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seresinhangmanjake · 7 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 5

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw x OC!reader, cursing, maybe. Self-doubt and insecurities.

Words: 3165

The One I Want Masterlist

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You are stirred by a knock at your door and you flip over in bed, eyes widening when you find the sun too high in the sky for the hour you were expected to wake.

“Shit! I’m gonna be late.”

Throwing back the covers you hop out of the warmth of your mattress into the chill of the room, and rush toward the bathroom. But there’s another knock. Glancing between the door and the bathroom, you debate which is more important, but you know Jake is on the other side. And you know he won’t stop. So, quickly as you can, you make your way to the opposite side of the room and yank the door open.

“Hey,” Jake says with a smile. “I was, uh…I–”

Your brow raises in question, but then you realize where the two-second glance of his eyes landed before they returned to your face. The speedy transition from comfy bed to cold air caused your nipples to bud and press through the thin fabric of your tight tank top.

Crossing your arms over your chest, and ignoring the blush you can’t will away, you say, “What’s up?”

“You weren’t up for work, so I thought you might be sick or something.”

“Nope, not sick,” you reply, stepping back to ease the door closed. You really need to get ready. You’re already calculating how long each of your morning routine tasks will take if you operate at max speed.

“Wait,” Jake says, his palm flattening against the door. It’s not forceful, you could slam it closed if you really wanted to, but the look on Jake’s face makes you pause for him. “When I pick you up, any chance you want to go to a bonfire? Just friends from work and a couple of locals. It’s not going to be anything crazy.”

“Yea, sure,” you rush out, not soaking in his words. You’re going to be late, he’s going to be late, and you need to get rid of him.

Jake smiles again as he says, “Really?” and you nod, not entirely sure what you’ve agreed to. But it works to move him along.

He wishes you a good day and begins to head for the front door when, suddenly, he pauses halfway on his path. You think he’s about to ask you something else that you won’t comprehend with the anxiety of being late to work consuming your thoughts, but he simply stands there with his back to you, blows out a breath, and rests one hand on his hip while the other runs through his hair.

“Calm the fuck down,” you hear him mutter before he collects himself and resumes his move toward the door and out of the apartment.

Thankful that he’s finally gone, you shower as fast as humanly possible, dress, and run into the kitchen to grab a water bottle to shove into your bag and the first piece of food you can find, a banana, to devour before you leave. At this rate, you’ll only be fifteen minutes late, but considering you’ve not once been tardy in the week and a half you’ve worked at the shop, you hope the owner will go easy on you. No one buys souvenirs at nine a.m. on a Friday, anyway. Hopefully.

But fifteen minutes late turns into twenty.

With the last bite of banana chewed, you toss the peel into the garbage can, but before the automatic lid fully closes, you catch a glimpse of an all too familiar item with all too familiar writing. Your foot presses on the pedal to shoot the lid back open. Reaching inside, you smack the banana peel out of the way and wrap your hand around the mug.

My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator. You know those words. You know this mug. You sold this mug, to a busty blonde with an attitude problem.

Though Jake’s been gone for more than ten minutes, your line of vision meets the front door to the apartment as if he had shut it behind him only moments ago.

—

Jake’s hand casually rests on top of the steering wheel, guiding his truck steadily with the heel of his palm, and you wonder if he’s handled everything in his life with such ease; if he’s faced a single hardship or if a beautiful fate shined down upon him from the very beginning.

From the moment you met Jake, you could tell he’d grown up well. He walks with the confidence of a man who has years of praise straightening his spine and holding his shoulders back. He speaks without the fear of being scolded, though being in the military, you’re positive he’s been barked at enough for a lifetime. He’s smart and clean and put together as if there was never the possibility for him to be anything else. And here you are, not remembering the last time you weren’t tense walking out your front door.

“I’m really glad you’re coming with me,” Jake says.

It jolts you out of your thoughts.

Jake hadn’t given you much of an explanation for how the night would unfold, and you were too embarrassed to ask, having not really listened to him that morning when he was asking you to join him. In fact, you’d forgotten your commitment to any activity after your shift until he showed up at the gift shop to pick you up with your sweater draped over the passenger seat claiming it gets a little chilly at night.

“It’s no problem,” you say in response, knowing that this event could absolutely be a problem.

You don’t know these people well. You don’t know this location. You don’t know how to handle being around Jake for an entire night after finding that mug in the trash and feeling the tiniest of pangs in your chest. You don’t want to think about the woman who bought it, what she meant, or possibly still means, to him.

Jake puts the truck in park and turns to you with a grin that brightens his eyes even in the dim light of the nearby street lamp. “Ready?”

“Sure,” you answer, a wobble in your voice.

He hops out of the car and hurries to your side, opening the door and reaching out to you. You stare at his hand for a beat before you decide to slip yours into his grasp so he can help you make the short leap from your seat to the sand.

“Thanks.”

He gives you a nod, but he doesn’t release your hand as he guides you to the glowing light in the distance and the many silhouettes surrounding it.

It feels odd when the small group smiles at you as you close the distance to the bonfire—an immediate acceptance from Jake’s friends and team. A few from the team you’d only met once, briefly, but you wouldn’t have assumed you made enough of an impression for them to be so welcoming now.

Javy rises from one of the unfoldable chairs and rushes to you with his arms spread wide. He greets you with a “Hello Sweetness” and what you’re sure would’ve been a lung-crushing squeeze if Jake hadn’t put his free hand against his friend's chest to stop him before he could get to you.

“Hands to yourself,” Jake warns.

Javy’s arms slap down to his sides with the same dramaticism of his lips falling into a pout. He glances down. “You don’t keep your hands to yourself,” he whines, but there’s a subtle tease to it, a little quirk of his mouth that has your eyes going wide and your hand jerking free from Jake’s.

His eyes dart to the loss of weight between his fingers, then over to you, and you can detect the disappointment on his face despite not looking his way to confirm it. He turns back to Javy, who becomes the line leader toward the rest of the group.

“She’s here!” Javy announces to your embarrassment, then in a dull tone says, “Jake’s here, too, but that’s less important.”

One by one, each of Jake’s friends greet you with nods and more smiles and questions of “How are you?” and “How was your day?” and you do your best to answer. You meet four others. The Bob you’ve heard plenty about who instantly gives up his seat for you; Rooster’s girlfriend, Millie—a petite red-head with a southern twang to her voice and a laugh that echoes across the waves of the ocean; and Mav and Penny, a couple that seems to operate as the parental figures of their younger friends.

For the most part, you keep quiet as the night goes on, and from that decision, learn plenty. After two hours of experiencing them all in one place, your previous belief that these people solely operate as friends and teammates is quickly tossed away. They are family, held together by far more powerful sources than blood. Their lives are interwoven. They’re protectors of one another on land as much as they are at sea and in the sky. But it’s the teasing and story-telling, genuine pride, and support of each other that stings your nose and blurs the edges of your vision from springing tears.

You’ve never seen people exist like this. People damage, people rip apart, and then people leave. No one sticks around to aid in healing others’ wounds—you thought. But you could pick any one of those in front of you now—electively sitting around a pit of fire with bottles of beer in their hands as they enjoy one another's company—and know that they have healed someone to their left or right. In their living, breathing unit, each person is vital for continuing on, and for whatever reason, for the time being, you’ve been invited into them.

Jake, in the midst of retelling a crowd-pleasing story, doesn’t sense you slip away to nestle in the sand. His voice fades to the waves that slide over the damp and heavy grains to touch your toes, retreat, and reliably reach for you again. One of few things that comes back, you think. The waves, and Jake you suppose. Both of which you’re finding are masters of the rebound. There is no pushing away either without preparing yourself for their return. The waves aren’t going anywhere, and with how your fingertips still tingle from Jake’s hand in yours, you’re starting to believe neither is he.

You can’t say how much time has passed when you’re joined by another.

“He noticed, ya know,” you hear just as the little redhead plops down beside you. “That you’re not next to him.”

With knees bent, you wrap your arms around your thighs and hum, daring yourself not to glance over your shoulder. You can’t figure out what you want. For his eyes to search in the hope of meeting yours, or not. Instead, you focus on the newcomer.

Millie is tiny, that’s for sure. She makes you feel like a city-destroying giant in this proximity, but unlike with most other women, your insecurity from being around her stops at the height difference. While there are probably a hundred differences between you, many of which can be spotted with a single look, you find comfort in one confirmed similarity: her shape.

Her chest is heavy. She’s full in the hips and thick in the thighs, and when she’s perched on Rooster’s lap, a couple of rolls form where her tummy is. Rolls that she doesn’t care are obvious through her snug shirt. Rolls that don’t stop Rooster from running his hands over her body, fingers occasionally drifting to dangerous areas when he thinks no one else is watching. Most people aren’t watching. You are.

Whenever a couple like them is shoved in your face, you picture loads of things that you probably shouldn’t be picturing considering this couple in particular could be in your life for a while. But you can’t help it. You picture them together, wrapped around one another, Rooster holding Millie close, sucking on her full breasts, kissing her stretch-marked skin, burying his head between thighs he would gladly permit to suffocate him. There are smiles and giggles and genuine moans of pleasure. You picture love meeting sex.

To your defense, it isn’t about Rooster or Millie. When you picture these scenarios, the people themselves lose their meaning to you, if they ever had meaning at all. They become Perfect Man and Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who falls on his knees for Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who worships Imperfect Woman despite her imperfections. Every duo like Rooster and Millie you’ve come across in your stopping points around the country worms their way into your daydreams. You’ve never quite had the Perfect/Imperfect couple so close, though, and as much as you try to ignore it, it plants a seed of hope.

“He didn’t want to bother you if you wanted a second to be alone,” Millie says to your shock, because since when doesn’t Jake Seresin squeeze himself into your space uninvited? That’s shown to be one of his top ten skills.

“Were you sent over?”

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘P’. “I just happen to enjoy your company. You, me, and Penny gotta stick together. We’re the only gals in this crew who don’t get to fly without a chaperone.” Her head quirks to the side. “Well, there’s Payback’s girl as well. They’re overseas for a few more months—Fanboy, too.”

Jake mentioned them. Another set of best friends whose seats at this family table could not be occupied by outsiders.

Millie leans back on her palms, tucking her toes into the sand. “I know they can be overwhelmin’,” she says. “They’re loud—well, with the exception of Bobby—and they’re all annoyingly attractive, right?”

Especially annoying is one particular pilot.

“I never thought in a million years a guy like Bradley would develop a thing for me.”

“How’d you meet him?” you ask Millie, who instantly grins at the memory.

“I've got an uncle in the Navy,” she says, and if you closed your eyes, her southern accent would take you right to Alabama. You didn’t do well in Alabama. But Millie is far from a representation of the population you’d found yourself within. “Came to visit for the summer, met Bradley, and that was that.”

“You never went back home?”

She lets out a laugh that almost has her rolling onto her side. “Oh no, Honey, I did,” she finally gets out. “But I gave that dope my phone number. He kept callin’ and textin’. Wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to come back.”

Giving her an amused look at the image of that burly pilot a few yards away being so desperate, Millie giggles and pats your knee.

“I know, what a creep. But he won me over before I left, so I was lenient,” she says. “We spent more time together, and when he asked me to be his girl and move in with him, I said yes. Actually, I got here not long before you arrived.”

You take a moment to think over what she’s shared over the course of the night. Millie is young, at least a decade separating her and her boyfriend, and, from what you understand after her earlier telling of her story for you, she had a whole life on the other side of the country. A mother, a grandmother, a brother, a father who is less than thrilled his baby girl lives with a man much older than herself. A job lined up at her family’s small business. A good country boy everyone expected her to start dating soon. Yet, it appears with no reservations, she picked up, left her family, her business, and that country boy to settle in with Rooster.

You can’t help but question what it would take for you to pick a place and stay in it. Neither can you remember the last town you lived in for more than four months.

“Do you like it here?” you ask.

“Oh, it's lovely. Different, absolutely. But it’s not about here,” she shakes her head. “It’s about him. I’ll go where he goes.” Turning her head, she looks back to the group and smiles. A blush spreads across her cheeks from whatever charming, flirty gesture you guarantee Rooster just directed her way. “Datin’ a pilot,” she continues, her gaze back on the ocean, “is certainly…somethin’. It’s got its challenges, for sure, but Bradley is worth it.”

You nod because, on a level, you understand. Rooster is as kind as he is good-looking, and it takes about three breaths in their presence to see that he’s head over heels in love with his girlfriend. He’s gentle with her in a way you’ve never known—sweet—and when he looks at her, you see in his eyes that he is looking at his future. His wife. The mother of his children. Whether she knows of his plans or not, it makes sense that she stays by his side. No one with their head on straight would let that go if they could get away with it.

“Jake’s a good guy, ya know,” Millie suddenly states, her honey-toned eyes meeting the plane of your profile. “He’d be worth it, too.”

Eyes widening, your head snaps to her so fast you feel a muscle tweak in your neck.

She smiles softly, almost motherly though she’s younger than you, then she stands and dusts the sand off the back of her cutoffs. “Just somethin’ to think about, Honey,” she says. “I’ll let him know you’re alright.”

With Millie gone, you take extra minutes to collect yourself; take your deep breaths and try to wrap your head around her words. You’re not so sure you can. They’re as hard to push aside as the words and names directed at you in the past—the reasons you abandoned the places you’ve been to end up here. But for the first time, you don’t taste that sourness on your tongue or feel the swell and ache of nausea in your gut. There’s a wiggliness to your nerves from anxiety, but they accompany an intense pounding of your heart you’ve not experienced in so long you’d almost forgotten what it’s like.

Standing, you brush away the sand that had snuck its way into the folds of your clothes and you turn. At some point, Jake switched seats with Bradley for the one that faces the ocean, faces you, and your stare instantly meets his.

His knee is bouncing. He gives you a smile laced with concern, but it has enough power behind it to encourage you closer. So you step forward, one foot before the other until you see the movement of a bobbing head in your peripherals. Breaking your connected stare, your eyes flick to the right of Jake’s head and onto a figure in the distance.

And much like that mug from this morning, you think you know this figure.

---

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captainamericasmotercycle · 9 months

Note

Jake would also be a great fit for the prompt I just sent you, I copy-pasted the prompt from my notes app prompts list and forgot to change the name.

part of my 500 follower celebration!!!

Never Letting Go

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, angst, fluff, p in v sex, penetration sex, mentions of money, cowgirl/missionary, jake being in LOVE, me knowing nothing about the military

wc: 1.7k

a/n: ok i had so much fun writing this one so i hope you guys like it!!

prompt: you break up with Jake to try and make sure he doesn’t turn down the dagger squad’s permanent stationing in order to stay with you, and Jake is not having any of that and fucks you so well he shows you just how much he loves you and isn’t letting you go?

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that

You and Jake have been together for almost 2 years. You met in your hometown of Dallas, Texas; you worked in an office in Dallas’s CBD and Jake was stationed just outside of Dallas.

The two of you had run into each other at the grocery store, Jake was fairly new to the area, having grown up in Austin, and he looked a little lost, so feeling pity on him, you decided to help him out. After the long - but not grueling - shopping trip, Jake offered to take you out and of course you accepted.

Ever since then you’ve been attached at the hip. Until now.

Only months ago, Jake was called back to Top Gun for a dangerous, top secret mission. And since his team’s performance during the mission was so high, the squad was offered a permanent spot as a special operations team at Top Gun Academy.

When he told you the news you couldn’t help but be ecstatic for him because you know he’s worked so incredibly hard for this.

You dwelled on the pros and cons of moving to California when you realized that you were only holding Jake back, there was no way that he would go without you but you couldn’t just pick up your entire life and move out to San Diego. I mean you have a job and a life here! Not to mention how expensive Cali is! You just didn’t want him to stay because of you.

There was no way in Hell that you would get between him and his job, so you made the toughest decision, probably of your entire life. You have to break up with him.

You made sure everything was ready by the time he got back to your shared apartment. Dinner was made, the space was cleaned, the table was set, and your head was a mess.

He greeted you with the most loving smile as he walked in the door, which only made a pit form in your stomach. How are you supposed to end things with the person you love most in the world?

Halfway through dinner you decided to start, “Jake, about your job,”

“Yeah, isn’t it amazing, baby?”

“It is so amazing and I am so happy for you because you deserve this more than anyone,” you trailed off and he picked up on your tone.

“But you don’t think I should take the offer?”

“No! No, that’s not it. I think you should take the offer. But I also think we should break up,” you whispered the last part into an almost silent room.

Jake dropped his fork immediately and froze, “Excuse me?”

“I think we should break up. I’m holding you back Jake, I don’t want to get in between you and what you love most,”

“Baby, you are what I love most,”

“Jake, please just listen. I love you so much and you know I only want the absolute best for you. And I think this is the best option for you, for us.”

Jake stood abruptly and paced around the small living room. He didn’t say a word.

“Please say something,” you stood closely behind him.

“We’re not breaking up,”

“You have to take this job, it’s everything you’ve been working up to and I am not going to be the one to hold you back and—“ he cut you off sharply with a kiss and mumbled into your mouth.

“I would never leave you,” he nipped at your jawline and the higher parts of your neck.

This could not be happening right now. This was not how this night was supposed to go, but you couldn’t stop a slight moan escaping from your lips. If you were going to leave him, you felt like you deserved one more time with him.

You pushed him away to hold his face. You looked into his eyes, then found his lips, and kissed them roughly, “Please Jake, I need you, one last time,”

That’s all he needed to hear and he had you in his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom. He tossed you on the bed, practically ripping his shirt off, he hovered above you, taking your shirt and bra off next.

He sucked on your chest, leaving love bites on the very top of your breasts. “I’m going to fuck you stupid until you get this idea of you holding me back out of your head.”

He moved down to your shorts, pulling them off as quickly as possible, taking your underwear with them.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, making his was up to your core.

He removed his mouth and let two of his fingers press inside of you. He kissed up your stomach as he pumped his fingers deep inside of you and relished in the way you were almost incoherently moaning.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he held down your hips as he began to lightly suck on your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a pornographic moan.

You didn’t mean to feel the need to release so quickly but you couldn’t help it. You wanted every part of him and you didn’t want to leave him.

He quickened his pace causing you to scream out with pleasure. He pulled his fingers from you and sucked your juices off his hand.

He unbuckled his belt and yanked down his pants, pulling out his hard length. He teased your entrance with his cock, slapping the surface lightly. You were almost a whimpering mess underneath him.

He finally pushed into, both of you letting out a long noise of satisfaction. Jake murmured curses of pleasure under his breath and his thrusted into you.

He had you on your back, your legs on either side of him. He pulled your legs to wrap around his waist and thrusted into you harder.

Jake was now leaning completely over you, his hand on either sides of your breasts, him kissing down your neck, and his stupidly hot dog tags dangling over you as you practically screamed out for him.

He pulled back from your neck and started kissing down your chest again, loving the way your boobs moved as he fucked you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his back as he starts thrusting at a faster pace.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me,” God he may as well just get you pregnant at this point.

You started to feel a build in your stomach, again. You could tell he was close too because his thrusts started to falter.

He began to pull out to cum, when you tugged him closer to you, keeping him inside. He looked at you with a hunger as you both reached your climax, crying out profanities.

He hung his head low until flipping you over until you were sitting on top of him. He pushed himself up the bed, propping himself up, you still on top.

Holding down your hips, a firm grip on them, you began to bounce up and down on his cock. He finally speaks for the first time, rebounding from the babbling mess you had made of him earlier.

“Baby, I’m not leaving you here,”

You wrapped you arms around his neck for a steadier ride. “Jake-“

“I don’t care, I will turn it down,”

“Absolutely not,” you began to bob faster as you got more flustered, “I want you to go, Jake,”

“I want you to go with me, I thought that was a given,”

“But my job, we can’t afford for only one of us to work,”

He moved his hands up and down your torso, grabbing and squeezing at your tits.

“Yes we can, I have a trust fund, I’ll make sure you never work another day in you entire life. I’ll make you my wife so you can live on base. Or we don’t have to live on base, I’ll buy us a mansion and whatever you want in it.”

There was nothing hotter than seeing the man you love offer to take care of you for the rest of your lives. You want to be with him so bad.

You want every part of him. His highs, his lows, his good days, his awful days, you want it all and everything in between.

Hearing him coax you down from the ledge only made you want him more. Pushing you over the edge of another orgasm. He took you lips with his as you finished for the third time, him for the second.

You pulled away off of him and curled up by his side, resting your head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around your body and kissed your forehead gently, “I promise I’ll take care of you, baby. Don’t worry about any of this,”

“I want to go with you, Jake, if you’ll have me,”

“I want you more than anything on this entire planet, and don’t you doubt it for a second that I would never leave you,”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his jawline, whispering close to him, “I love you, Jake.”

He looked down at you with gentlest expression you’ve ever seen and kissed you again, “I love you and I’m never letting you go.”

It was time to start a new chapter with the love of your life, (and Jake was right, he did fuck you stupid until you dropped the idea of you burdening him and holding him back).

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin #hangman top gun #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #hangman smut #jake hangman x reader

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apomaro-mellow · 2 months

Note

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” for Stobin please 🥺

Never let it be said that Robin had no flair for the dramatics. Between the two of them, people pegged Steve for the goofy one with odd ideas, but she more often than not, followed him along with it. She didn't just do theatre for the costumes, after all.

Acting was just more fun when they weren't infiltrating a psych facility and trying to interview a convicted murderer. Steve's plan was much more entertaining. It was also idiotic but most fun things were.

"Are you in or are you out?", Steve asked.

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

And so Operation: Make Eddie Jealous by Pretending to Date took off.

They'd made rules, the main one being no kisses on the mouth. They were close, but not that close. Robin thought this was a pretty juvenile way to figure out if Eddie liked Steve. But they could use juvenile right now. And it was honestly hilarious watching the guy seethe as Robin sat in Steve's lap and played with his hair.

They giggled to themselves, which only made Eddie look worse. Robin wanted to have mercy. But she also wanted to know how far it would have to go before Eddie would make a move. Then, halfway through a movie night, Robin realized he wouldn't make a move. Not on a guy who was clearly in a happy relationship.

"Steve!", she exclaimed, suddenly hopping off the couch. "We've gotta end this farce!"

"Wha?", Steve sat there as all the other eyes in the room turned to Robin.

"This sham of a relationship can't go on. I know you love another!"

Steve was definitely trying to not look at Eddie, but his eyes betrayed him about three times. Eddie was also unable to keep his eyes off of Steve.

"Eddie", Robin said. "Treat him better than I ever could." And then she dropped back onto the couch like nothing happened. "Okay, you two go make out in the kitchen or whatever."

Steve and Eddie were frozen. Nancy and Jonathan were stiff as a board too. Argyle was as relaxed as ever when government agents weren't on the hunt. Eddie cleared his throat.

"Kitchen?"

Steve stood up and Eddie followed. Everyone else could hear a low conversation under the sounds from the movie. And then nothing at all. And then some odd noises, and then the sound of two men going upstairs. Jonathan turned the TV up.

Send me a pairing and a number for a drabble

#apo writes #stranger things #platonic stobin #steddie

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skunkox · 2 months

Text

Country Lovin Darlin and Rambles.

Is this gonna be self indulging? Very much so. I'm starting to realize no one can stop me, but hear me out real quick. Forgive me if you do decide to read all the way through. It's a lot. 🥲

Before moving to Dahlia, Darlin' used to spend half their summers with their grandparents in Texas. Sorta old money/ retired folk. Big land, but not too much on it. Plenty of room for the shiftsr grandchildgren to play. Passively still making money via whool sales. Yeah, there's other animals, but it's not a giant operation. They do have other empowereds working as ranch hands for them, though.

Anyways, a good moth or so out of each summer as a child, Darlin would help around the ranch, learn to cook and bake, and even participate in town events. (I'm telling you the fucker can cook. Just not for one person.)

Lazy Sunday mornings were spent in front of the TV with their grandfather watching old westerns or things like "The Andy Grifith Show," "Little House on the Prarie," and "Tales of Wells Fargo".

Not even halfway into they stay, they'll have developed a country accent. They still struggled to get be friends with most of the kids their age. Was it because they picked up a garden snake like it was just a piece of rope? Was it because they alegedly chased a kid girl with it that had been giving them hell? Who knows.

I wholeheartedly believe that Darlin was a pageant kid at some point in their life. Regardless of how ruff and tough they are, they were a cute kid. Don't pay the bandaid brand character bandaid any mind.

This is where I say this is really just my version of Darlin and a little bit of Sweetheart. It's Redunk Time.

Specifically for my version of Darlin (fem), "Southern Bell" like fair competitions are what her grandmother would enter the kids in. The one day out of the year she's happy to put on a frilly dress and bows. Not a whole lot of confidence for themselves on stage for the most part, though.

Diving more into the idea that Darlin and Sweetheart used to be friends before the move idea. Sweetheart has gone with them once or twice. Especially when the older cousins were visiting for less time, if at all. The old wolves like a full house, so they had no problem hosting another empowered child.

Sweetheart loved taking pictures and video of their adventures. Still currently holding footage to a misshap of sorts that they swore to never tell anyone about. They also have footage of competitions from the fairs. Including the pageants. Do they plan on telling the pack? Yes. (That's a post for another day)

The duo thought it was weird that the they would be leaving at separate times. They noticed the soured moods of the grandparents but the older wolves couldn't bring themselves to say anything on it in the days leading to their departures. Sweetheart took the flight home alone. Darlin was under the impression that the family was taking a short trip to California before summer ended.

Much to their distraught, their parents had either been moved and or found new jobs in Dahlia. The move was in the works for nearly half a year and they had no idea. Their older siblings knew, but they did everything their parents told them. They got no warning that they wouldn't see their friends anymore. That they wouldn't be attending school that fall with the same kids. That they wouldn't even get to say goodbye to their old house. No proper goodbye to Sweetheart.

Summer visits to Texas were just about haulted. Their parents wanted Darlin to better acquaint themselves with the other pack children. This was a struggle for years.

Sweetheart moving to work for the department and finding themselves with Milo was one thing. But the first time they happened to see each other in a pack meeting was rough. They knew almost instantly who each other were.

Sweetheart had seen a photo in Milo's living room. It was framed next to a lamp. The picture was of Christian and Amanda who awkwardly sat side by side. Hands just nearly touching. On one end of a log. David sat facing forward while Asher sat crooked with an arm thrown over David's shoulder. Both had been laughing. Milo and Darlin had been on the ground and back to back. Darlin had thrown up a rock sign with a small smile, attempting to no ruin the picture with their resting pitch face. Milo sat leaning on one knee, trying his best to look cool and composed.

To make a long story short. Both played dumb as to knowing each other for one reason or another. It wasn't till the Quinn situation, and Darlin coming back to the pack did the two start to speak. It took it all being over for them to finally become close again.

Back to the country thing

Hearing Sam speak for the first time really took them back especially at the end of their conversation with "Didn't your mama teach you not to talk to strange men in the dark, all alone?"

It felt familiar. It disarmed them and put then at ease. Sam's voice is something Darlin couldn't and still can't get enough of. They slip into an accent every once in a while. To them it feels right. Some slips happen in front of the pack and they've been teased for it. Sweetheart knows thr truth and is waiting eagerly to spill the beans on their country loving friend.

So... didn't mean for this to be as long as it is. Really putting a lot into Darlin's character cause it feels right. I like old TV. I mean sorta staticky box tv vibes. My grandfather was into a lot of it. My mom started me on LHOTP and I recently discovered a live channel for it and only it.

I really do apologize for how messy this all looks. It was an accident. Anyways, some bits and pieces of this will eventually be drawn out. Got weeks worth of stuff to do for this Fandom alone 😭

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted darlin #redacted tank #redacted sam #sam collins #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redunk universe

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jadedxhearts · 1 month

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

Reader and Law find themselves being captured by marines and thrown into a cell together. They decide to keep themselves busy while they wait for the crew to save them.

originally posted on June 20, 2023

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

It had been so sudden that there was no avoiding it; you and Law had been on a little date on the island you were currently docked at, going on a walk together as the sun set beneath the ocean line. You two had left the crew not even an hour prior, explaining to come looking for the two of you if neither of you showed up within two hours.

It was then that you were both caught off guard by some marines. You were being a tease, snuggling against your boyfriend as you both walked through a street in the village. You had your eyes closed, talking some nonsense about how much you loved him, while Law was looking up at the stars that were slowly appearing, a smile on his face, not paying any mind to your surroundings.

You were torn away from each other’s arms, Law quickly placed into seastone cuffs and you in regular ones before either of you could react. Then, you were both dragged to the marine’s island base and thrown into a cell.

To your surprise, they’d put you in the same cell, so you started snickering to yourself about how dumb they were to do so. But, they’d taken Kikoku and your weapons away, leaving you both at a disadvantage.

The cell you were placed in together was walled off from the other one, in a locked room with one dim light near the metal door. No windows either, meaning escape would be difficult.

“If we can just wait for an hour, the crew should be able to find us relatively easily,” Law calmly said to you, watching as you attempted to reach into your hair for a pin.

“Let me at least get us out of these cuffs… especially you,” you turned to look at the raven haired man, realizing his hat was gone now. You guessed it had fallen when you were being captured. “I don’t want you feeling weak or exhausted when we may have to fight soon.”

Law simply hummed in agreement, sinking into the floor with his back against the wall. You sat in the middle of the cell, sitting with your legs crossed. After fiddling with your hair for another moment, you found a pin and successfully freed yourself.

You quickly crawled to him, halfway nestling yourself into his lap as you took his hands, using your lock-picking skills to free Law. It took a couple tries, considering that these cuffs were different from yours, but you soon freed him too.

“So we wait now?” You wondered, gazing around the cell as Law’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest.

“Mhm. It shouldn’t be too long. An hour or so, like I said.”

You turned to ruffle Law’s black messy hair, placing a kiss on his nose. “Well… if we have an hour…”

“What? Why are you looking at me like you’re up to some shit?” Law questioned you, an eyebrow raised.

You giggled in return, “remember what I was saying before we were taken? What I wanted when we got back to the submarine…”

Law rolled his eyes, recalling the conversation. “Yeah… you said, how about we go into the operation room and mess around.”

“I said more than that,” you teased. “If I remember right, I think I said that I wanted to ride you, hm?”

Law grumbled in agreement, confirming you were remembering correctly. “And you want to… do that in here?”

“They won’t know if we’re quiet,” you suggest, looking at him with lust evident in your eyes.

Law looks off to the side, clearly pondering it. After a moment of consideration, his gray eyes meet yours again. “Fine. But if they come in here…”

“They won’t,” you reassure Law, hopping off his lap to pull your panties down from underneath your skirt, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans. You slide your hands under Law’s shirt, running your fingers over his toned chest. He begins kissing your neck, and soon your arms are wrapped around each other, while you slowly grind your aching cunt on his thigh.

“Mmm, I think I’m ready,” you say, freezing the movement of your hips. “Can I unzip you?”

Law nods, watching as you remove your hands from his neck and move them to his jeans. You unbutton and unzip them, pushing all the layers of fabric aside before freeing him, his hardened length now presented before you.

You lick your lips, raising yourself above him and let Law’s hands find your hips, as he slowly guides you down onto his rock-hard cock, filling you up so perfectly. A content whine leaves your lips.

The plush skin of your thighs return to his, now seated in his lap once again, only this time, you’re stuffed full with him. You give yourself time to adjust, feeling your wet cunt throb around him as he stretches your velvety hole.

A moment goes by, and you begin raising your hips again before pushing them back down. You repeat this, speeding up with some caution, slightly worried somebody’s going to walk in.

And yet, you’re turned on more by that. Some poor marine walking in and finding you in Law’s lap, with him completely sheathed inside you. You don’t necessarily want that to happen… but the idea is… interesting.

So you begin to moan, increasing the speed of which you ride his cock more. Law lets out a “tch”, playfully smacking your ass before hissing, “you don’t want them to find us, do you, y/n-ya? See what a little slut you are?”

You whine louder, squeezing his cock as the words fall from his lips. Law’s hands are firm on your waist as he continues guiding you up and down, and soon enough, he’s slamming you onto his cock.

Your moans are high-pitched and sweet, hands gripping onto Law’s shirt as you keep riding him, knowing you’re about to orgasm. Law’s making pleased noises too, some pants falling out in between. The way his head is thrown back with his mouth hung open lets you know he’s also close to cumming.

You rock your hips again and again, feeling Law’s cock reach even deeper inside you as he starts rutting up to meet your thrusts. His name falls in sweet babbles from your mouth, unsuccessful attempts at telling him that you’re close, following his name.

“Law, I’m- ahh, I’m gonna- Law!” You cry out, broken moans leaving your lips as you feel yourself creaming on him, your pussy spilling with orgasm.

Law moans, feeling your cunt clenching onto him, trying to milk him of all his seed. “Shit, y/n… you- fuck,” he stutters out, groaning as he lets go and cums inside you. His grip on your flesh is tighter as he holds you down against his cock, not letting you squirm away as he spills into you.

When he lets go, your hips are rocking again, trying to prolong the sensations you’re feeling. You slow the movements of your hips, before collapsing into Law. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to himself as the two of you regain your composure.

Voices flood the hallway, ones that sound annoyed or panicked. You look at the door before back to Law, and you both realize at the same time;

“The crew’s here,” he says, pulling you off of his cock, quickly tucking himself back into his pants.

You readjust your skirt, praying that his cum doesn’t slide down your legs as you both hear the door to the jail room burst open.

Bepo’s the one that broke down the door, easily finding you both as there’s only two cells.

“Captain! Y/n! We came as soon as we realized you hadn’t come back,” he shouts, using his strength as a bear to pull apart the cell bars, giving you and Law space to escape.

As the three of you run out of the base, Shachi and Penguin return your weapons to you and Law. The escape is easy, as the crew had taken care of pretty much all the marines before finding you two. As you all run back to the submarine, you notice Law’s hat laying in the dirt and decide to snatch it as you run by. You dip down, bending over to grab it with your right hand. You hear Law gasp behind you, briefly wondering why as you keep running.

—

Within no time, you’re all back on the ship and leaving the island. You walk down the stairs to the lower levels of the Polar Tang, Law following behind you. And suddenly, you realize why Law gasped at you at the same time that Penguin makes a strange comment.

“Hey captain? What’s hanging out of y-your pocket? Are th…those- y/n’s pan-“

“Shut your mouth, Penguin,” Law snaps, silencing your poor crewmate.

#law x reader #law x reader smut

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scarlett-vixen · 2 years

Note

ooooh congrats on 300!! could I request O with Mammon for your event? fluff would be cute! thank you!!

Thank you!! All these mammon requests make my heart happy, he deserves better ⚠️ full disclosure: I’ve never personally had my wisdom teeth removed but have witnessed several friends have it done so I’m basing my knowledge from that don’t sue me

Prompt: O- Operation

Pairing: Mammon x Gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

“NUH-UH! NO WAY!”

“Mammon, please,” Lucifer groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose “you don’t have a say in the matter, this is not your decision!”

“Don’t care! Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ em do this!! NOT TO MY HUMAN!!” The second born was in full defense mode, guarding you with his body while staring down the oldest who sat at the end of the table. He was so loyal to you, even when he didn’t know what he was protecting you from.

“Mams?” You chuckled “do you even know what they’re going to do to me?” Knowing full and well he did not know the exact operation you would undergo.

“N-no….but I don’t care! Satan said they might have to put you to sleep to do it! And NO ONE is puttin’ you to sleep!” Mammon turned halfway to face you, still keeping an eye on Lucifer. What started as a simple discussion about you needing a surgical procedure had snowballed into the argument currently playing out.

It all started a week ago, you were having some pain in the back of your mouth, it started off mild but soon became unbearable. You kept the pain to yourself as best you could, not wanting to alarm the brothers, but lost control of the situation when you were out eating at Ristorante Six with the brothers plus everyone from Purgatory Hall.

You were careful to take small bites, not wanting to inflict pain on yourself during this group meal, but got caught up in a story Simeon had been telling the table.

“OW! SHIT!!” The pain shot through your jaw, you grabbed your cheek with both hands as if that would help somehow.

“Language!” Asmodeus scolded, covering Luke’s ears

“Oi! What happened?!”

“Were you attacked by someone?”

Mammon and Lucifer were both on their feet immediately, ready to interrogate your attacker. You started to answer but the pain in your mouth was too strong, you folded in on yourself causing even more panic from the table.

Eventually the pain subsided enough for you explain what happened, you scheduled an appointment to be seen the next day, Solomon had accompanied you since the appointment was in the human world and he had the most knowledge on how to help you if something went wrong.

As you suspected you needed your wisdom teeth removed, you returned home to inform the others that you would be undergoing an oral surgical procedure and would probably be on bed rest for a few days after to recover.

Needless to say this invoked some very heartfelt but confused questions.

“THEY JUST STEAL YOUR TEETH LIKE THAT?!”

“Wait, so do humans store their wisdom inside their mouths? Are you going to be dumb after this?”

“You have to wait how long until you can eat normal food again??”

“Darling, I love you but if you drool blood on me I may throw up…and that’s not very glamorous.”

But nothing could have prepared you for the battle Mammon put up. He was already upset that some doctor was going to be removing things from you, then he found out you would be traveling to the human world for the surgery.

He argued and fought with Lucifer for the next hour, after realizing that he wasn’t giving up anytime soon you finally made an offer.

“Why doesn’t Mammon just go with me? I need someone to watch over me while I’m there and to help me get back here. He already watches out for me on a daily so what’s the difference?”

Lucifer gave in quickly, just wanting to be done with the conversation. Mammon still wasn’t happy about the surgery but felt better being the one to look after you.

The day of the operation arrived and the two of you traveled up to the human world. You sat in the waiting room in anticipation of being called back to begin prepping.

“Still don’t see why they gotta take stuff from ya…perfect the way ya are…”

“What?” You questioned.

“What?!” The second born jumped, unaware he had said that out loud.

“Mams I promise, I’ll be fine! Humans have this done all the time, plus if I don’t do this I’ll still be in pain and you don’t want that right? It’s a one day thing, I’ll be in and out.” You placed a hand on his thigh trying to comfort him.

“Yeah, yeah I know! Satan let me read the books he had…” He shifted in his seat and crossed his arms “it’s just… what if ya don’t wake up? What if they mess up and use too much anesthesia or not enough or they take the wrong teeth or they sneeze and cut the wrong thing or—“

“MAMS!” You grabbed his face with both hands. “You’re spiraling. I promise I will be okay! I brought you here to make me feel better, not to panic and start writing my obituary.”

The second born blushed realizing he was probably just adding on to your stress, he put his arm around you pulling you close hoping to soothe both your nerves.

Eventually you were called back, Mammon reluctantly let you go and sat by himself waiting for you to return. After what seemed like an eternity the two of you were reunited, luckily you had warned him about the after affects the pain medication and anesthesia had on humans otherwise he would have sworn they replaced you with someone else.

The journey home had been long and extremely entertaining for both of you, Mammon had to remind you who he was about four times but you were always very polite when asking, you babbled on about things that made no sense at all, you kept asking him if he was old because of his white hair, he truly felt like a babysitter at this point.

Once home he helped you to your room, which you somehow remembered perfectly but asked about ‘the grumpy old guy who yelled at you for being late and looked like he needed to get laid’. Mammon had pushed you into your room before his brothers could start interrogating this new and very honest version of you or before Lucifer could strangle you.

“Geez, ya sure know how to get yerself in trouble huh? Where’d ya learn that from!?” The second born huffed as he helped take off your shoes.

“I learned it from this really cute guy I know,” you let out an unusually high pitched laugh “he gets in trouble a lot!”

“Oh yeah?” Mammon threw your shoe to the side and snapped his head up to look at you, the small amount of anger he felt hearing you say ‘cute guy’ vanished when he looked up at you.

Even in your delirious and drunk state you were still breath taking to him, your cheeks were a bright red, you held your hands together between your thighs, you had the goofiest grin on your face. He’d never seen you this smitten before and wanted to photograph the moment but was frozen in his spot when you kept talking.

“Mhmmmm, he’s super taaaall, has reeeeeally pretty eyes, he’s super funny and smart,” Mammon was convinced you were referring to one of his brothers until you unleashed the most crucial detail. “and he has the prettiest and softest white hair too!”

Mammon’s heart swelled in his chest, how dare you say all these cute things to him while totally unaware of what’s going on! He thought he was going to explode, he wanted to kiss you right then and there, nobody had ever said such sweet things about him. He wanted to see how much more you would say about him but knew it wasn’t fair in your current state.

“Psh, he doesn’t sound so hot to me, just a normal guy.” Mammon stood up finally, he turned to collect your discarded shoe.

“Nope, not even close! He’s a Demon Lord!” The second born glanced over his shoulder to see you gently kicking your feet as your legs hung off the bed, he was baffled by how easily humans were affected by pain killers.

“Yeah, well ya better keep yer mouth shut about that last part, unless ya want Lucifer to tie ya up!” He bent down to pick up your shoe.

“I’d rather tie up his younger brother.”

Mammon froze again, his face flushed and his heart went wild, you really had no filter did you? This operation had been both a blessing and a curse for him, he needed you to recover fast so he could return the favor.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon x gn!reader #obey me mammon fluff #obey me mammon x reader #kats 200+ event #omswd mammon #om! mammon

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heliarosewrites · 1 year

Text

Chapter 13 - Dawn

A knock on the door woke you from your light sleep. The sun peaked through the grey curtains. Your eyes were heavy from sleep and as you moved you noticed how sore your body was. It took a second for you to realize where you were. The cold white, greys, and blues greeted you.

Once your vision had cleared and you felt energized enough to get out of bed you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You walked over to the door. Your feet stung from the impact of the cold floor. You opened the door, but there was no one there. Maybe you had just imagined it.

As you turned around you noticed that someone had been in the room. A stack of books sat atop the dresser and a plate with a piece of bread and some fruit was places beside them. You quickly wrapped the robe that hung beside the bed, around you. You ate the food. It tasted bland, but you had to eat if you were to function. You grabbed the small pouch with soap and other toiletries before you walked to the showers.

The corridors were silent. You wondered where everyone else, but didn´t think much of it. They had their own matters to attend to. The way you had gotten it was that they attended missions to uphold peace.

You were quick to shower. In your dresser you had found a pair of comfortable trousers of cotton and another shirt with a ‘Stark’ logo on it. You made your bed when you got back. You took the platter back to the kitchens. Still, you met no one. They were probably out.

You studied the books. They all seemed to address some form of historical events. “Good to see you’re awake, lady y/n” a voice rang throughout the room. It made you drop the book in your hand. You looked around the room but were unable to locate the source of the sound. “Who are you?” you asked. “I didn’t mean to startle you miss. I am JARVIS Mr. Stark’s personal operative system” the voice said. “Oh” you said as you remembered that Tony had mentioned JARVIS.

“If you need anything. Just let me know” the voice said. “How?” you asked. “Just address me by my name, and I will answer” he said. Was this some sort of attempt of making you less lonely? “That’s nice” you said.

You grabbed the book and sat back down on the bed. Fortunately, you knew how to read the Midgardian language. It was simple, unlike so many others that used similar symbols and other patterns.

You were halfway through the book, and it was quite intriguing. It was about the war called the second world war, and it was mostly about this guy called Captain America and his companions. They were just about to go on a train when your reading was broken off by someone knocking on the door.

You put down the book and jumped off the bed.

You opened the door and a tall figure greeted you.

Steve.

“Oh, hi” you said.

“Morning” he said.

“It’s a little late for morning, don’t you think?” you said and opened the door so he could enter. He walked inside. “I was wondering if you wanted to get out of this place for a short while?” he asked. You raised your brows. “I would love to, it’s just that I don’t think that would be very wise. Tony-“you said but broke yourself off. “I can’t make a mistake like that” you said. “I can’t risk being sent back to Asgard” you added.

There was a pause.

“What did you do anyway?” Steve asked. “Exist, I guess” you shrugged. Steve looked at you. “They can’t be after you just like that… If you have done nothing” he said as his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned against the wall. “Yes, yes they can” you said. “And frankly I think they might have a point” you admitted. “I have no idea what I am capable of” you added. “You don’t seem dangerous” Steve commented. You huffed. “Thank you” you said.

There was a pause.

“Maybe you should train?” Steve offered. “Well, yes. But there’s no one here that knows how to train me” you said. Steve hummed. “Follow me” he said and exited. You hesitated before you followed the man. He led you down the halls. You passed the common area and could see all the other’s sit there. Well almost everyone, except for Nat. They looked exhausted. “Where have they been?” you asked Steve.

He stopped.

“Where’s Nat?” you asked. Steve frowned as his eyes scanned the room behind the window.

“Wait here” Steve said. You nodded. He walked inside and you saw them talking but didn’t hear a single word. Suddenly Steve turned on his heel. He walked out and looked worried. “What’s going on?” you asked but got no answer.

Steve walked down a corridor where you had never been. You followed him and said nothing. After all, he didn’t ask you not to.

The two of you entered a door and you saw Nat laying down on a bench. Her entire side was covered in blood. Steve rushed to her side. He clearly cared for her. “What happened?” Steve asked. Nat tried to sit up, but Steve pushed her back down. “Little mishap” she said. “I’ll be fine” she added. Steve didn’t look as if he believed her.

“I can help” you said from the door. Your fingers itched to do something as you knew you could heal her injury quite easy. Nat and Steve shared a look. “I have mended a lot of soldier’s injuries before” you tried to assure them.

“Let see what she’s got” Nat suggested and Steve nodded. You felt your shoulders getting lighter as you approached her. You removed her shirt. A slash that had been sown stretched from her hip all the way up to below her bra. You moved your digits around the cut to determine how deep it was. You noticed that there was something missing, something that should be there. Something that had been removed. Once you realized what it was you felt sorrow for her but tried to act as if you hadn’t noticed.

You let your fingers hover over the cut and the familiar golden glow emerged from them and her skin sealed itself slowly. You made sure the tearing below the skin was healed as well before you offered to remove the old stitches. Nat nodded and looked at you amazed.

“You will be sore for a few hours I think…” you said and gave her a slight smile. “I should return to my room” you said and left. You rushed yourself. You could feel tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. Using your magic had triggered something in you. You missed home. You missed the time when you felt like you had a purpose. When you didn’t feel like a silly girl that had just had a big crush on one of the princes. Helping out in the healing wing would and were to become your life if Loki hadn’t returned.

You walked back to your room unnoticed and sat back down on the bed and picked up the book again. It helped you getting distracted from your feelings.

It took a while for you to realize but the book was about Steve. You remembered Nat calling him Cap and so did Tony. Cap of course was short for Captain. What made you realize though was the name of his friend. James Buchanan. Bucky for short. The man you had seen in your slight intrusion.

No one bothered you for the rest of the day. Food was brought to your room when you hadn’t appeared for the meals. New books were placed on the dresser every day. Both fiction and from Midgardian historical events. Some were more interesting than others.

☾

A few days had passed, almost a week.

The rain tapped on the windows of your room. Your finger trailed down with one of the drops. Something was wrong. You could feel in your bones. No more books had been brought to you which had resulted in you walking around the compound, until you finally found your way back to your room. You liked the rain. It eased your mind, but still something was wrong. Very wrong. Your head snapped towards the door.

You could feel his presence.

Thor was on the other side.

You went to the door and opened it. Your smile dropped as you saw the state of him. He looked tired and beaten up. He was shaking his head as you let him enter the small room. Something was wrong.

Indeed, very wrong.

“Are you hurt” you asked. You felt your chest starting to ache as he didn’t answer. He looked like he came straight from a fight. Why did he come to you? “I can’t say it” he said. He was sobbing. “Say what?” you asked foolishly.

You blinked. He looked at you with so much sorrow you had an intruding thought that you pushed away.

“Show me” you said. You placed your hand on his forehead and concentrated.

Loki was lifted in the air when you saw it, the flashing of the point through the creature’s body. The creature slammed Loki to his chest piercing him in one swift motion. You couldn’t watch more and instantly you withdrew your hand. A tear rolled down your cheek before your emotions disappeared.

It was as if you had been drained of everything. Every thought, every feeling simply gone. You fell to your knees

“Not again” you whispered. ´I can’t go through this again´ you thought. "He's not gone"

Thor looked at down at you. Your eyes closed. Your hand was wrapped around the other wrist and you pressed hard.

Thor’s arms reached around you and he pulled you up to him.

He wasn't gone. You felt it in your bones. But you still had seen him die.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he pressed your limp body to his.

“He can’t be” you muttered. Your lower lip shook slightly. “He is” Thor said. A part of you didn’t believe him. But that was not the logical part of you. That was the naïve and passionate part of you. Was it really so? He was dead. Gone. Thor had watched him with his own eyes, and you had watched it through his.

“I…” you started. You felt the buzz under your skin. You needed to let it out or it would burn you. Why? You thought. Couldn’t the Norns cut my thread instead?

“Here” Thor said as his hands went into your hair. He braided it and as he drew back you understood what he had done as you looked into the mirror behind him. A raven black lock was braided into your own hair.

You grabbed Thor´s arms as you started to glow. You tried to control it. Dim it down. “Breath” he whispered. Your eyes met his kind ones and you drew in a deep breath. You didn´t want to be seen as a weapon. You didn´t want to hurt anyone let alone put anyone in severe danger.

The glow disappeared and a click sounded in your ears right before everything went black.

☾

Something clung to your arm. A needle pierced your skin and was connected to something that looked like some sort of transparent fluid. You sat up and got extremely dizzy and laid back down. The door opened and you saw Nat enter. Were they poisoning you? Your arm flung over and you tried to remove the needle, but Nat held you back.

“We’re just trying to help you” Nat said as she pinned you to the bed. Your muscles flexed out of reflex and energy flew through your arms. Nat flew to the wall. Once you realized what you had done you wanted to apologize, to help her. Heal her if necessary. But you were completely drained and felt yourself falling back to sleep.

When you woke again the needle in your arm was gone. You had been moved to another room. Nat sat beside you looking at a small screen in her lap. “I am so sorry” you said. She looked almost startled as you spoke. Your voice cracked. You didn’t try to cover it up. She smiled. “I don’t know what came over me-” you stopped as you started to remember your time with Thor. Loki was gone again. “I’m fine” she broke off your thoughts. She turned her head to watch the monitor beside you. A big bruise peaked from behind her shirt. You tried to move your hand and noticed you were pinned to the bed. Your eyes moved to your wrists. A thin chain surrounded your wrists. On closer inspection you saw the familiar white bones surrounding the chain like little beads. A shiver ran down your spine.

How did they get this? Had Thor given it to them? Did they use these on witches and other Midgardians who used magic? You tried to keep calm and controlled your breath, but Nat noticed a change in you.

“Is she awake?” a man stepped out from one of the plates. “Yes” Nat said before she stood up to walk away. “Wait” you said. She stopped. “I can help you” you offered as you nodded to her shoulder. She frowned slightly before she returned to walk out. “Nat” the man said. They exchanged a look before she returned to her chair. The man came to your side. “I’m Bruce, by the way” he smiled. He looked friendly. They all were, they were Thor’s friends. He trusted them. More than he trusted you apparently. With a click the chains loosened and you felt energized at once. You sat up and turned towards Nat.

She turned her back to you and you felt her skin. It was soft and warm. You could feel the pattern of the bruise from underneath her shirt. “I am so sorry” you said and started to concentrate. You had promised yourself, but maybe your power could be used for good? Warm glow erupted from your fingers and Bruise studied your movement with interest. You felt her skin heal and you drew back once you had finished. Using your powers gave you a sense of euphoria you couldn´t quite explain.

“There” you said. You studied your hands. Your ring was gone. Maybe it was for the best. You knew deep down you would never be able too but trying to forget Loki would probably be for the best.

A strange feel of emptiness washed over you. You wanted to be alone. Away from everything and everyone.

“Can I leave?” you asked. Bruce looked at you strange. “We´re not holding you against your own will” he said, but before you could answer Tony was at the door. “No but running away would be suspicious” he said as he came towards you. Nat hadn´t gotten her shirt back on and you noticed Tony giving her a look over. You hadn´t quite figured out their form of relationship, but it was strange.

“I´ll fix something for you” Tony said as he popped a piece of food in his mouth and winked at you. “Having you here is already putting a target on the compound” he added.

He was right. A sense of guilt erupted in your abdomen. Hadn´t you been so tired you would have apologized. Offered your help to them. Whatever it was they would need you would offer it to them. But you didn´t, you needed to get away from here.

☾

Tony had been kind enough to get you a small cabin in the mountains near a river. It was located in a small country called Norway. You would get supplies you needed brought to you, hence you wouldn´t be able to connect with the local inhabitants. Not that there were many but having someone to talk to would have been nice.

You had stayed here for a long time. According to the calendar you had stayed here for seven months. You had gotten calls from Tony and J.A.R.V.I.S. had become sort of a friend to you. Until he had disappeared. You had realized it was because something had happened at Stark tower. And something in Sokovia as well. The news was quite secretive. For a while you almost thought they had forgotten about you, which you wouldn´t have minded, but when you still got the food and equipment deliveries, you realized they had not.

Being all alone up in the mountains had led to you having nothing else to do except train your powers and read up on the Midgardian books that were placed in the massive bookshelf that covered almost the whole wall in the cabin. You had electricity, water and everything you needed inside.

You had turned to taking hikes and running in the hillsides. The Asgardian blood in your veins and other genetics made you stronger and faster than the Midgardians. You hair had gotten longer and were usually in a braid together with Loki´s lock of hair. Forgetting him had become impossible. You could never do that. He had showed you a part of yourself you never wanted to lose. The part that showed how much you could care about another being. And how good it felt to be loved by another.

You had just gotten back from one of your hikes and had taken a long hot shower as you had almost drowned in the rain and the wind had almost blown you away. You still heard the winds outside once you were in the bath.

You dried yourself with a quick spell before you got dressed with one as well. A nice set of dark green joggers alongside a hoodie that matched. The cabin had become quite personal to you. You had decorated it with your favourite flowers and the colours on the cutlery and other easy customizable things had been arranged after a few weeks. You actually felt at home here, except for the loneliness.

A computer had been brought up to you at your request. You wanted more information about a whole variety of things. Once you realized how easy it was, the attack on New York was only a search away. Pictures had popped up alongside articles of survivors and other people who had lost everything alongside the material damage. Loki´s name was nowhere to be seen, probably at the demand from Thor. And for that you were grateful. For the next nights you had wept for them. And Loki. He had been mad to do such things. But you knew who had made him do it. Not that it was an excuse, but it helped.

Loki wasn´t evil. He never had been evil.

You made yourself a quick cup of tea. And headed for the couch. Your senses sharpened as if something were about to happen. You put down the cup of tea. A knock sounded from the door. No one had visited you before. You stood up straight and looked towards the door. Your heartbeat raised. You could still hear the winds and heavy rain. Maybe it was a hiker that had lost her way? Your gut told you otherwise, but you still hesitated before you approached the door. You reached for the handle and something in you told you not to open it. Right before your fingers touched the cold metal handle, there was another knock. It made you snap out of your own silly thoughts and open the door.

Once you saw who it was you let go of the handle and backed inside the house. Dizziness overcame you, and you thought you might faint or throw up, or maybe both.

“I meant to come sooner” Loki said, his voice smooth as silk.

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lilyofthesword-writes · 3 years

Text

Insistence

Summary: Loki is being stubborn even when injured, not wanting help for fear of seeming weak. You ignore his protests and tend to him anyways.

Pairing: Loki x Field/Combat Medic!Reader

Word Count: 2,864

Warnings/Disclaimers: Mild violence. Injuries, burns. I don’t go into gory detail. Minor character death alluded to.

A/N: This one took longer than I anticipated. I wound up rewriting it midway through. The whole combat medic has been on my list of ideas for a while with only the most basic idea in my head. Once I start writing, it veered off in a different direction.

Masterlist

“I do not require your assistance, Mortal,” Loki spat, his voice lacking the venom it was usually laced with especially when you were trying to do your job.

You scoffed, gently dabbing at the tiny lacerations on his cheek. “Well, you’re getting it anyways. What kind of field medic would I be if I didn’t help everyone on the team?”

He scowled as you brushed a rogue ribbon of inky hair behind his ear so you could make sure you didn’t miss anything. In truth, this was the first time he didn’t continuously insist on pushing you away. There was always something about him not needing your treatments or someone else needing to be tended to first - Any excuse he could use to deny help. Then again, there was nowhere for him to run this time.

Either Fury’s intel had been wrong, your team’s plans had been leaked or both. The HYDRA base you all had been sent to had been overstocked in both operatives and ammunition. Even with the legacy team that accepted Loki almost half a year ago, you weren’t prepared.

Nat had been the worst, immediately being taken down when she attempted to infiltrate the base. That was when the HYDRA members started spilling out from within and around the base. With the rest of the team providing backup, Clint was able to help you lug her back to the Quinjet where you cleaned the deep gash in her side and stitched her together again. Of course, Clint wasn’t going to stand down. He stayed by the ramp, firing arrow after arrow to keep some of the heat off his companions. You wound up having to patch up his bleeding leg while he continued to fight.

Steve was the next to return. He collapsed in a seat as you reached him. Bruised and battered, he was mostly alright save for the possibility of some broken ribs. Tony crashed-landed onto the ramp, the metal of his suit screeching and scraping as he skidded inside. He was in the same boat as Steve along with his suit quickly losing power. There wasn’t much left he could do. Thor lumbered backwards into the Quinjet, Mjolnir still boomeranging out into the field to take down what enemies he could. With the God of Thunder standing guard, Clint disappeared to the cockpit.

The engines whirred to life. “Okay, guys! Jet’s primed and ready for take off. We got everyone?” Clint called out.

You took a look around, hearing the engines ready themselves. Thor cursed under his breath as he continued throwing his hammer. Where was… Oh… Oh no.

Shoving the cotton ball doused in antiseptic into Tony’s hand, you peeled away from his side and hovered near Thor. Against the bright white snow, a twister of black, green and gold ferociously danced. Loki was still out there.

“Do NOT take off yet!” you hollered back.

With a huff, you opened a hidden compartment and pulled out a sniper rifle along with its tripod. After piecing together the barrels, you attached the small tripod and settled on the floor, taking aim in Loki’s general direction. You popped off a couple rounds onto any of the HYDRA agents who dared try to catch the mischievous god off guard.

Tony shuffled to his feet, cursing when he realized just what was happening. By this time, he had removed himself from the drained Iron Man suit. “Trade places, Legolas! Reindeer Games is still out there!” He dashed to the cockpit.

You fired again, this operative having gotten too close for comfort. Loki had turned just in time to see opponent drop dead at his feet. With a near indiscernible nod that could only be seen through your scope, he carried on, slowly making his way to the Quinjet.

Despite his own injury, Clint was swiftly back at your side. With the extra backup, an exhausted Thor was able to make it off the ramp, farther into the fray and meet his brother halfway. Clint and you kept the path clear enough for them to rush back. It was stunning to see how well they could work together when they needed to.

The moment they were in reach of the ramp, you leapt to your feet and with Clint pulled the exhausted brothers on board. The ramp lifted as you tugged Loki into sitting, and the Quinjet took off. So, here you were, attempting to take care of the trickster’s wounds after having checked on Thor.

“I am a god,” he sneered half heartedly. “I will heal quickly. This is unnecessary.” He winced lightly as the antiseptic stung his cheek.

You sighed, “Any one can heal those cuts, but just because you can do so faster than the rest of us, doesn’t mean you are impervious to infections. Just less likely to get them.”

He went silent at that, either realizing you were right or just not desiring to argue further. Done with one side, you swapped to the seat on the other side of him. With a clean, freshly wetted cotton ball, you gingerly began cleaning his other cheek. All things considered, Loki didn’t look too bad. At least, not as bad as he could have. With your freehand, you coaxed him to lift his chin up so you could tend to the lacerations on his neck.

“Why?” His voice was soft, just loud enough for only you to hear him.

“Why, what?” You copied his volume level.

“Why do you insist on this?”

You stopped your ministrations, raising your gaze to look him in the eye. His face was uncharacteristically soft as he looked back at you. Though he tried to hide it, his aventurine eyes held an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“Well,” you started slowly, carefully choosing your words. “You are a member of this team, and you should be treated as such.” Fingers still ghosting his chin, you guided him to face you. “You deserve the same treatment I would give everyone else.”

His brow furrowed as he studied you cautiously. It took him a moment before he finally spoke again. “Should that be what you wish to believe, it is fine by me.” You could hear the sharpness returning to his voice.

The god turned away, leaning back in his seat with closed eyes, effectively ignoring you. Now, you could have chosen to change seats, to move away from the cold attitude clearly directed at you, but you stayed. One, you were tired like everyone else and didn’t feel like getting up. Two, you were going to be stubborn and bug him with your presence.

Eventually a calm quiet enveloped the Quinjet, seeping into your bones. Feeling your eyes droop, you settled in your seat for as much comfort as you could get before drifting off.

You imagined hours had passed by the time you woke. Your muscles ached from the position you had fallen into, your neck being the worst. Tentatively rolling your shoulder, you tried to sit up and stretch only to find you couldn’t. Your head was resting you thought was the side of your seat, but there was a light weight keeping on top keeping you from moving. You opened your eyes to a shocking sight.

No, your sleeping position was a bit different from what you thought. Your makeshift pillow happened to be Loki’s shoulder. He, in turn, had his head on yours, probably having fallen asleep shortly after you. It seemed like he was still asleep, his chest rhythmically rising and falling in a way that could be described as soft. You could only imagine the tranquil expression on his face. There was absolutely no way you were going to look. You would probably move too much and wake him, and that would be the end of this little moment.

The rest of the team was asleep, save for Thor. Even with exhaustion drenching his body, he was wide awake, grinning like a madman when he realized you had caught him watching. How long had he bared witness to the scene unfolding? With a scowl, you pressed your finger to your lips, signaling him to keep quiet. He merely nodded, that knowing smile still plastered on his face.

The call you received from Maria shocked the lingering sleep from your body. A small team had been formed to infiltrate a hostage situation - a team that included Nat, Loki, Steve and another field medic whose name you hadn’t even had the chance to remember yet. The mission had soured once they reached the hostages. Everyone was being brought back to the compound for treatment. It was all hands on deck.

Quickly shucking your pajamas, you threw on a pair of scrubs and sneakers and made a mad dash to the Med Bay. The place was pure chaos. Most of the doctors and nurses were tending to the hostages in the main rooms. The team was near the back in separate rooms.

Spotting Maria who was attempting to direct people and bring some semblance of order to the wing, you rushed over to her. “Where do you need me?”

She flipped through the files on her data pad, not even looking up to see who she was speaking to. “Everyone has a medic taking care of them except for Steve and Loki. Start there.”

“Understood,” you nodded, leaving Maria to do what else was needed.

Down the hall, you took note of the injuries you could see of the various patients. Burns… Lots of burns… What in the world happened?

Passing by Nat’s room, she seemed mostly alright. She gave you a minute bob of her head that you reciprocated before meeting up with Steve. He had burns along one side of his body. Thankfully, the treatment would be minimal compared to some of the others.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a grimace as you began your work.

“How’re you feeling?”

He huffed out a tiny laugh, “Honestly, not terrible.”

With the top half of his suit tugged down, you gingerly cleaned and added ointment to soothe the wounds. “What happened out there?”

“One of the hostages… Well… He had an explosive… Saddled up to Trevor…”

Oh… The field medic… Oh god…

Steve sucked in a breath like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. “Loki tried to contain it, but… We were all a little late in reacting.”

Your hands stilled. “How bad is he?”

The super soldier plucked the salve container from your fingers. “He’ll live, but if you’re really that worried about him, I can handle the rest of this.”

“You know him.” You tried to snag the container back. “He’ll come up with any excuse to not let us help him. If he knows I left you here, he’ll insist I leave him alone.”

Steve held it away from you with his good arm like a kid holding its younger sibling’s toy out of reach. “I doubt he will do that this time,” he smiled reassuringly, a glint of knowing shining in his eyes.

Leaning on the bed, you heaved a sigh. “You’re gonna drag me in there if I refuse, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he ended with a pop. “Now get going!” He shooed you away.

“Fine,” you groaned, playfully dramatic. “But you can bet I will be back later to make sure you did everything right.”

He let loose a chuckle. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Leaving Steve to his own devices, you went to the next room down the hall. The door was shut and the privacy blinds were closed. Was Loki hurt that badly that the others had to be hidden away?

With a quick announcing knock, you steeled yourself and pushed the door open, sliding in before silently closing it again. When you turned to face Loki, you were met with something you hadn’t quite expected to see. What burns still littered his skin looked as though they were mostly healed over, but that wasn’t the problem. With his armor off, you were able to get a good look at his arms and upper torso.

Blue. His skin was blue. Ridges meticulously adorned his arms, up his chest and even his face. It was such a stark contrast to his Asgardian form, yet it still suited him well. From unmarred, alabaster skin to decorated, indigo skin. Perfection in both forms.

“Loki?” you announced your presence as softly as possible.

His face scrunched as he squinted his eyes open to find you standing beside him. “Aren’t there others that need tending to?” The hoarseness of his voice betrayed the harshness he attempted to convey.

“We’ve enough staff to manage everyone well enough,” you shook your head with a smile.

Now that you were closer, you could see he was sweating profusely. His breaths were so shallow. Brushing away a locket of hair matted to his forehead, you found his skin warm… Much warmer than it should be. Instead of recoiling immediately, you laid your palm flush with his forehead. “You are burning up!”

You pulled away to pop outside the door. Waving down a nurse, you asked him to bring in as many ice packs as he could. What was currently stored in the room would not be enough. Returning, you pulled out all of the packs. You wrapped them in some towels so they wouldn’t directly touch his skin. Then, you placed them around Loki, hoping this would be enough until the nurse got back with you.

The god rested silently while you worked. It was only when you pulled up a chair next to him to keep an eye on his vitals that he finally spoke. “Why are you still here?” A sort of vulnerability leaked out of his voice.

“Because you need help,” you deadpanned, really not wanting this argument again.

“No.” His brow furrowed with frustration, ruby eyes staring at the ceiling. “Why haven’t you run yet?”

You brushed a little more of his tresses away from his face. “And why would I do that?”

“Are you blind? Do you not see the monstrosity before you?” He scowled, still refusing to look at you.

“No, I don’t.”

He barked out a laugh that he immediately regretted. “Then what, pray tell, do you see?”

Reaching across for his cheek, you guided him to face you, receiving little resistance. His skin was still hot but not quite as much as before. “I see a person who risked his own safety to protect a bunch of civilians. There’s no way you could be a monster even with your jötun form.”

“So, you do know what I am…” A deep frown etched across his face.

“Yes… If it makes you feel any better, only a select few know. I have to know the medical histories of all the Avengers if I’m to treat them in the field.”

Silence…

“And for what it’s worth, this,” your thumb graced the apple of his cheek, “is not scary in the slightest.”

His eyes searched yours frantically for any hint of dishonesty. A trembling hand raised and settled on yours, pressing it further on his face. His lips parted to speak but was interrupted by a light knock on the door.

With an apologetic smile, you slid your hand from his grasp. The nurse from before had returned with the ice packs. A quick “thank you” and you brought the tray in the room, shutting the door behind you. Just as you had before, you surrounded him with the new packs. Loki’s chest rose and fell more deeply as he cooled down even further, skin morphing into a pale sky blue and eyes returning to the bluish-green you’ve come to know.

“Well, you’re at least responding quickly. How do you feel?” You hovered at his bedside.

He locked eyes with you again, a cocktail of emotions swirling about despite his attempts to keep a straight face. “I-” he cleared his throat. “Better…”

“Good, good…” Your hands fiddled with the sheets. “Is there anything you need?”

Loki’s lips pursed, and he swallowed thickly. His digits brushed against yours, halting your nervous tick. “Stay?”

“Of course,” you breathed.

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards as you glided your fingers into his palm like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together, giving his hand a light squeeze. You pulled your seat closer and sat back down.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Loki raised your hand to his face. His lips grazed over your knuckles as he whispered, “Thank you…”

“Anytime.” And you meant it. “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

He let your entwined hands float back down to the bed as he chuckled. “If that’s the case, I do hope you are well prepared.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smirked. “And just how long do you plan on keeping me around?”

“For as long as you will have me.”

Little did either of you know, Thor had come to the Med Bay to check on Loki after he heard the news and was listening to the conversation through the closed door. He decided to leave you be for now. The congratulations and light teasing could wait until tomorrow.

Tag List: @nahthanks

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pitch-pearl-void · 3 years

Text

Danny claims Phantom is his boyfriend to save him from his parents’ operation table, but Jack and Maddie won't make it that easy for them

Phantom passed out beneath the electrifying force of a ghost net, frightened and angry and hurt, so when he woke up, the howl that had been trapped in his chest burst free. He screamed, using all the power he could force through his vocal cords. His ghostly wail. Panicked shouting erupted. Someone yelled about a sedative. Phantom yelled louder, fear making him desperate.

If they knocked him out again before he had a chance to escape--

A warm body fell over him, chest to chest, core to heart. "Phantom, stop!"

The power Phantom had been channeling into his throat recoiled, cancelled itself out. His scream, absent of any real power, became that of a frightened teenager, and, embarrassingly, when he stopped screaming, it turned into a sob.

"It's okay," the human--Danny--said. He stroked warm fingers through Phantom's hair. "It's okay." Quieter then, whispered quickly into his ear, Danny added, "I have a plan."

Phantom's mind was too frazzled to make any sense of what that could mean, but if Danny was there...Phantom couldn't destroy whatever lab he was in without killing his friend in the process. Lashing out against the ones that had hurt him was no longer an option.

"Danny," Phantom gasped, his voice raw, slightly scratchy. Phantom turned his head until his cheek could press against Danny's, stealing a moment's guilty pleasure. To his surprise, Danny didn't pull away.

In fact, he pressed closer and turned his head toward Phantom in return. Phantom felt Danny's lips brush against his cheek, and he was so startled he almost missed those lips moving as Danny urgently whispered, "Play along."

Phantom pried his eyes open. "What?"

Jack appeared above them. Phantom tensed as the man's hardened eyes met his. Those dark blue eyes softened as they slid to his son, however. "Okay, Danny." Jack clamped a large hand over Danny's shoulder. "You made your point."

Danny slowly lifted himself off Phantom.

Phantom wanted to protest or at least wrap his arms around Danny to stop him--an impossible desire since there was something pinning his wrists to the examination table--but one look at Jack's wary face warned Phantom not to press his luck. Phantom reluctantly endured the loss of Danny's body heat and the comfort he had offered as a shield between Phantom and Danny's parents.

Before he could feel too abandoned, however, Danny's hand grabbed Phantom's and squeezed. Phantom fought against the urge to widen his eyes.

"Play along" Danny had said. Danny wanted Phantom to follow his lead, and right now, that apparently meant...holding hands.

To test that theory, Phantom spread his fingers apart. Danny's fingers slotted into the resulting gap and folded over the back of Phantom's hand. Phantom could feel his cheeks getting cold, and he desperately hoped he wasn't blushing in front of Danny's parents.

"So that's it?" Danny asked, his tone somehow conveying wariness and hope at the same time. "You'll let him go?"

Maddie sighed. Phantom heard her footsteps, and he turned his head to watch her approach. He couldn't see her eyes since, unlike Jack, she had pulled her hood up, but the straight, thin line of her lips gave Phantom the impression she was unhappy about something.

"With restrictions," she said. She pressed a button on the side of the table, and the force holding Phantom's wrists and ankles to the table vanished. He sat up quickly--too quickly for the ghost hunters because they flinched back--and scooted closer to Danny, holding tight to the human's hand. The hunters watched him, waiting, but when Phantom didn't move any farther or try to fly away, they exchanged frowns with each other.

"Restrictions?" Danny asked.

In answer, Maddie held out a metal bracelet. Like the Fenton Thermos, the seems along the metal sheet were green, filled with ectoplasm that ran along the circular design. "To suppress his powers."

Phantom wrinkled his nose and glared at the device. Why she was handing it to Danny instead of clamping it over Phantom's wrist herself, prior to letting him go, Phantom didn't understand, but if they were expecting Danny to put that on him, they were in for a surprise.

Indeed, Danny accepted the device but didn't clamp it to Phantom's wrist. "Can we go now?" he asked.

Maddie's lips pressed even tighter together.

Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll be talking about this more in the morning, young man."

"Right." Danny stepped away from the table and tugged on Phantom's arm, urging him to follow. "Looking forward to it."

Phantom didn't trust his legs to support him, so, even though the ghost hunters were watching him with narrowed eyes and frowning lips, Phantom levitated off the table and floated after Danny. Danny was walking fast, faster than Phantom could fly at the moment, but Phantom had no complaints about the speed even though Danny was dragging him through the air. He glanced warily behind them. Jack and Maddie were still watching them...but they weren't following and they hadn't pulled out an antighost device.

Danny trotted up the stairs, cutting off Phantom's view.

Just as well, Phantom thought, shivering.

That he had woken up in one piece after the hunters who swore to tear him apart had finally captured him was surprise enough, but that they were letting him go? And in their son's company? With no supervision?

They were halfway through the living room when the question finally burst free of Phantom's control. "What did you tell them?"

Danny glanced at him over his shoulder, met Phantom's eyes, before jerking his head back around. His pace didn't slow. "I, uh...Once we get to my room. I can fill you in then."

Although Phantom could no longer see Danny's face, the back of the human's neck and the tips of his ears had darkened to a suspicious pink color.

He's blushing, Phantom realized. He glanced down at their still clasped hands and felt his own blush, much colder and greener than the human variety, flood his cheeks.

He stopped floating after Danny but didn't let go of his hand, forcing Danny to jerk to a halt. "Danny..." he said, voice low, "what did you tell them?"

Danny hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. Phantom floated around to his front, but Danny turned his head away. "I...they, uh, they were going to experiment on you, and I, um, I might have panicked. A little."

"Okay..." Phantom urged, speaking gently, "I'm not ungrateful, Danny. You probably saved my life! Well, afterlife. But how did you convince them to stop? They've been threatening to tear me apart pretty much since I arrived in your dimension."

Danny glanced at Phantom from the corner of his eye. "Promise you uh..." Danny winced and pinched his eyes closed. "Promise you won't get mad?"

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "I promise."

Danny breathed in deeply. "Itoldthemweweredating."

As garbled as the words were, Phantom heard the last one all-too clearly. His levitation cancelled out and he dropped to the floor. As he had expected, his legs collapsed under him and he fell forward, into Danny. Danny let go of Phantom's hand and wrapped his arms around Phantom's shoulders, supporting him as Phantom clung to his shirt.

"D-dating?" Phantom gasped. "We're dating?"

Had he missed something? Wasn't there a...process? He was sure kissing would have been involved at some point. A confession of feelings at the very least.

"No!" Danny said hurriedly. "Well...uh, kind of? My parents think we are so we have to pretend, but...it's just pretend. Don't freak out!"

"Oh." Did he sound too disappointed? Hopefully all Danny heard was his confusion and not Phantom's rising hope shattering on the floor. He shifted his feet, eager to pull away from Danny, but his legs weren't as steady as he would like. He managed to stand on his own only by virtue of holding onto Danny's shirt. "And they were okay with that?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. He started to pull his arms away, stopped, and settled them around Phantom's shoulders again as a loose hug.

Phantom felt a swooping sensation in his stomach.

"Not so much 'okay' as..." Danny bit his lip as he thought, trying to put Jack's and Maddie's reactions into words. "I don't know...They're letting me get away with it, but I think they might be testing us."

"Testing us?"

Danny removed one arm from his loose embrace and held up the cuff Maddie had given him between them. Phantom flinched back, almost pulling out of Danny's hug.

Almost.

Danny glared at the device, as distrustful as Phantom. "If you're still here tomorrow morning, with this suppressing your powers, then they'll know we're serious about being in a relationship. If you're not...they'll start hunting you again. And...I'm not sure I could stop them a second time."

Phantom shivered. He had been strapped to their examination table once already. If Danny hadn't been there...he didn't want to think about it. "Without my powers," he said slowly, "I will be helpless. I will have to trust you to keep me safe and them to keep their word."

Danny nodded unhappily.

Phantom eyed the device.

On one hand, he didn't trust the Fenton adults. They had never shown him an ounce of kindness or understanding. They had been willing to electrocute him into unconsciousness and strap him to a table without any consideration for him as a person. Who knew what else they had planned to do with him once he was in their clutches.

On the other hand...he wanted to earn their respect. He wanted to work with them to protect the town from ghosts, he wanted their help understanding his own powers, he wanted to no longer fear them. The cuff and Danny's offer represented a chance wherein things could get better if he just had the courage.

And...fake though it would be, the idea of dating Danny even for the sake of his safety appealed to him greatly. Just holding his hand had made Phantom's soul soar. What more would Danny allow to maintain the illusion of a relationship?

Cuddling?

Kissing?

Phantom's cheeks frosted and he quickly pushed the thought aside. Danny was only doing it to protect him. Phantom didn't want to take advantage of Danny's kindness, no matter how tempting. Bad enough he would be going into the fake relationship with secret feelings for Danny, he didn't need to make things worse for Danny by asking for a kiss in front of his parents.

Even if Phantom's daydreams of such a thing were deeply thrilling...

He couldn't pass up this chance. A chance to prove himself to the ghost hunters and date their son? At the same time? He had to take it. It was everything he wanted, what he had dreamed about every time he flew past Fenton Works.

Phantom sighed and reached for the cuff.

Instead of handing it to him, Danny jerked it closer to his chest, his eyes wide. "Phantom?"

"The benefits outweigh the risks, don't you think?" Phantom whispered. "I can't pass up this chance." Instead of reaching for the cuff again, Phantom turned his hand over, holding out his palm. "Just keep me safe. I trust you."

Danny searched his expression, but Phantom's resolve was strong, held in place as much by his attraction to Danny as by his desire to be accepted by the Fentons. Danny's shoulders slumped. Reluctantly, he placed the cuff in Phantom's hand.

"If anything happens to you because of this--" Danny began, only to cut himself off. He grimaced. "Phantom..."

Phantom glanced up from the cuff and smiled reassuringly at Danny. "I'll be fine. Just watch, by this time next week, you will actually be in love with me and your parents will declare me part of the family!"

Before Danny had a chance to respond, Phantom snapped the cuff shut.

Pain exploded inside him. He screamed, falling to his knees. Danny dropped to the floor beside him, calling his name. He held onto Phantom's arms and stared anxiously at his face, beautiful blue eyes wide and frightened.

"I'm fine," Phantom gasped, staring into those eyes. "I'm fine. It's just. Rebound. I was. I was healing myself. The energy I was using started burning. But I'm fine. I'm fine."

So long as he didn't use his powers.

Apparently, the cuff didn't so much suppress his powers as make using them painful. That was good, because if his or Danny's life was ever truly in danger, Phantom could still save them.

It was bad because...it felt a little like a shock collar.

Phantom cringed. Shivered.

Before he could say anything else, Danny wrapped his arms around Phantom's neck and hugged him tight. Phantom froze for a moment, stunned. Danny had never hugged him before. Not like that.

We're supposed to be dating, he reminded himself. Hugging is part of the package.

Phantom's stomach swooped again. He slipped his own arms around Danny's waist before Danny could get any ideas about pulling away too soon and returned the tight embrace, turning his head so he could press his face against Danny's neck. It was a little awkward, what with the way they were both sitting on their knees, forced to lean forward to maintain the hug, but Phantom didn't think he could convince Danny to climb onto his lap just yet.

For that matter, if Phantom tried climbing onto Danny's, the human might squeak and retreat in a flustered panic.

"You sure you're okay?" Danny whispered.

"Yes." Phantom felt Danny shiver in his arms, likely due to Phantom's speaking the word against his neck, but Phantom couldn't bear to leave the warmth of his embrace yet. "I'll tell you more once you get to your room." He hesitated. "I can't heal or use more powers anymore, though. Can you..."

"Carry you?"

"Yes."

"Yeah." Danny broke the embrace but didn't go far. He shifted around Phantom until he was pressed against his side, one arm wrapping around his shoulders. "Lean back," he instructed. "I have to get your legs."

Phantom leaned backward, delighted to feel Danny's arm catching him, holding him. He untucked his legs from under himself, and as soon as his knees were in position, Danny slid his arm under them.

"Ready?" Danny asked.

Phantom nodded.

It was strange to be lifted by someone else rather than by his own powers, but as Phantom found himself cradled in Danny's arms, held securely against his chest, he couldn't resist smiling. He had wondered what it would feel like.

Danny climbed to his feet--an unsteady movement that prompted Phantom to wrap an arm around Danny's neck--and looked toward the staircase. "This might get a little awkward," he warned.

Phantom laid his head on Danny's shoulder and let out a quiet breath. "Yeah," he agreed. The staircase was narrow, but Phantom suspected Danny's strength was about to be tested as well. "Take your time. No hurry here."

Danny snorted. "Right. You just rest, I'll do all the hard work."

"For once."

Danny laughed. "Who just saved your life?"

"My boyfriend."

Danny cleared his throat, a blush coloring his cheeks again. “Yeah. Right. I’ll just…” He walked toward the staircase, his eyes carefully avoiding Phantom’s. “I guess I should...get used to to being called that.” His blush worsened. “Your boyfriend. Oh man…”

“It was your idea,” Phantom reminded him mercilessly. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his smile from looking too besotted. He suspected he would regret the ruse later, once his feelings felt thoroughly played, but for now it was enough to feel Danny’s arms around him as he carried him up the stairs, safe and with the potential of turning the Fentons from enemies to allies within reach.

#Phantom and Danny as different people #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #pitch pearl #pitchpearl #fake date au

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

🎬for villain from call me? After that long year he needs a movie...

They really do deserve a movie! Thank you so much for the ask, I hope you like it :)

In this piece, Villain uses a sort of virtual letterboard to communicate. I did the research I could on this type of technology, but there really isn’t much information out there. If I got the representation wrong, please let me know.

@sola-whumping

For this ask game.

CW//Physical therapy, inability to walk

“Don’t want.” The digital voice chirped, ringing out in the exam room and against its walls.

“I know. I know, bud.” Doctor coaxed.

“Where Hero.”

“Hero’s just in the other room. You can go see them after your exercises, okay?”

Villain frowned, gaze casting downwards. Their legs dangled limply off the side of the exam table, muscles tense and clearly strained. They bit their lip, refusing to meet their doctor’s gaze. Instead, their eyes were fixed upon the object held in their hands.

The tablet was a large, rectangular thing-- big enough that Villain’s trembling fingers could easily find their way around its screen. It had been Hero’s idea to get the device, in the first place. Something to entertain their ward when they were away, something to do other than asking Doctor every five minutes when they would be back.

In some ways, it served its intended purpose. The simple games the screen could offer took Villain’s mind from their worries, at least briefly, though they had asked Doctor to turn off the internet connectivity. The news stories were too much for them, at the moment.

More than games, though, Villain had quickly grown attached to a particular function of the device. Doctor hadn’t given the app a second thought when they’d downloaded it--they’d only noticed when Villain started talking. The first time they’d done it, it had scared Hero half to death.

Perhaps talking wasn’t quite the right word. Or maybe it was. As far as they could tell, the app served as a sort of virtual letterboard, using letters and symbols to generate a sort of digital voice. There were only so many words that it seemed to know, but Villain had learned to operate well with the limited vocabulary.

It was good for them, though Doctor couldn’t help but wish that they would stop using it to complain about doing their exercises.

“Don’t want.” Villain stubbornly refused.

Doctor let out an exasperated sigh.

“You just need to take a few steps. Then we can go see Hero. They’re setting up the movie for tonight, remember? When we’re done in here, you can go watch a movie with Hero.”

Villain considered that for a moment. Their fingers ghosted over their tablet, as though they were trying to choose which buttons to press. Finally, they decided upon:

“Walk to Hero question mark.”

Doctor hummed. “You want to walk to Hero?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

They hadn’t even thought of that. It was certainly a better motivation than bothering them until they could walk across the exam room. They strode over to the table, holding Villain’s shoulders to steady them as they slid off the tabletop and to their feet. For a moment, they wavered, but managed to get their balance without much aid.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah.” Villain tapped on their tablet.

With a nod, Doctor took their hands from their shoulders, backing up a few steps. As Villain moved forward, their doctor backed up, always ensuring to be within arms reach in case they were to fall.

After a long, agonizing minute or two, they were at the door. Doctor opened it, moving through.

“Hero.” The digital voice called. “Hero look Hero look.”

From across the room, where the couch and television sat, Hero turned. Their face broke out in a grin as they saw Villain, making their way slowly, yet with undeniable determination. About halfway to the couch, Hero seemed to realize that their ward was growing tired. They rushed over, sweeping them into their arms. Villain purred, pushing their head to their caretaker’s chest.

“Are you about finished setting up?” Doctor asked, shutting the exam room door to contain the scent of antiseptic within.

“Yep.” Hero nodded. They moved over to the couch, laying the person they carried on the comfortable seat before tucking a blanket over them.

“Thank thank.” Villain’s tablet chirped.

“Of course, Villain.”

“Well, you finish over there, and I’ll get to making some popcorn. What do you like on yours?”

“Uh, white cheddar if you have it.”

“Alright. Um, Villain? You want popcorn?”

“Like popcorn.”

“You want some popcorn?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Let’s get this movie night started, then!”

#call me #villain whumpee #ask game #movie night #whump #whump community #hero caretaker

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goldentournesol · 3 years

Note

congrats! can I request a ⌨️ where Spence and Y/N are in a fight and someone goes too far? but with a happy ending? I’m in the mood for angst and chaos

thank you!! of course, sorry if this kind of sucks, it was so hard trying to keep it under 1k :/

She was angry.

No, she was seething.

Spencer remembered being worried that her eyes would turn red...or maybe even fall out. But almost nothing could have prepared him for the words that catapulted out of her. The look on her face told him that he should follow her. She stormed into the conference room of the police precinct in New York city. She audibly slammed the door behind them and threw down her kevlar vest. Spencer watched as it slid onto the shiny wooden table then looked back up to see her take a deep breath to try and even out her erratic breaths. She grabbed at her hair then tried to smooth it down before turning to face him completely. Being in her direct line of sight absolutely shook Spencer to his core. He felt as though he were a criminal in a court of law.

“What THE HELL was that?!” She all but screamed at him. He knew exactly what she was referring to.

“I had to do it, he would have never let that little boy go if I hadn’t gone in myself.” Spencer tried to convince her, but his voice was still rather shaky at being in her direct line of fire.

“Oh, you HAD to take your bulletproof vest off in front of an armed psychopath?!” She chided him. He could see police officers and fellow BAU team members doing their best to stay busy through the glass windows.

“Yes! I had to show him that I wasn’t a threat! You know what the profile says.” Spencer defended his actions.

“I don’t care about the damn profile, Reid! I care about you! You could have been shot! Do you understand that?! Do you understand that you could have died? Do you understand that I could have lost you?” Her volume plummeted as she asked, making Spencer’s stomach fill to the brim with anxious butterflies.

“But you didn’t, I’m here, that’s what’s important.” Spencer reminded her. She glowered at him. That wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“You don’t get it, do you? You don’t care if you die. You willingly put yourself in dangerous situations. Y-you’re selfish.” Her voice wobbled in her throat with realization, “How could I ever be with you when everything you do is so reckless? Why would I ever want to be with you if everything you touch dies?” A tear chased after her words, but she realized what she’d said too late.

“Spencer, I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry--” She tried but he was already pushing past her.

“Save it.” Spencer said as he left the room, rushing past his concerned team members to get into an SUV and drive himself back to the hotel.

The problem was that he knew she was right. Why would she ever risk her life to love him if everyone he loves always ends up getting killed?

They’d discussed their feelings very clearly. They were both head over heels in love with each other, but they decided not to rush into a relationship just yet. And now he understood why.

Spencer’s silence continued for weeks. It was unbearable to Y/N. He’d ignored all her apologies and attempts to reconcile. She’d gone to his apartment and he’d refused to open the door for her. They operated professionally but it was clear that Spencer was ignoring Y/N. It was as if she never even existed. It caused a rift within the whole team, they had heard everything. It was hard for them not to pick sides, they both loved the two of them so dearly, but it was even harder to see Y/N so heartbroken with Spencer’s silence.

She understood why he was treating her this way, she hadn’t meant to come for him like that and she knew she took it too far, but she couldn’t take this cold shoulder treatment anymore. Spencer was the most important person in her life and dammit, she loved him with every fiber of her being. Which is why she currently stood in front of his doorstep at nearly 11 PM, pounding at the wooden door. She cleared her throat.

“Spencer, it’s me again. Please, it’s been weeks. Can you let me in so I can make this right?” She tried once more, the tears springing to her eyes. This is usually where she’d give up and go home for the night, but today felt different.

“You know that I love you with every ounce of my being. What I said was harsh and I wish I could take it back. I was so angry at you, Spencer, and I know that’s not an excuse, but my God, I was livid. I was so afraid of losing you that I didn’t realize what I had said. And I didn’t realize that what I said made me lose you anyway. This sucks and I miss you...so please, please let me in?” She spoke into the door, tears falling freely now.

A beat of silence passed and she sighed deeply. She had accepted his answer and made it halfway down the stairs before the door opened and he stepped out. They made silent eye contact for the first time in weeks. His heart ached when he saw her puffy eyes and red nose. She came back up the stairs and followed him into his apartment.

He turned to face her finally, “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I don’t know how to deal with my anger in any other way.”

She smiled a little tearfully, glad to hear him direct words at her, “I really am sorry, Spencer.”

“I know, I shouldn’t have taken my vest off, it was stupid of me.” He shrugged.

“Really stupid.” She said and they both released relieved chuckles.

He stepped closer and scooped her into his arms, he buried his head in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. She squeezed him tightly and sighed in relief.

#smc ✨#steph's milestone celebration ✨#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst

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rowansparrow · 3 years

Text

Juke Box Hero: A Rose Story

This is SO STUPID LMAO But I hope you guys like it anyway. I’m back on my bullshit and I am here to provide you with a little story based off THIS POST. Anon, thank you for your service, because this was very, very fun.

This snippet takes place during Chapter Seven of BAON, during the flashback when Reader is meeting Rex for the first time and Rose and Co. are stuck cleaning up the barracks. You don’t necessarily have to have read it for this to make sense, but the right context might be neat.

Also, for timeline purposes/in BAON, Tup and Dogma technically never met Rose, as they weren’t part of the 501st before he died, but I’m including them in this because I make the rules and I wanted to.

Also Denal’s here because I think he’s a funky dude and deserves more content.

The clones deserve to dance and have fun and who’s gonna write them doing that if it ain’t me?

Rating: Mature-ish? There are some dirty jokes and swearing but mostly it’s Just fun shenanigans with Rose and Bros.

(Also I spent a TON of time picking everyone’s songs so pls tell me what you think of my selections lmao).

I’m tagging everyone from the BAON tag list in case you’re interested. Enjoy!

In retrospect, perhaps Rose should have put a stop to the loth cat situation – or as Hardcase called it, Operation: P.U.S.S.Y. He claimed it was an abbreviation for “Petting Unusually Sweet Strays, Yeah!”

“You have to call it something else.” Rose had said at the time, staring at the loth cat cradled protectively in Hardcase’s arms.

“But you’re not saying no?” Hardcase prompted eagerly, already bouncing lightly on his heels.

“Just…” Rose pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… clean up after it? And if it breaks anything, it’s on you, and for the love of Force, don’t get caught.”

Now, as the Lieutenant surveyed the disarray that had befallen the barracks, and the company of very disgruntled subordinates, he was reconsidering his earlier leniency.

“I feel as the acting SIC, you’re the one who should be taking the flak for this, not the entire company.” Jesse grumbled, glaring at Lieutenant Rose over his shoulder as he scrubbed at the floor of the barracks.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who brought a pregnant loth-cat into the barracks in the first place.” Rose replied, straightening up for a moment where he’d been hunched over, his back cracking as he moved.

“Well, you didn’t fight me very hard on it!” Hardcase protested. “And I didn’t know Beans was pregnant at the time! I didn’t even know she was a girl!”

His explanation only earned him several slugs to the arm from nearby vode.

“And just because I’m second-in-command does not make me exempt from the Captain’s wrath.” Rose added. “You didn’t get the dressing-down, you just have to carry out the punishment with me.”

“Hang on, I thought we agreed the cat’s name was going to be Road Rash?” Coric asked.

“That’s unladylike.” Said Denal. “And rude. She can’t help her scars.”

“And Beans is ladylike?” Jesse raised an eyebrow.

“She likes it! And her kits looked like beans when they came out too!”

Rose shook his head fondly at his men as they bickered. At least they weren’t complaining anymore.

In truth, he was surprised the situation had been managed as long as it had been. They’d lasted almost a full three weeks without anyone figuring out they were hiding a cat in the barracks. Of course, the kittens made it much harder, and they could only hide them in overturned helmets during inspections for so many days before the helmets started to mewl.

And once Beans threw a tantrum over not having her kits with her, it was game over. She’d knocked over an entire can of armor paint in her wrath, and blue pawprints and large paint puddles coated the durasteel of the barracks, and a few of the bunks had claw and bite marks in the fabric.

“It’ll take us an hour, maybe more, to clean this whole mess up.” Fives complained, looking around the barracks forlornly. He had a nasty scratch just under his eye from finally snatching Beans up in her rampage. “Kriff. I was excited to go out tonight.”

“Not to mention after we finish here the Captain said we had to go take over latrine and canteen detail from other battalions.”

“Then I guess you better get scrubbing.” Kix said absently, thumbing through medical requisition forms on his datapad and sitting cross-legged on one of the few bunks that didn’t have blue paw prints streaked across it.

“Why aren’t you helping? You’re part of the company too.” Echo said. “Fives and I are ARC troopers, if anyone here should be exempt from company-wide punishments, it’s us.”

“I’m not helping because I didn’t participate.” Kix replied, not looking up from his ‘pad.

“The kark you didn’t, you delivered the kits!” Fives snapped.

“Well, Captain Rex didn’t catch me, so.”

“That’s because you went and hid in the medbay and didn’t warn the rest of us he was coming.” Tup muttered under his breath.

“Not true. I sent Jesse a comm.” Kix said, finally looking up only to shrug and return to his work. “Which he didn’t check, and that’s not my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter who was involved and who wasn’t involved.” Dogma piped up. “Clearly, because if it did, I wouldn’t be here either.”

“We know.” Said Jesse and Fives in unison.

Rose sighed, his eyes drifting forlornly to his bunk. He spotted his footlocker sticking halfway out from underneath the durasteel, and he lit up. He opened it quickly, pulling out a beat-up radio he’d gotten at a market stall during one of his first deployments. He’d had to trade a droid popper and half his rations for it – Rex had not been pleased about it when he found out – but it was worth the two-day latrine rotation he’d gotten as punishment.

He’d already downloaded several songs off the HoloNet, along with a few channel recordings of past BoloBall games. Even if he knew who won them, it was still something to listen to on long stints on cruisers.

“What’cha doing, Lieutenant?” Tup asked, peeking around the corner as Rose straightened back up, fumbling with the little radio for a moment and propping it up on one of the bunks so the music could fill the whole room.

“No. NO! No.” Jesse jabbed a finger at the Lieutenant as he saw him set up the radio. “No. Absolutely not. I have had enough of your osik-brained, Force-forsaken, whack-ass music to last me a lifetime.”

Kix chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other trooper. “You listen exclusively to electronic dance music. Even when we aren’t at 79s. You have no room to talk.”

“This is better than that.” Rose promised, dialing up the volume. “This is the kind of stuff you’d find on the jukebox at Dex’s Diner.” He grinned. Dex was personal friends with General Kenobi, and was one of the few Coruscant establishments that was friendly to clones, as long as they behaved themselves. Rose had gone there with his brothers a handful of times, and even Anakin had dragged his Padawan Ahsoka, Rose, and Rex along once.

“You have a radio?” Dogma frowned. “Isn’t that contraband, sir?”

“Relax, it’s an old prewar-era radio, it’s not hurting anything.” Fives drawled, knocking Dogma lightly on the shoulder. “What’re you gonna play, sir?”

“Let’s see…” Rose filtered through his downloads, and grinned wider, pressing play.

Immediately, soft music rang through the barracks, and Jesse smacked his head against the bunk, groaning loudly.

“I’m begging you, Lieutenant.” Jesse said. “I’m begging.”

Rose was already swaying his hips, bending over to grab Jesse by the chin.

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air.” Rose serenaded him.

Jesse swatted Rose’s hand away, and Rose turned, swinging around on the side of the bunk and pointing to Fives this time. “Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night.”

Fives grinned, joining in even as he stumbled slightly over the words.

“There she stood in the doorway. I heard the mission bell and I was thinking to myself, this could be Heaven or this could be Hell.”

Kix was drumming his fingers on his datapad, nodding along and singing under his breath.

“Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say…”

“This is too slow.” Echo griped, rising to his feet and stepping over Dogma, who was still stubbornly scrubbing away at the barrack floors and refusing to engage even as the rest of the clones began quietly singing along with the chorus.

The ARC Trooper fiddled with the dial for a moment, scrolling through Rose’s music and selecting another song, already grinning as the chanting started through the speakers and eventually rippled through the ranks of the 501st.

“STOP.” Jesse barked, trying to kick Fives as the other ARC trooper hopped to his feet, stomping his feet and chanting along. “STOP, I HATE THIS ONE!”

Rose and Hardcase were chanting too, and Coric had started clapping his hands on an overturned bucket, a few shinies clapping their hands together as Echo shook his ass, kama swaying as he climbed up onto a nearby table. He scooped up a mop, pulling the handle to his mouth.

“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me.” He pointed to Kix, grinding against the handle. “Girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me.”

Kix gave him the finger, and Echo pointed to Fives, who was still chanting with the others but was now holding up his helmet, recording the whole thing. Echo amped up his performance.

“When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s alright. I’m hooked on a feeling!”

Tup whooped from where he’d moved to sit on one of the bunks. Dogma shot him a nasty look, which he ignored in favor of watching Echo strut on the table.

“I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me. Lips as sweet as candy, its taste is on my mind. Girl you got me thirsty for another cup of wine.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I have a good one.” Fives shoved his helmet at Hardcase, letting him take over recording as he scrambled to the radio, quickly turning the dial once again and elbowing Echo off the table as fast, loud, angry guitars shredded through the barracks.

Jesse seemed to perk up just slightly, and any of the 501st troopers who were still trying to actually clean – save for Dogma – had abandoned their supplies and had elected to dance instead, crowding the table and forming a makeshift mosh pit.

Fives was nothing if not a showman, and when he snatched the mop from Echo, he performed.

“When I get high, I get high on speed. Top fuel funny car’s a drug for me, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

He stomped his foot hard on the table, flipping his head back and running one hand messily through his hair.

“Always got the cops coming after me, custom-built bike doing 103, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Rose laughed, watching as Fives looked at the helmet Hardcase was hoisting up over the crowd, singing into the camera and rolling his shoulders back.

“Ooh, are ya ready, girls? Ooh, are you ready now? Woah, yeah! Kickstart my heart, baby give it a start. Woah, yeah! Baby! Kickstart my heart, hope it never stops. Woah, yeah, baby yeah!”

The clones joined him for the chorus, and then Fives dropped to his knees like he’d seen rockers do on the HoloNet, high fiving the nearest vode. Dogma was still stubbornly trying to clean up the barracks, but had moved on to one of the far corners, only giving the rest of his battalion the occasional side-eye.

“Skydive naked from an aeroplane, or a lady with a body from outer space, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart.” He wiggled his hips as he straightened back up, biting his lip through a grin and dropping his hand to his hips and shaking his fist obscenely, as though he was jerking himself off.

“Say I got trouble, trouble in my eyes, I’m just looking for another good time, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Before Fives could do something else profane – or possibly attempt to crowd-surf and give Rose a handful of incident reports to fill out, the music suddenly shifted, and all heads turned to the radio.

Kix was smirking. He’d divested himself of the top half of his armor, instead electing to shimmy his way up onto the table in just the upper half of his blacks and lower armor plates. Fives exited, rejoining the crowd as Kix leveled a sultry look at the camera for just a moment before turning his back on the crowd.

“Clean shirt, new shoes, and I don’t know where I am goin’ to. Silk suit, black tie, I don’t need a reason why.”

He spun quickly, switching his grip on the mop handle as though he was holding a woman in his arms, dipping it low towards the crowd as he sang.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives and Echo were howling with laughter, and Hardcase wolf-whistled loud enough that Rose’s ears rang. Even Jesse had finally joined in, nodding his head along to the music and trying to bite back a grin. Tup had left the crowd to instead attempt to pull Dogma in, and Denal had rounded up a few newer members and was trying to push them closer to the front.

Kix unzipped the top half of his blacks, doing a slow strip-tease in time with the music.

“Gold watch, diamond ring, I ain’t missin’, not a single thing. And cufflinks, stickpin, when I step out I’mma do you in.” Kix shrugged out of his blacks and rolled his hips along the mop handle, dropping his ass low and slowly dragging himself back up, grinding against the handle.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives actually pretended to faint, falling backwards into Echo, who was laughing so hard that he fell over with him.

“ALRIGHT!” Dogma shouted over the music, elbowing his way through the crowd with Tup following anxiously behind him. Dogma firmly stopped the music, hands on his hips as he turned to face the rest of his brothers, who’d begun to boo.

“We have orders,” Dogma reminded them. “This is a punishment, not a party. When we finish here, we’re supposed to clean the shower block, and then we’re supposed to report to the mess hall and take over the canteen cleanup shifts.”

“We know the orders, Dogma.” Rose said, putting a hand on the younger trooper’s shoulder. “There’s no harm in having fun while you work.”

“I’m the only one still working.” Dogma grumbled.

“Alright, alright, we’ll turn it low for now, and we’ll finish up in here, then we can bring the radio with us when we move to the refreshers and canteen. Fair?” He asked, turning to the rest of the men. There were a few muttered responses, and Rose raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite make that out.” He said. “We are cleaning this mess up, correct gentlemen?”

“Sir yes sir!” They all answered quickly, hurrying back to work.

Rose chuckled, shifting the music to something a little calmer, the gentle piano wafting through the barracks as they continued to clean up.

Denal’s head perked up as soon as he heard the piano start, and while he didn’t climb up onto the table like his brothers had, he smiled to himself, turning back towards the spot he was scrubbing and singing to the durasteel floor.

“I'm sailing away. Set an open course for the Virgin Sea.”

Echo hummed, closing his eyes and rocking back on his heels for a moment, listening to his older vod croon.

“'Cause I've got to be free. Free to face the life that's ahead of me.” Denal continued, his voice soft but steady. “On board I'm the captain, so climb aboard. We'll search for tomorrow on every shore and I'll try, oh Lord I'll try… to carry on.”

Somebody whistled, a few scattered claps ringing through the barracks. Coric picked up where Denal left off.

“I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory. Some happy some sad.” He sang. “I think of childhood friends, and the dreams we had.”

Tup glanced to Dogma, who was practically seething as he scrubbed at the same spot on the floor that he’d been working on for the past several minutes. “You like this song, don’t you, Dogma?”

“No I don’t. Shut up.”

“Join in. They won’t mind.” Tup encouraged.

“No.”

“We live happily forever, so the story goes. But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold.” Sang Coric. “But we'll try best that we can to carry on!”

The music picked up, and Jesse shot Rose a look.

“This is a deceptively fast song.” He said.

“It sneaks up on ya.” Rose chuckled.

The barracks devolved into chaos once again, the clones all screaming along to the lyrics, even the ones who didn’t know the words picked it up quickly, encouraged by their brothers.

Despite the distractions, they finally finished cleaning the barracks, and Rose plucked the radio from where he’d stashed it, leading the way down the hallway towards the refreshers. The 501st were especially rowdy in the quiet halls – most of the barracks were empty, the clones who weren’t being punished for loth-cat related shenanigans were taking advantage of the shore leave.

When they opened the door to the shower block, they encountered a few members of the 212th already in there, cleaning up.

“Pack it in, lads.” Rose announced. “We’re taking over for you.”

“What? Why?” Boil asked, leaning on a mop and raising an eyebrow. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Yes.” Hardcase replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“All of you?” Waxer poked his head out from inside one of the refresher stalls, Crys and Wooley pausing from where they were wiping down countertops.

“Yeah, it’s Hardcase’s fault. As usual.” Jesse said, strolling over to Boil and plucking the mop from his hands. “We’re supposed to take over your shifts.”

“Good, I was hoping to get to 79’s tonight before last call. I hear they’ve got purple spotchka.” Boil said excitedly, glancing at Waxer over his shoulder.

“We can help you finish.” Waxer said, immediately raining on his brother’s parade. “There isn’t much left to do anyway.”

“You sure?” Rose asked. “It’s technically a punishment -.”

“Nah, it’s fine, there really isn’t much left, aside from the toilets.” He grinned. “But you boys can handle those.”

“Fair enough.” Rose chuckled, nodding over his shoulder to his men. Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase were in a heated four-way battle of rock, flimsi, cutters in order to determine who had to clean the toilets first.

“What’s that?” One trooper Rose didn’t recognize asked, pointing to his hand.

“It’s a radio!” Rose said cheerfully. “I’m err… technically not supposed to have it. But we’ve been listening to music while we worked.” He set it up on the countertop. “Do you have a favorite song…?”

“Spitter.” The 212th trooper supplied helpfully.

“Spitter.” Rose repeated, chuckling to himself and wondering how the hell he’d earned that name. “Do you have a favorite song?”

“I don’t know the name of it.” The trooper admitted shyly. “But – but it’s the one they play on the hits channel all the time. I hear it playing in the admiral’s quarters on the Negotiator all the time.”

“I know that one!” Waxer said excitedly, nodding to Rose. “It’s the one Commander Cody likes. You were playing it in the hangar a few weeks ago when our flight detail overlapped.”

“I remember.” Rose smiled, and turned the song on.

Immediately, every head, including Dogma’s, perked up at the familiar tune. Fives clapped his hands together, getting them started.

“When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.”

The younger trooper, Spitter, lit up and followed it up.

“When I go out, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

Waxer elbowed Boil, trying to get him to join in, but the other trooper shook his head and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes even as Waxer sang.

“If I get drunk, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.”

Their voices carried through the refresher’s tiled walls, and Jesse picked up where Waxer left off.

“And if I haver, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you.”

When the chorus rolled around, everyone joined in, their voices bouncing off the walls around them.

“But I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door.”

“When I’m working,” Kix began, offering a hand to Wooley and giving him a playful spin. “Yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you.”

“And when the money comes in for the work I do, I’ll pass almost every penny on to you.” Wooley laughed, shoving Kix away with a grin.

“When I come home,” Tup piped up quickly, before someone else could. “Oh, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you.”

“And if I grow old,” Crys smirked, shaking his shoulders at Fives, who punched him playfully in the arms and joined in, singing the line in unison. “Well, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you.”

The chorus returned, and they sang with even more feeling than before, dancing and tossing their heads back, shouting along to the words and nearly drowning out the music itself as they sang.

As the final verse approached, Waxer sidled up next to Boil, giving him a hopeful look. His brother sighed, scrubbing a hand bitterly over his face and reluctantly joined in.

“When I’m lonely, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you.” He sang.

“And when I’m dreaming,” Echo called. “Well I know I’m gonna dream, I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you.”

“And when I go out, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.” Fives followed.

“And when I come home, yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you.” Denal said.

Tup took a deep breath, preparing to finish off the verse, but he was cut off.

“I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home,” Dogma’s voice was shaky as all eyes turned to him, and he finished in a squeak. “With you.”

The room erupted in cheers, Fives catching Dogma under his arm and giving him a noogie as the chorus rang out once again, everyone shouting along to the lyrics together.

When the song ended, and the cleanup was done, the 212th parted ways with the 501st, the brothers patting one another on the back and jeering affectionately at one another now that the song and dance was done.

“If you finish with everything before final call, catch up with us at 79’s.” Boil called over his shoulder. “We can give the vode there a run for their money with our rendition of that song.”

“Count on it.” Rose chuckled, giving the other company a little salute before leading his men on towards the canteen.

The canteen, blessedly, was empty, and most of it was already clean. All they really had to do was wipe everything down, mop, and then make sure the kitchen was well-prepped for the next day.

“I didn’t know you had it in ya, Dogma.” Echo said affectionately, knocking his younger vod playfully in the shoulder as they walked.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Dogma muttered, his ears burning as he pushed into the canteen, grabbing the cleaning supplies from the nearby supply closet.

“Who’s turn was it for a solo?” Fives asked, watching as Rose started to set up the radio above one of the food windows so it could project into the entire cafeteria.

“I think Dogma should go.” Kix grinned. “Now that we know he’s got some pipes.”

“Absolutely not.” Dogma said immediately, not looking up from where he was wiping down tables.

“I can go first?” Tup offered, raising his hand sheepishly. Dogma shot him another stern look, but Tup was already wandering over to the radio, moving the dial and tentatively pressing play.

Upbeat music filled the canteen, and the other troopers cheered as Fives ushered Tup over to the nearest table, boosting him up on top of it and then thrusting a mop into his hands. Hardcase was already fumbling with the helmet again, trying to get a recording as Tup tapped his foot along with the beat, nodding his head as he found his rhythm.

“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say. I come home in the morning, I go to bed feeling the same way.”

Fives was leading other troopers in pounding the surrounding tables in time with the drumbeats while Echo was leading another group to clap in time.

“I ain’t nothing but tired! Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself.” Tup flashed the camera a grin, reaching up and pulling his hair tie out, shaking his wild curls loose around his head. “Hey there baby, I could use just a little help.”

Jesse whistled, and Dogma had stopped cleaning and was watching his brother, the slightest smile pulling at his lips.

“You can’t start a fire, can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

Tup shook his hair out of his eyes, tossing his head back and jerking his hips.

“Messages keep getting clearer, radio’s on and I’m moving ‘round my place. I check my look in the mirror, wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!”

He swayed his hips again, and Hardcase shoved the camera at Kix instead so he could join in the clapping.

“Man, I ain’t getting nowhere, I’m just living in a dump like this. There’s something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is.”

He hopped off the table, instead taking Dogma’s hand and dragging him towards the makeshift stage.

“You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

He pushed the mop into Dogma’s hands instead, beaming at him as he scurried off the table, sprinting over to the radio and quickly changing the song.

Immediately, slow guitar started but quickly escalated into heavy drums and fast riffs. Dogma’s cheeks turned a darker shade, and he looked frantically to Tup, trying to climb back down off the stage.

“No, no, come on!” Fives shouted, trying to body block Dogma from getting down. “Come on, you got this!”

The lyrics began, and Dogma sang along, his mouth barely moving, voice almost imperceptible.

“Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken… and the violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?”

“Come on!” Tup called to him. “You LOVE this song! Let ‘em hear it!”

Dogma grit his teeth, his voice gaining strength. “But you see, it’s not me, it’s not my family, in your head, in your head they are fighting.”

He stomped his foot on the table, practically snarling out the words. “With their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns, in your head, in your head they are crying.”

He threw his head back, and for not the first time that night, the radio was drowned out by cheers.

“In your head! In your head! Zombie, Zombie, Zombie. What’s in your head? In your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie!”

Dogma climbed off the table quickly, his ears and cheeks burning but a small smile was on his face, even as he was smothered by Hardcase, Fives, Tup, and Echo swarming him with hugs and rubbing his head affectionately.

Jesse climbed up onto the table next, picking up the discarded mop and clearing his throat.

“I would just like to dedicate this song to the gorgeous woman I picked up at 79s last week.” He drawled, nodding once to Kix, who was hovering knowingly by the radio. He nodded once to the helmet, which was now stationed on a nearby table, still recording. “Darling, you had the best pair of tits I have ever seen in my entire life, and you had the mouth of an angel and the coochie of a devil.”

Fives whistled, and Coric snickered. Rose rolled his eyes.

“So, babygirl, this one is for you.”

Kix turned on the radio, and Jesse grinned.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name.”

Guitar rang out through the mess hall, and Jesse bit his lip, rolling his hips as he leaned slightly off the edge of the table.

“An angel’s smile is what you sell, you promised me heaven then put me through hell. Chains of love got a hold on me, when passion’s a prison, you can’t break free.”

He dropped into a crouch, singing directly into the camera.

“Whoa, you’re a loaded gun, whoa, there’s nowhere to run, no one can save me, the damage is done!”

He jumped to his feet, the table shaking under him as he landed.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. You give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name!” He turned his back on the crowd, dropping low again and slowly rising, shaking his ass. “Yeah you give love…”

He looked over his shoulder, tossing the camera a wink. “…a bad name.”

The music changed abruptly, and for a moment Jesse looked pissed. “What the hell, ‘Case?”

But his expression shifted as Hardcase rushed to the table, pushing his brother out of the way and taking the mop from him. The crowd cheered all over again as Jesse climbed down, brothers slapping him on the shoulders as Hardcase’s song started up.

“We finish strong, right vode?” He asked cheekily.

“We still have to finish cleaning!” Dogma called back.

Hardcase only smirked in response, and sang quickly to keep up with the lightning fast lyrics.

“Backstroking lover always hiding ‘neath the cover, can I talk to you, my daddy say. He said, you ain’t seen nothing ‘til you’re down on a muff and then you’re sure to be a-changin’ your ways.”

He cupped his codpiece, bucking his hips forward into his own hand.

“I met a cheerleader, was a real young bleeder, all the times I can reminisce. ‘Cos the best things of lovin’ with her sister and her cousin only started with a little kiss, like this!”

He swung his arms wide, shaking his ass in time with the music and stuck his tongue out, having the time of his life.

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

He walked backwards along the table, rolling his shoulders back as he moved.

“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”

The rest of the 501st joined in with him, repeating the chorus of “Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way!” over and over again, Hardcase taking over again as the next verse began.

“School girl sweetie was the sassy kinda classy, little skirt’s climbing way up her knees. There was three young ladies in the school gym locker when I noticed they was lookin’ at me.”

He ran his hands along his thigh, mimicking raising a skirt.

“I was a high school loser, never made it with a lady ‘til the boys told me something I missed. Then my next-door neighbor with a daughter had a favor so I gave her just a little kiss, like this!”

“Do you think he has any idea what he’s singing about?” Kix asked Rose, leaning back against the counter and chuckling.

He watched as Hardcase went back to grabbing his own crotch, dry-humping the air and hummed.

“I’d say most likely.”

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

Hardcase grinned, and to both Kix and Rose’s utter chagrin, Hardcase actually did dive off the makeshift stage and attempt to crowd surf.

“I’m not patching you up!” Kix shouted over the roar of the music. Rose chuckled, turning the volume nod down as the rest of the 501st shouted in protest.

“Alright, that’s enough for now.” The Lieutenant said, taking control once more. “We can listen to it quietly in the background, but we really do need to wrap up cleaning.”

“Why? Got a date tonight?” Jesse asked with a raised eyebrow. Rose punched him lightly in the arm, and they got back to work once again.

They worked in relative silence, the occasional voice humming or singing along to the music, but they remained productive right up until one of the final songs Rose had downloaded cut through the speaker. The piano wasn’t as rich-sounding as it was through a regular speaker, but even through the tinny cadence of the beat-up radio, every single trooper in the canteen bolted upright, eyebrows raised. Rose smiled knowingly, and turned up the volume once again.

Fives beamed, sitting down on top of one of the tables and laying back, one leg bent and the other stretched flat, a hand behind his head as he sang up at the ceiling.

“Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Jesse leaned back against the wall on the other side of the canteen, closing his eyes as he joined in.

“Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Echo kept mopping, but was grinning as he picked up the next line. “A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume.”

Kix grinned. “For a smile, they can share the night, it goes on, and on, and on, and on.”

The rest of the 501st joined in together, their voices carrying in perfect harmony.

“Strangers, waiting. Up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“Night!” Hardcase shouted, straining every muscle in his chest and neck as he struggled to reach the high note.

Tup picked up the next verse, climbing onto one of the tables and dragging Dogma up with him once again.

“Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants the thrill. Paying anything to roll the dice just one more time.”

Dogma smiled, nodding his head along to the music. “Some will win, some will lose.”

Tup threw his arm around his brother, and the two of them sang together. “Some were born to sing the blues!”

Rose’s voice carried from over by the radio. “Oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on, and on and on!”

“Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“NIGHT!” This time, it was Dogma, of all people, who rang out with the high note, and the explosion of shouts and cheers was deafening. They were screaming along to the lyrics, dancing and jumping and shouting and swaying in time with the song.

“Don’t stop believin’! Hold on to that feeling. Streetlight people! Don’t stop believin’, hold on-”

“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”

The booming voice was so powerful, it could be heard even over the shouts of all the clones. Echo was closest to the radio, and quickly shut it off as the song and dance stopped immediately, every clone scrambling to stand at attention.

The Jedi that filled the doorway was massive, an imposing shadow in the entrance to the canteen. He zeroed in on Tup and Dogma, who had been standing closest to the entrance, and stormed towards them.

“Who is your commanding officer?!”

“Me, sir.”

The Besalisk Jedi turned, spinning on Rose immediately. He stalked over to the Lieutenant, jabbing a meaty finger into his chest, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

“What is the meaning of this?” He snarled.

“Sir, we were assigned cleaning detail.” He explained. “We were just finishing up.”

The Jedi bared his teeth. “Doesn’t look like much cleaning was taking place to me.”

He surveyed the rest of the troopers, but turned his head back to Rose.

“What is your designation?”

“CT-7673.” Rose recited immediately, keeping his back ramrod straight at attention, even though the Jedi was deep in his personal space. He knew this man. General Krell had quite the reputation through the GAR, and Rose had no clue what he was doing outside of the Jedi Temple this late at night.

“Who is your commanding officer?”

“Captain Rex, sir.”

“Not a clone! Is there a malfunction in your design?!” The Jedi bellowed. A few feet behind him, Hardcase flinched at the sudden loud sound, but Rose held still. “Your general, CT-7673! Who is your Commanding Officer!?”

“General Skywalker, sir.” Rose said instead. The canteen was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

He turned his head, noticing the little radio on the table and picked it up, the device small in his massive hands, raising an eyebrow at Rose. “Contraband, disturbance of the peace, behavior unbecoming of an officer, insubordination.” He hissed. “That’s plenty of grounds for a court martial, Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” Fives spoke up, taking a step towards them. “Proper chain of command designates General Skywalker as the one to hand down a court martial order, sir.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with contempt. “With all due respect, sir, you do not command this battalion, and cannot order a court martial on the Lieutenant.”

“Fives.” Rose snapped, whipping his head around to face Fives. “Stand down. Now.”

The ARC Trooper shrank back, his hands curled into fists at his sides, and the General turned back to Rose.

“Be that as it may,” he began icily. “You can rest assured this breach of conduct will not go unreported.”

“Yes sir.” Rose replied stiffly.

General Krell pulled back at last, surveying the battalion. “I want this canteen spotless, and not a word out of you in the meantime!” He ordered. “And I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore.”

With one quick motion, he smashed the radio in his hands. Rose heard a soft, hurt sound somewhere behind him, but ignored it. He didn’t look away from the General.

“Dismissed.” Krell growled, turning and stalking towards the doors. “And as for you,” He turned, jabbing one large finger at Fives. “I’ll be mentioning you in my report as well. Pray our paths do not cross again, clone.”

And with those words, he left the canteen.

Rose relaxed, but only minimally so. The silence hung heavy over the 501st, and everyone quietly shuffled back to work.

Rose gripped the mop handle tightly as he worked, his knuckles turning white. His chest burned, a tight, constricting feeling wrapped around his insides. It was a feeling he’d never felt before – anger, sadness, humiliation, resignation – all rolled into one hateful ball, coiled in his gut.

“Finished with the kitchen, sir.” Came Tup’s small voice. He’d put his hair back up, the tight bun back to regulation standards. Dogma was standing stiff beside him, still not entirely relaxed yet. “And the um – the canteen area’s just about wrapped up as well.”

“Very good.” Rose said with a small nod. “I’ll report back to Captain Rex, let him know we’ve finished for the night.”

“Sorry about your radio, sir.” Hardcase murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, ‘Case.” Rose smiled, but his eyes were sad. “It was – it was old, anyway. Just a silly thing.”

Fives bristled, his jaw setting as he tossed the bucket he’d been holding back into the supply closet with far more force than necessary.

“We aren’t supposed to leave base for the rest of the night, right?” Denal asked, arms folded across his chest as they finished the last of the cleanup. “Guess we could play Sabacc or something back in the barracks?”

There were a few murmured agreements, and the 501st shuffled back towards the barracks. Rose was still thinking about the General, and had a bitter taste in his mouth. They hadn’t been doing anything wrong, really.

Was it such a crime to enjoy oneself? To simply exist?

Fives and Echo fell into step on either side of Rose, the ARC Troopers bracketing their Lieutenant. “I bet Echo and I could rebuild the radio.” Fives offered. “Might take a little bit, but even if we can’t, Kix is real good at bartering stuff down in the markets. Remember when he got us those HoloDisc movies for just a tube of bacta?”

“We could find another radio for you?” Echo suggested hopefully. “Or maybe,” he lowered his voice slightly. “Maybe Y/N could find you one?”

“Let it go.” Rose said, picking up the pace and pulling away from the ARC Troopers. They reentered the now far tidier barracks, and Rose gravitated back to his footlocker, starting to close it up and push it back under his bed. The metal clacked slightly against the edge of the bunk, and he paused, the tinny sound echoing in his ears.

He knocked the footlocker against the bunk again, listening to the little noise again.

Kark it. He was more than just a mindless flesh-droid. He was a person. A human being. And he liked music.

And he wasn’t about to let anybody take that away from him.

“I never got to do a song.” He announced, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips.

“You can’t be serious, sir.” Dogma said, shaking his head at him. “Haven’t we gotten in enough trouble?”

“I’m sure the General’s slithered back to the Temple by now, where he belongs.” Jesse replied, turning back to the Lieutenant. “We don’t have a radio anymore, sir.”

“We don’t need one.” Rose said, pulling his footlocker back out and propping up one leg on it. He tapped his foot against the metal, the rhythm settling, nodding his head along. He took a deep breath.

“Standing in the rain, with his head hung low. Couldn't get a ticket, it was a sold out show.”

Fives recognized the song, and started tapping his foot along, drumming his hands on an overturned weapons crate.

“Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene. Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream.” Rose climbed up onto the table. “He heard one guitar!”

Jesse slammed a bucket from earlier down against the supports of a bunk, the loud clang mimicking the strum of a guitar.

“Just blew him away. He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day, bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store. Didn’t know how to play it, but he knew for sure, that one guitar!”

Another clang, this time from Kix repeating Jesse’s motion, and Echo, Denal, Coric and Fives were all drumming on overturned buckets and crates.

“Felt good in his hands! Didn’t take long to understand, just one guitar, slung way down low, was a one way ticket, only one way to go.”

Tup and Hardcase had picked up a brush – typically used for scrubbing their blasters and armor down – and were knocking it against the durasteel wall. Dogma had rounded up the others, a look of sheer determination on his face as they clamored around the bunks and tables, smacking their fists in rhythm with anything they could get their hands on.

“So he started rockin', ain't never gonna stop. Gotta keep on rockin', someday gonna make it to the top!”

Rose stomped his feet, and the rest of the 501st joined him for the chorus.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero!”

“He took one guitar,” Rose sang, while the rest of the battalion echoed “juke box hero, stars in his eyes” around him. “Juke box hero, he’ll come alive tonight.”

The singing quieted down, listening for a moment to see if anyone was coming, and Rose grinned, starting again and pitching his voice low.

“In a town without a name, in a heavy downpour, thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door.”

The clones took position, preparing to resume their makeshift instruments as Rose picked up in volume.

“Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain. And that one guitar, made his whole life change! Now he needs to keep on rockin', he just can't stop! Gotta keep on rockin', that boy has got to stay on top!”

Once again, shouts rang out as his brothers joined him for the chorus, their voices louder and more determined than ever, refusing to be silenced.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. Yeah, juke box hero, stars in his eyes. With that one guitar, he'll come alive, come alive tonight.”

As they finished the song, Rose panted softly, glancing down at his commlink again. He decided he was going to go off base after all. He wanted to see you, and nobody, not his Captain’s orders, and definitely not some karking General like Krell, was going to stop him.

“Dismissed.” He said curtly, and took off out the door without another word.

SONGS USED (because they’re all bangers and you should listen to them):

The 501st (introduction): Hotel California Echo: Hooked on a Feeling Fives: Kickstart My Heart Kix: Sharp Dressed Man Jesse: You Give Love a Bad Name Coric and Denal: Come Sail Away Dogma: Zombie Tup: Dancing in the Dark Hardcase: Walk This Way The 212th and 501st: I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) The 501st (Canteen finale): Don’t Stop Believin’ Rose and the 501st: Juke Box Hero

TAG LIST (Aka everyone on the tag list for BAON): @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyacey @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @hockeyjedi13 @crazygirlwithasword @dar-manda-rjct @gotomarvelgal @baba-fett @whore4rex @bubblegumcat229 @generalcannoli @hellothere501stlover @in-the-crosshairs @vaderthepotater @for-the-love-of-clones @babyhowzer @imrealatedtothe501st @chewychewyque @bobafettuccini @baba-fett-writes @chromia7567 @coffeeandtodd @thedomesticatednerd @kirinpl @djarrex @a-c-lee @embarrassedauthornerd @kaorikoizumi @the-girl-of-rain-and-shadows @sammi9498 @theroguesully @salaminus

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libermachinae · 3 years

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Night Shift

Also on AO3! Summary: Prowl and Jetfire analyze leads on a Decepticon smuggling operation, working together late into the night trying to find the missing connections. A sleep deprived slip of the tongue leads Prowl to revisiting old choices. Word Count: 2146

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Prowl didn’t keep track of his chronometer this late in the night. Morning was inevitable, and he knew he could rely on a burst of messages from Orion to let him know when it had arrived. As such, he had no idea what hour it was when Jetfire broke through the productive silence.

“How did you come up with these predictions?” Jetfire asked. Worst of all, he was speaking with his mouth full, apparently too incensed by Prowl’s logic train to be bothered with common decency. “Every gun you’ve pulled in has been running on fumes; I’ve had to scrape the insides of the barrels just to figure out what they’re fueled on.”

The impressive thing about Jetfire was that even as a voice over the comms, he sounded like the biggest bot in the room. It wasn’t just that his voice was deep; Orion, who wasn’t that much taller than Prowl, had a voice you could feel through the floor panels. It was something about the way Jetfire talked, deliberate and straightforward, rarely stuttering even when caught off-guard. It was refreshing.

“I’ve outlined the logic process in my report. I won’t be repeating it,” Prowl said, scrolling back through his files.

“What are they teaching in the enforcer academy that reports don’t need to communicate anything?” Jetfire grumbled

It would be a reasonable estimate to say they spent 50% of these near nightly calls complaining about their targets, their coworkers, and the administration, and another 40% about each other. Prowl sat through them strictly as a matter of convenience, being a faster mode of communication than the intermittent data bursts preferred by the sanctioned enforcer agencies.

Having someone at the other end of the line also assisted the rust sticks and nucleon microcubes in staving off recharge protocols.

“It’s as I explained to Tumbler: it communicates everything I intended it to.” Ideally, very little to anyone who couldn’t have worked it out themselves. That way, the important information stayed with those who could actually use it, and the rest—

“Who’s Tumbler?”

Prowl lost his train of thought as the rest of his processor caught up to what the .5% he reserved for conversation had said. He froze, rust stick halfway to his mouth.

“No one,” he said.

“Okay.” Jetfire drew out the word. “Did he buy that line?”

No, of course not. Tumbler was always relentless about that sort of thing. His curiosity and drive could have lent to the makings of a detective or captain if he’d dedicated them more often to investigations and less on critiquing Prowl.

“He was young and failed to grasp the necessity of efficiency in our line of work.” Prowl had tried to be patient, but he’d been young too, and Tumbler was the first partner he’d had who would listen to him. Even if it was just to argue that Prowl’s opaque writing was the cause of their inefficiency.

“Hmph.”

Jetfire liked to intersperse their conversations with meaningless noises, and although Prowl needed more samples before he was certain of his explanation, he believed they meant Jetfire didn’t agree with something he’d said but was ending the discussion prematurely. It was illogical, leaving a matter unsettled for which a solution existed, but normally Prowl’s priority queues were ordered such that work came before ideological disagreements.

“What?” he asked, finally setting down the rust stick.

“You’re normally terrible with names,” Jetfire said without hesitation. “I’m just trying to imagine what a bot would have to be like to leave that much of an impression on you.”

“He was talented,” Prowl admitted.

“Do you keep in touch?”

“No.” Prowl straightened his back and flared his sensory panels, ready to move on. “It was not a practical partnership. Being together diminished our respective abilities and prevented us from fulfilling our responsibilities. It was for the betterment—”

“Hey, hold on, Prowl,” Jetfire said, his rolling voice enough to draw Prowl up short. “I know that you—but, you know what that sounds like, right?”

Prowl frowned, immediately recognizing Jetfire’s social theory tone.

“Pragmatism,” he said. “We can’t have everything we want in an ordered society. I—we did what Cybertron needed of us.”

“By disposing of a part of yourself?”

Tumbler hadn’t liked that explanation either.

“We weren’t conjunx.” And for very good reason. There were more important things in life than feelings or fleeting commitments, and it was idealists like Jetfire who—

“Just because it didn’t have a name doesn’t mean it wasn’t important.”

Prowl’s thoughts stumbled. He hadn’t expected Jetfire to say that, not because it was out of character but because he was right. That was the exact sentiment Prowl had tried to put to words maybe half a dozen times and now it was being turned on him like a spotlight.

“There are things that should never be sacrificed,” Jetfire went on. Prowl felt his silhouette thrown into sharp relief. “Things we’re worse off for letting go of.” He paused. “A while ago, I was made an offer: instant entry to the academies. No exams, no fees. Everything I’d ever wanted. In return, though, I would’ve had to give up my wings. My… sponsor, I guess, knew I had the processor for science, just not the frame. They asked for me to give up one part of myself to let the rest go free.”

Prowl shook his helm, leaning away from the speaker. Jetfire’s tone was the same one he occasionally used with Bumblebee. With Prowl, he was hard edges and warning lights. They weren’t this for each other. They didn’t do this.

“You were nearly the victim of a scam,” he said, searching blindly for familiar ground.

“I’m sure it seems that way,” Jetfire said, unperturbed. “Do you get it, though? Giving up any one piece would’ve meant tacit agreement with the Functionists, that I wasn’t fit to do my work in any form but what they prescribed. Even if I’d told myself it was for Cybertron, it really would’ve been a sacrifice in their honor, and nothing would ever be worth that.”

Prowl wasn’t entirely obtuse. He understood what Jetfire was saying, but he couldn’t afford to hear it, not with everything he had already done and the plans he had yet to set in motion. Maybe Jetfire had found a way to live that allowed him to maintain his idealistic commitments, but most mechanisms weren’t so lucky. Everyone had to give up something.

“And now you’re here, working on behalf of the Senate,” Prowl said, just to prove that point.

Jetfire made his noise again.

“Right, I forgot,” he said. Annoyed or frustrated: the usual feelings they brought out in each other. “Waste of time. Forget I said anything.”

Prowl wouldn’t, but he also wasn’t going to give Jetfire an excuse to keep pontificating.

It would have been a waste of their time, anyhow, because however sincere Jetfire was in his admission, Prowl had never understood the hypocrisy of bots who would claim to reject Functionism while maintaining an almost fanatical devotion to their frames. In some intangible sense, maybe he did enjoy the opportunity to go for a long drive, but he couldn’t imagine himself grieving his tires for their own sake. He tried to compare it to what he had felt when Tumbler had said going to Kaon was a selfish, pretentious idea and immediately recoiled.

“Results are exactly what I told you,” Jetfire said. Prowl realized he hadn’t gotten any work done in the last several kliks. “Not nearly the concentration of materials to support your theory the Decepticons have contacts in Uraya, and a few that will probably trace back to Kaon, like everything else.”

“I’d like to see for myself,” Prowl said, standing. He didn’t often get this badly distracted, and it was easy to pin it on the state of his desk: used energon cubes and wrappers from the cheap snacks he kept fueled on littered the spaces he should have been using for case notes and displays. When was the last time he’d cleaned?

“Really?” Jetfire asked. “The data’s pretty clear.”

“Humor me.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Neither said goodbye before they hung up: another of their customs.

Prowl cleared the mess into the trash. Exhaustion was nibbling at his processor like a corrosive. Another couple shots would get him through his morning meetings, and then a regular midday fueling would carry him over until he could recharge properly in the evening. Before that, though, the day had to begin, an event he discovered was closer than he’d expected when he stepped outside and saw the horizon just tilting toward the pale blue of an oncoming dawn.

The air was gentle, the pleasant cool that foreshadowed a blistering day. Jetfire was a dot over the Rodion skyline. Prowl glanced up at the few stars that could punch through the light pollution and was reminded, suddenly, of the time he and Tumbler had discussed getting a little patch of metal out on the Tungsten Moors. The barren sparkfields had felt nonetheless fertile with possibilities, and they had gotten hung up on whether it would be more practical to live in a house with two stories or just one. It had been a fantasy, nothing more; even on their joint income, it would have taken millions of years to save up. But there had been something, if not fulfilling, thrilling about it, making plans that didn’t hinge on work or promotions.

He wondered if Tumbler remembered that conversation.

Jetfire’s slow approach gave Prowl time to dwell while keeping an idle optic on his teammate. There was nothing spectacular about Jetfire’s flying: Prowl had worked with and chased down fliers who were faster, more maneuverable, and flashier in every way. But there was something resolute and sure about the way Jetfire coasted, a steadiness that Prowl would have appreciated sooner if he’d noticed it, his thoughts of Tumbler and past mistakes and pointless sacrifice sliding away as he watched Jetfire’s flight.

Jetfire’s flying was beautiful, in its own way. Its understatement reminded Prowl of his own assembly line colors, but with an underlying confidence that left Prowl feeling inadequate. Though technically strong, his power was limited to what he could siphon off Orion and their other high-level contacts. He’d experienced a taste of the real thing under Sentinel, but that had been an especially tenuous connection, liable to snap had he ever tugged too hard. Jetfire’s power was all his own. Not overwhelming, not enough to make the changes Cybertron needed. Incomparable, really, to what Prowl had wielded. But it radiated from the tips of his wings to the burn of his thrusters, self-realized, without reservation or concession.

Prowl’s tac net pinged him with the results for a problem he hadn’t realized he’d plugged in: 50% Prowl should have been strong enough to find another way, 50% choosing Tumbler would have made him stronger.

A perfect 50-50 meant his systems were badly in need of defrag. He cleared the cache and set his tac net to reboot, shaking his helm to dispel the resulting vertigo as Jetfire landed on the steps below him. Prowl waited patiently for him to complete his mode switch, taking two steps back so they would be at optic level with each other.

“Pleasant flight?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t trade it for anything,” Jetfire said with a smugness that allowed Prowl to scoff as he motioned for the datapad.

Jetfire handed it over. Prowl knew he was being watched as he powered it on and reviewed its contents, but he took his time, using Jetfire’s results to run through a few warm up calculations as his tac net came back online.

“You didn’t check for copper fluoride,” he commented.

“No,” Jetfire said slowly, “because it wasn’t one of the compounds we were investigating.”

“Run the tests again.” Prowl tried to return the datapad, but Jetfire refused to take it. “The chances we would find evidence of materials native to the Urayan region were always slim to none. However, the old blackmarket pipeline between Kaon and Yuss ran directly underneath the city. Does that make more sense?”

Prowl saw the moment Jetfire finally saw the case as he did, a knotted web of deceptions meant to dissuade even the most seasoned detective from untangling its core. Jetfire took the datapad from Prowl and stowed it, though the hard look in his optics did not waver.

“Could’ve said that from the beginning,” Jetfire griped.

Prowl didn’t bother to respond. What was done was done. Talking so much about the past was a waste of time neither of them could afford, because for all that it might have mattered, nothing they said could change any of it. All they had was the future, and the possibility of starting each day stronger than they had the one before.

#finally remembered to upload!#maccadam #transformers #prowl #jetfire #my writing #oneshot

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twicearoundthesun · 3 years

Text

Spies au. Previously.

[Now]

“Dahyun.” A woman’s steely voice pierced the night.

Tzuyu jumped halfway out of her skin; she noticed Dahyun had, too. She immediately found the source: two of the most intimidating-looking women she’d ever seen stood just inside the chain-link gate closing off the alley. The one who’d called out was tan and short, with short brunette hair and a scowl on her face so potent she thought it dropped a few degrees - which really didn’t match the cheery Christmas cactus print on her pajama pants. The other was tall, almost her own height, with bleach-blonde hair and dark roots and a sweatshirt that read ‘my cat’s a rockstar and I’m the manager’. The contrast between their cold glares and goofy pajamas was off-putting. Tzuyu was still scared.

“Oh, uh, Hi, Unnie – ” Dahyun sounded nervous.

“Where the hell were you?” the blonde spoke up.

“I – Uh, I went back to get the girl from the café. She doesn’t know about anything, I was right, Jeong, she isn’t in on it, and—”

The two women seemed equally as pissed off and incredulous at that.

“You went to the café, where you knew there was going to be violence, where we specifically told you not to go to tonight, to save a member of a criminal ring you don’t even know, which we told you not to do –”

It took a minute for Tzuyu to realize they were talking about her. A criminal ring? No, if she was involved in a ring of wealthy criminals she’d at least spare herself the decency to live somewhere nicer than her one-room rat trap.

“What the hell are you talking about!? I’m a barista—”

“See? I swear, Jihyo, she doesn’t know.” Dahyun was stumbling over her words, now. Tzuyu wondered if they really did have something to fear in these two women, though the familiarization with which they spoke suggested otherwise. “She was hiding behind a toilet when I showed up. She had no clue who the men were or what to do. I couldn’t leave her to get hurt. She makes the best mocha in town-”

“Dahyun. We talked about this.” The woman named Jihyo didn’t seem like she was in much of a listening mood. Tzuyu felt bad for Dahyun, but didn’t dare speak up. “You could have gotten killed. We don’t run off alone, we don’t operate like that.”

Dahyun frowned. “I wasn’t going to let an innocent person get hurt just because nobody believed me! That’s – that’s completely what we do, we save people who need help! She had no clue what was happening, I swear. I bet she doesn’t even know the café’s just a front-”

“What?” Tzuyu was dizzy. This was all too much. Between being so close to violence, the mile-long sprint for her life, and listening to these scary women talk about how clueless she was, she was going to lose it.

“She could be lying, Dahyun-ah.” The blonde tried. She sounded tired. “They’re experienced criminals, they’re good at lying-”

“I’m not lying! I’m not a criminal!” Tzuyu cut in. She didn’t want to think about what these women would do if they thought she was the enemy. Confused and frustrated tears burned behind her eyes. “I don’t even know what’s going on!”

“And what, were you just going to bring her into the complex, Dahyun?” The brunette ignored her, charging through her interrogation. “While we were all asleep, without anyone knowing? What if she was dangerous? She could have hurt you, and we’d never know. She could have come after us in our sleep. You endangered the entire team, Dahyun.”

This actually seemed to resonate with the younger girl, and she was struck silent. Tzuyu caught her sideways glance as her mouth opened and closed, trying to come up with something to say.

“I-I’m sorry.” Is all she managed, before looking down at her feet. “I don’t think she’s dangerous. I just. I didn’t want her to get hurt. She seems so… nice.”

It was silent for a few seconds. The blonde sighed. “Go to bed, Dahyun.”

“She-”

“Go inside. We’ll handle it.”

Dahyun nodded a little. Tzuyu felt a rush of anxiety.

“Whoa-Wait-” She met eyes with her. “I don’t-”

“They won’t hurt you.” Dahyun gave her a small smile. “They’re good people. They’re, uh, they’re my family.”

“Inside.” The blonde said, but softer this time. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

And Dahyun disappeared down the alley.

Tzuyu swallowed, making eye contact with the blonde. The brunette was still too scary.

“She’s right, we aren’t going to hurt you. But we can’t let you go home, now that you know where we are. Not until we’re sure you’re not working with anyone who wants to hurt us.”

“I’m not – I won’t, I swear –”

“Just come with us. We’ll have our friend ask you a few questions and you’ll be on your way.”

Tzuyu glanced quickly at the brunette, who hadn’t stopped staring, and then back to the friendlier one.

“Who?” She whispered, terrified she’d be trapped in a room with the one Dahyun had called Jihyo.

“Just another one of the people on our team.” She took Tzuyu by the arm, gently but firmly guiding her inside. “Mina. And her lie detector machine.”

#spies au #oooooooooo #Mina #Tzuyu #Jihyo #Jeong #Dahyun #jeongyeon #baby smc update will come next i promise #spies au main

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

I don't give a damn

Steve x f!reader

Summary: Sometimes Steve's forgets how times have changed. You're there to sing him a song about it.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kisses, themes of sexism, i guess spoilers for Annie Get Your Gun (although that's from the 50s so I don't really think it needs much warning lol)

Word Count: 3020

a/n: another karaoke fic (because I wasn't kidding when I said I love them). Most of the songs I've been listening to have come from a playlist aptly titled ffs. It stands for both "for fucks sake" and "feminist fight songs" in my mind, hence the similar theme of this fic and My Name Isn't. This one was inspired by Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation"!

Masterlist

You and Steve don't see eye to eye on most things. It's not that you don't get along. You respect each other too much to fight about everything, but you have differing opinions on most things.

Take movie night for example. Cap always wants to watch something from his list. He's always trying to pick a "classic".

Most of the time, you would rather watch something you haven't seen. Unless it's a comfort thing, you don't really like repeating movies.

You both understand the other's perspective, so rather than a screaming match you typically settle it with a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Unfortunately, that's how most of your interactions go.

Outside of missions and team building nights Tony forces upon the group, you don't spend much time with him. The two of you are just polar opposites.

The problem with that? You have a massive crush on Mr. America himself.

Not that anyone else would know that. You're highly trained in the art of covert operations. You know how to hide your feelings, although you are certain Natasha at least suspects something.

You've resigned yourself to taking this secret to your grave, that is until Cap says something one movie night that sets you on edge.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!" You held out your fist, having chosen rock.

Steve smirks, covering your fist with his open palm. "Paper beats rock, time for another 'classic'." He squeezes your hand before letting go. He picks up his book, trailing the pencil down the page for the next movie.

The high you were currently riding from his touch quickly dissipated when he announced the movie he wanted to watch.

"Annie Get Your Gun is next on the list." He smiled, closing the book before returning it to his pocket.

You couldn't help but scoff, "who suggested that one?" Annoyed at the sexist themes of the 50s musical movie.

"Someone said to watch all of the best pictures/musicals from the Academy Awards to see how times have changed." Steve scrunched his face in thought. "I can't remember who though."

"What? Most of those movies are terrible if you ask me." You whined a bit, annoyed at the idea of watching your least favorite type of movies.

"Your just annoyed cause you lost rock, paper, scissors. Let the man cross it off his list and move on." Sam chimed in from across the room.

You huffed, making a face at Sam before turning to get more comfortable on the couch. "Fine, this one still sucks though." You frowned, nonplussed by the idea of watching another 'classic' with another sexist storyline.

Somehow, you sat through the musical without any interruptions, unless you counted aggressively rolling your eyes.

The second it was over, you were turning the TV off, excited to be done with it. You were three steps from the exit when Cap called out to you.

"I don't know why you hate that musical so much, Y/N. I thought it was sweet what Annie did for Frank."

You narrowed your eyes as you turned back to him. "Would you lose on purpose to 'get the girl'?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the phrase. "Would any of you?" You looked at all the men in the room.

"I don't think it'd be very fair. Wouldn't want her to think she was better than me if she's not. Besides, it depends on the girl." He may have been going for a flirty tone, but you just grew angrier at Steve's response.

"Right, because why should you have to pretend to be worse to appease someone else?" Everyone in the room could see where you were going with this. Everyone, that is, but Steve.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it." Steve nodded along, glad the two of you were finally agreeing on something.

"The why'd you think it was sweet when Annie did it?" You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes even farther. "The whole musical Frank was too stubborn, his ego too big, to deal with the fact that Annie was better than him. 'You can't get a man with a gun'? Bullshit, you could always shoot him." You let out a dry laugh at your own joke, completely fed up with sexism in movies being written off as love.

Steve was taken aback at how everything had shifted. He thought he was finally in agreement with you on something, so he clung to it. "But she did it for love... her reputation, all the medals, they still showed how good she was." Halfway through speaking, he realized he was only making it worse, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"For fuck's sake, she shouldn't have to pretend to be any less of a badass sharpshooter than she is to find love." With another roll of your eyes, you went to leave, stopping again at the sound of Steve's voice.

"Maybe she was just scared she wouldn't find anyone with that reputation." He nearly smacked himself for that one, why couldn't he just shut up? He just didn't want you to be mad at him.

With one hand on the doorway, you looked over your shoulder. "That reputation? I'd rather have that reputation than a relationship where I have to feed his ego." With that, you walked to the elevators, beyond ready to call it a night.

"I'm an idiot." Steve sighed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees while sitting on Bucky's bed.

"Yep. You just kept digging." Bucky agreed easily, not sure where to start with the advice.

Steve shot him a glare as he began pacing back and forth. "I mean, she clearly didn't like the movie. Why did I even start the conversation? I should have just let her walk away. She already barely tolerates my presence as it is. We disagree about everything, even if we rarely fight over it. I should've just cut my losses and enjoyed the time we spent together, even if it was with everyone."

"Punk, you need to relax. Just go apologize, then maybe you'll actually go to sleep at some point tonight." Bucky shoved Steve out the door, slamming it shut before he could object.

Mumbling about what a jerk Bucky is, Steve made his way to your door. He hesitated, turned around, walked a few steps, turned around again, and eventually knocked.

You opened the door with a yawn, having been close to sleep when the noise startled you. "What d'ya need, Cap?"

He couldn't help but smile at your sleepy state, never having seen you this unguarded before. "Uh, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. You're entitled to your opinion, and there was no reason for me to fight you on it."

A look of annoyance briefly flashed across your face at the mention of the movie, but you relaxed given his apology. "I'm glad we can agree then. It's a terrible movie."

"Oh, no, I still like the movie." He had never wanted the ground to swallow him whole more than he did in that moment. Floundering for a way to undo what he just said, he started rambling. "I mean, you're right. It is kind of sexist, but that was just the time period you know? Like in the 40s, dames had to constantly worry about how their actions would affect their reputations." Up to that point, he had been staring at the floor, rapidly spewing more words. "I mean, you wouldn't want a bad reputation, right?" He chose the wrong sentence to make eye contact.

The sleepy, slightly confused smile was gone, replaced by a look he had hoped to never have directed at him. You spoke with an eerie sort of calm when you replied. "I think you're a little stuck in the 40s, Cap. I shouldn't have to worry about my reputation anymore than any man does his. Goodnight."

For the second time that night, a door slammed in his face. Bucky was definitely wrong. He would not be getting any sleep after talking to you.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's karaoke night. Yes, I've rented a bar. No, you may not stay home. We start at 8!" Tony walked in, made his announcement, and instantly walked right back out.

Everyone nodded, taking in the brief encounter with Tony. Well, everyone but you and Steve. The two of you were too stuck in your heads to listen to Tony's ramblings.

It had been three days since movie night, and Steve still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to you again.

What could he even say to explain why he was so flustered? "Sorry for the other night, I can't seem to form coherent thoughts when I'm around you, because even though we rarely talk outside of missions, I have a massive crush on you"? No, that was definitely coming on too strong.

He just needed to find the right words.

Meanwhile, you were confused. You never would have imagined Steve to be so stuck in the past. Of course, you understood things were different before he got stuck in the ice, but he's really made leaps and bounds in his understanding of feminism and equality since he first realized what year it was.

You wanted to ask him where the whole speech came from, but you were afraid of the answer.

"I guess that means it's time to get ready since it's already 6:30! I swear, he never gives us enough notice for these things." Wanda smiled at Vision, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, before grabbing you and Nat to go change.

"What are we getting ready for?" You asked when Wanda finally let go of your arm, having entered the elevator.

"Karaoke! Didn't you her Tony?" She eyed you suspiciously, clearly debating whether or not to look into your mind.

"She was too stuck in her head to notice me throwing popcorn at her, she definitely didn't listen to Tony." Nat smirked at your startled expression, laughing when you reached up to brush the kernels out of your hair.

You glared at both of them, "I was just thinking about some stuff. That's all."

"Yeah, some stuff named Steve." Wanda cackled, having decided to peak into your head. It was for your own good after all.

"Wanda! You said you wouldn't read my mind unprovoked." You wanted to be angry, but part of you was relieved you wouldn't have to keep this secret anymore.

"It was provoked! You wouldn't tell me what you were thinking about." Wanda smiled, also knowing that you were happy to have shared the secret, even if not by choice.

"And don't try to change the subject. Steve, huh? Somebody's got a crush." She was taunting you like a child would on a playground, shaking her head back and forth for emphasis.

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I why I was thinking about him." They each gave you a pointed look, obviously not believing you. "Seriously! I was thinking about movie night." You frowned, upset at the memory.

You quickly filled them in on what Steve said when he came to talk to you as you made your way to Nat's room to get ready. (She has the biggest vanity, so it makes the most sense to go to her room).

"I can't picture Steve trying to defend himself like that. Normally if he's fallen back into his old ways, someone points it out and he apologizes." Nat made a face, trying to put two and two together. "Unless..." She looked at Wanda, gesturing for her to read her mind.

"Oh my god!" Wanda squealed, nearly knocking you over with her excitement. "Steve's got a crush, toooooo." She happily dragged it out, much to Nat's amusement.

"Please, the man barely talks to me as it is. Our most substantial conversation revolved around my 'bad reputation' or lack thereof." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the memory. "I seriously doubt he's got a crush. I do want to fix this though. I don't like when people are avoiding me. I get all stressed about accidentally running into them."

"He totally has a crush." Wanda smiled again.

"It's the only reason he would turn into a rambling idiot in front of you." Nat added.

"What song should I sing tonight?" You desperately tried to change the subject.

Wanda smirked, already having a perfect song in mind. "I think I've got one that could solve both your problems..." She filled you and Nat in on her plan, and although you doubted the crush aspect of it all, it was a good way to break the ice in terms of Steve avoiding you.

Hopefully it would show him you were more confused than upset, and everything would work out.

You changed quickly, embracing 80s fashion to go with your song choice. You wore black leather pants and a matching jacket, slipping on a tight red shirt underneath. Although, you still did your hair like you normally would, not fully committing to the 80s vibes.

With the addition of some red lipstick, a rarity for you, you were ready. Wanda and Nat finished their looks as well, and the three of you left for the bar.

You were honestly a little surprised when Steve walked up to you immediately after you walked into the bar. He handed you your favorite drink, smiling as he took in your ensemble.

"I wanted to apologize. I didn't mean all that stuff I said, just sometimes I forget how much things have changed and I-" You cut him off, not wanting him to suffer (or ramble) too much.

"Steve, it's fine. I was honestly more confused than anything else." He smiled, taking a sip from the drink he provided you.

"Really? You definitely looked angry when you slammed the door in my face." He outwardly cringed at bringing it up again.

"Okay, I was angry at first, but then I was mostly confused." You nodded, trying to convey that you weren't upset with him anymore.

"Good. I'm glad because avoiding you was getting pretty difficult." He wanted to smack himself again. Why does he always say the stupidest things around you?

To his relief, you laughed at his 'joke'. "Plus, this makes my song choice even more fun." You winked before walking back over to Wanda and Nat, leaving Steve to wonder about your performance.

"Y/N! You're up next." Tony called from his seat near the stage. He really liked to enforce his 'everyone must participate in team building, that's how it becomes team building' philosophy when it comes to karaoke night.

You couldn't help but smirk at Steve as he whipped his head around to witness you walking onto the stage. He's been eagerly awaiting your performance.

Everyone who knew the song started laughing at the first sounds of the guitar. The two super soldiers though? They were confused.

"I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Once you started singing, you couldn't take your eyes off of Steve. He was blushing at being called out, Bucky's hysterical laughter next to him not really helping the situation.

"Living in the past, it's a new generation."

Bucky nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Even Steve had a smile on his face. You bobbed your head to the music, relying on your previous drinks to really get into the performance.

"A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do. And I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation. Oh no, not me."

You put air quotes around bad, really playing it up since everyone was having so much fun with it. Tony, Nat, Wanda, and Sam were jumping around, dancing as you sang. Bucky was still trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard. Steve was full on grinning by the last chorus, slightly shaking his head at your antics.

"So, why should I care about a bad reputation, anyway?"

In typical Tony fashion, he saing along for the "oh no, not me" bit of the song, encouraging everyone to scream the words with him.

By the time the song was over, you were a little out of breath, sweating a bit from the lights.

"Now's your chance, punk. Go bring her another drink." Bucky shoved the glass in his hand and gave Steve a slight push in your direction as you walked off the small stage.

You hugged Nat and Wanda before making your way toward the bar. Steve intercepted you, handing you the freshly made drink.

You smiled, uttering a quick thanks before eagerly taking a sip. The cold liquid did wonders for your parched throat.

"That was quite the performance. Really called me out 'on my bullshit' as you would say." You couldn't help but laugh and tease him a bit more.

"Captain, language!" You placed your empty hand on his shoulder, sliding down to his chest with your next question. "Whatever will the world think of you?"

"Well, recently I've adopted a new motto." He whispered, leaning in closer so you could here. "I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Caught off guard by his use of the lyric, you laughed, leaning into your hand on his chest for support.

"Something we agree on then." Your breath caught in your throat when you realized just how close he was.

"I think there's one more thing we agree on..." He trailed off, eyes quickly glancing down at your lips.

"What might that be, Cap?" Your eyes drifted down his face as well, giving him enough courage to lean in.

His lips caught yours in a passionate kiss. He pulled you closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you moved in sync, as if you were made for each other.

You were so lost in each other, you paid no attention to the cheers from your teammates. You didn't even register Nat and Wanda screaming "I told you so" as Steve pulled you in for a second kiss.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america #marvel fic #marvel

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