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hqbaby · 20 days

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four — just a little

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

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word count. 1.8k content. profanity, alcohol consumption, a lil bit of tension???

booger: r u up?

It’s 4 AM and you should not, in fact, be up. But you are. And apparently so is Sukuna.

You contemplate ignoring him. You can get back to him in the morning and act all high and mighty like, “I’m a proper human being with a life, so no, I don’t stay up until 4 AM like you, loser.” It’s not like anything good has ever come from you replying to his late-night/early-morning texts. You recall another time you replied to him at this hour; the two of you ended up almost getting arrested after sneaking into a reservoir.

Alas, you’re still up and you’ve been rotting your brain on your phone for hours, so your better judgment has gone the way of your last few brain cells.

you: what do u want

You watch as he types something. “Damn, so hostile,” probably. He deletes it. Then, he types again. “Why are you up?” maybe. Deletes it. Then, “Wanna fuck?” before he remembers who you are. He types again and actually sends the message this time.

booger: be there in 5

Part of you wants to prank him. Go to sleep and let the poor guy pound on your door until one of your neighbors—probably the grumpy old lady who lives beside you—scolds him and threatens to call security. It’s a good prank. You go as far as thinking about it.

When gets there, he’s got his hood pulled over his head. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants, black sunglasses, and a serious expression on his face.

“Damn, you look so cool,” you say. He cracks a grin and you crack up. “What the fuck are you doing? You look ridiculous.”

His face falls into a frown as he steps into your apartment, closing the door behind him. You’ve already left him behind, crashing onto your couch as he changes his shoes into one of the slippers you keep for him by your door.

“You’re a real bitch, you know,” he says. He sheds the sunglasses and pulls his hood away. You’ve ruined the whole vibe he was going for. “Aren’t you gonna offer me a drink or something?”

You lift your head and point at the console table by the door. “There’s a bottle of Cuervo there,” you tell him. “Get it for me.”

He huffs but does as you say anyway. He picks the bottle up and walks over to you, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. “You’re a shitty host,” he says as he opens the bottle.

“You’re an intruder,” you say, snatching the bottle away from him before he takes a sip. You raise it to your lips to take a swig. “Why are you here?”

“Am I not allowed to see my girlfriend?”

You choke on the tequila. “What?” You cough as he laughs and pats your back. “Don’t say shit like that.”

He grabs the bottle from you and chugs a good amount. “I love teasing you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “It’s so easy.”

You slap his hand away and sit up. “I hate you.”

He just grins and passes you the bottle. “You love me,” he chirps. “Wouldn’t put up with me otherwise.”

“Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s saying I’m incapable of love.”

You don’t know why you say that. It’s not part of the script, the usual back and forth between the two of you. For a moment, you worry that you’ve said something wrong.

“Who says that?” He looks serious now. Like he’s about to beat someone up. You know, the usual. What were you even worried about? “You got a gun for me to use on them?”

You laugh at his dour expression. It’s true, of course, that people have been spreading this new rumor that you’re a cold, ruthless bitch who doesn’t have room in her heart for someone, let alone a boyfriend. It’s why you broke up with Satoru apparently. You know it’s stupid and people don’t really know what they’re talking about, that they’re bored and just making shit up, but for some reason, you can’t shake the thought.

What if they’re right?

You put the Cuervo on the floor beside Sukuna and hug a throw pillow to your chest. “I had a dream.”

“Is this where you break into song?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

He doesn’t take the challenge lightly, immediately hopping onto the couch beside you and dropping his head onto your lap to stare up at you. He bats his lashes at you and says, “What did you dream about?”

You place your hand on his face. Then, you feel something wet on your palm.

His fucking tongue.

“You’re so gross,” you whine, wiping your hand on his hoodie. “What do girls even see in you?”

He smirks. You’ve just given him an opportunity and you wholly regret it now. “It’s not so much what they see, but how big it is,” he says, amused by the disgusted face you make. He pokes your cheek with his finger now. “Tell me about your dream.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

He pouts, his lower lip jutting out as he looks at you with big eyes, practically getting teary-eyed now. He’s a great actor, you’ll give him that. He’d probably get better grades if he was a theater major.

“I wanna know,” he says softly. “Tell me.”

There’s something about the way he looks at you that feels unnervingly familiar. You’re used to his antics, you’ve had to deal with them since the two of you were in high school, but it’s moments like this that you remember just how much you know each other. It’s a constant thing, always lurking beneath your banter and jokes—it just surprises you when it’s in your face.

You place your hand on his shoulder and sigh. “It’s stupid,” you say. “I just keep having these dreams where I’m running from something. Different things every time. Zombies, ghosts, clowns—”

“You run away from clowns?”

“Clowns with murderous intentions.”

“Okay. Valid.”

You shake your head, smiling now as the teasing reminds you of who you’re talking to. It’s just Sukuna.

“Anyway,” you say as you stare off into your empty living room. “I just… run. And I get to a point where I feel safe until I realize that I’ve actually been cornered. I wake up before anything happens.”

When you look at him again, his brows are furrowed, already in deep thought. He considers your dream carefully. You wonder if he’ll crack another joke, change the tone of the conversation, but of course he doesn’t.

“What do you think it means?”

You squeeze the throw pillow beside you. “I don’t know,” you say. “I should probably ask Nobara. Psych majors know all about that shit, right?”

He nods. “Yeah, they got that Freud dude.”

“I’m not sure that Freud dude is necessarily accurate about dreams.”

“You never know until you try.”

The two of you are quiet for a moment. You can hear the air conditioner buzz, the fridge rumble. You’ve gotten used to these sounds of silence, what with you being more alone than you’ve been in a while. This time though, you can hear Sukuna’s breathing. Quiet, but steady, a reminder that you’re not completely alone this time.

“Is that why you’re still up?” he asks eventually. “You can’t sleep?”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not.” Earnest. Sincere. “I just wanted to know.”

You look at him skeptically, but he just stares up at you from his place on your lap, blinking in the light of your living room.

“I mean, it’s not just the dreams,” you tell him. “I’ve been feeling a little lonely, you know. Since… Satoru.”

He cringes at the name but schools his expression before it turns into a full on snarl. “Still don’t know what you saw in that guy.”

“He was good to me,” you say. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He must’ve if you broke up with him.”

You hesitate, but you find it in yourself to insist, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Sukuna stands up. “If you say so,” he says. He reaches his hand out in front of you. “Come on. You gotta sleep.”

You stare at his hand. “You don’t think you’re taking me to bed, do you?”

“I am taking you to bed.”

He stays there for a moment, watching you watch his hand, unmoving. “I’m not getting in bed with you. Chill, bro.”

A beat.

“It’s not that,” you say, taking his hand and letting him pull you up. “It’s just…”

He raises a brow. “What?”

Yeah. What?

“Nothing,” you whisper. This is stupid. “You can sleep beside me. It’s fine.”

It’s his turn to be taken aback. Suddenly, he thinks that your hand being in his feels terribly comfortable. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, pulling your hand away. You pad over to your bedroom, walking straight ahead without looking back. Pretending like you don’t care if he follows. “We’ve slept in the same bed before. It’s no big deal.”

But it is. Somehow, you feel like it is.

You’re already under your blanket when he follows you into the room. He stands at the foot of the bed a little awkwardly. Like a lost puppy.

“When was the last time you slept in the same bed as a girl you didn’t fuck?”

He’s sheepish now, stripped of all his usual brazen demeanor. “A long time.”

His hand reaches for the hem of his hoodie.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide. “This isn’t—”

“Relax,” he says, pulling the hoodie off his head. He’s wearing a t-shirt underneath. Plain red, one you’ve probably seen more times than you can count. “I just run warm is all.”

You feel your face heat up. What did you think he was doing?

Your best friend slides into bed beside you. This isn’t anything strange for the two of you. You used to sleep over at each other’s houses back when you were in high school and one of you wanted to avoid the chaos of your home. You’ve slept beside each other before. It was never a thing.

But it’s been a while since then. You’re no longer the kids you were, all playful and shameless.

It feels different this time. Somehow.

He’s keeping his distance and you can feel it. Your body is turned away from him, but you can feel his eyes on you. He wants to be closer to you.

You want to be closer to him too.

“You can—”

His chest hits your back as he rolls over to lie directly behind you. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly. You can feel his breath on your neck.

You swallow. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

You feel his hand carefully move around your waist. He doesn’t touch you, his arm hovering just above the thin fabric of your top. “Is this—”

“Yeah.”

He rests his arm on your waist and you feel yourself relax into his touch. He wasn’t lying when he said he runs hot, it feels like you’re melting against a furnace. Still, somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to mind.

If anything, you might just admit that you like it. Maybe. Just a little.

notes. soooo the besties are doing a thing 👀 how do we feel about reader and sukuna so far 👀 we also haven't seen much of gojo yet but next chapter is gonna be interesting ;)

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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evergreenfields · 1 month

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In Another Life

Hurt, no comfort, angst, I’m ready to break my own heart.

Your flatmate is dating Soap and he’s everything you want.

Pairing: Soap x your female flatmate, one sided female reader x Soap, Captain Price x reader.

CW: MDNI! low self esteem, character death (spoiler, not explicit), catcalling, voyeurism, masturbation, PIV sex.

A/n: I hella projected lol. Reader is broken.

——

Soap is dating your flatmate.

Most men that your flatmate brought home were wet wipes, but this guy was some kind of special forces. His eyes were electric blue and he had the thickest eyelashes, he went by Johnny but he also went by Soap, you never learned why. You had to mentally pinch yourself while staring at him, he was everything you wanted in a partner. You hated the creamy mess in your underwear when you were in his company.

He was muscled and shaped like an upside down triangle, you had to look away when he would pop out from their room in the night. Muttering “sorry ‘scuse me” as you squeeze past the narrow corridor, ignoring the rumble of his “no no, I’m taking up all the room, lass.”

You caught his thighs and bulge in his compression shorts when he left for a run in the morning. Later, your flatmate traipsed into the kitchen muttering “I can hardly walk after last night, let alone run!”

You laugh and slap her arm playfully as you leave the room. You’re an expert at that now. That’s not to say you were never happy for her, but your phone was currently not blowing up with your latest dating app matches.

——

On the off chance Soap arrived when you were coming out of the shower, he only ever looked at your eyes and quickly got out of your way. He only had eyes for your flatmate. You got to your room and stood in front of the mirror and wondered what your flatmate and other women had that you didn’t.

——

Soap was full of energy, ready for a laugh but very protective. You would listen from your room when he dropped her off late at night after a raucous night out on the town.

“Call me tomorrow, alright?” His voice is muffled.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Just call me when you wake up. You look like you need a lie in tomorrow. I’ll bring you breakfast.”

Tomorrow morning comes and Soap is early with a bag of food from a brunch spot nearby, he even brought you a coffee too. You thank him too much, maybe it wasn’t the coffee you were thanking him for.

——

Your flatmate and Soap came home late one night absolutely drunk out of their minds, they wobbled through the front door trying to dance to a song playing on his phone. They see you and it’s like they have heart eyes.

“Y/n, it’s y/n, THE GOAT!” Your roommate yells.

“The GOAT!” Soap hollers.

They both flop into the sofa either side of you. They’re too drunk to notice your teary eyes. You pushed the soggy tissue into your sleeve.

A dance tune starts up and before you can even recognise it, Soap bounces up with hands held out towards you both.

Your roommate grabs one hand.

You’re next.

You take Soap’s hand and you arc off the sofa, he’s strong.

You’re pressed up against his side. He’s hard, large and warm, you try not to enjoy the bodily contact as you all boogie to the song. You start to smile until you remember he isn’t yours.

——

“It’s only 2 days but I’m so excited,” she talks about her friend’s wedding in the south of France, “I’m wearing this dress” she flicks through her phone gallery “and Johnny is going to wear a kilt!” Muscled calves, big smile and rugged hands clasped at his front, Johnny looked like a million bucks.

“I love it, you’ll match!” You managed to squeeze out. You imagine the memories they’ll make and photos they’ll take. That night you have a 2nd date, you are excited by the fact he has asked you out again. It filled you with something resembling happiness.

You are meant to meet at a station out of town but you couldn’t find him at the small station and the path towards the car park was unlit and dodgy. When your date found you, he was annoyed that he had to pay for parking. He kept throwing red flags at you.

But still you slept with him because you wanted to feel touched and desired. You regretted it and then you had to take the train home later that night because he “had an early start to work tomorrow.” You wrapped your jacket around yourself to keep out some of the cold, trying not to be annoyed that he didn’t even attempt to make you orgasm or show any aftercare. You delete his number from your phone.

Later that weekend, the duo arrived home.

“We bought you back some chocolate!” Your flatmate says, Johnny swings his bag off his back, he passes it to you with 2 hands like it's a bar of gold. It could have been, with the way you looked at it.

“Aww guys you didn’t have to.” Your mouth is dry.

“Johnny found it, I didn’t know you were a sea salt and caramel fan!”

You put the chocolate in a drawer because you didn’t want to get used to tastes you couldn’t indulge in.

——

“He’s a prick, forget about him.” Your flatmate says pointedly about a new guy you were dating.

“Oi who’s a prick?” Soap walks into the kitchen, taking your flatmate’s waist in his hand.

“No one-” you turn away.

“A fuck boy that y/n isn’t seeing any more.” Your flat mate sounds proud by what wasn’t her decision.

“He isn’t a fuck boy.” You know you’ll regret clarifying the point, “we didn’t fuck, so he’s not. He’s just a prick.” You and the conversation. Soap whistles.

Later that night when you’re washing the dishes, Soap approaches you.

“Listen, forget about that guy,” he says low, you’d follow that voice anywhere.

“Thanks.” You squeak quietly.

“You will find what you're looking for, keep pushing and you’ll look back on this shite with a smile, maybe a misty eye, ey?” He bends forward to catch your eyes as you were trying to avoid them.

He smiles, you smile. He leaves, you remain.

The suds disappear and you turn off the tap, left in silence.

That night, they have muted sex, you hear their attempts at muffling moans and stifling strained grunts. You hear the bed frame squeak on the last hardest thrusts, then silence for a while. You imagine they feel warm, tingly and flushed, chests heaving. Eventually you hear footsteps come and go from the bathroom, the toilet flush going and the door shuts again. You wait for your heart rate to stabilise and your heart ache to subside.

——

“We’re going to the pub, wanna join us? Johnny’s friends are going to be there.” Your flatmate asks you.

You wonder if they’re as hot, funny and protective. You tell yourself you’re just going along for a chat, but part of you hopes it leads to something more; you put the hopeless in hopeless romantic. Put yourself out there, that’s what everyone says.

You wear a nice outfit that makes you feel pretty, your confidence isn’t abundant but you’re feeling yourself.

You arrive at the pub, you meet them, you chat, you drink, you leave.

Nothing about the evening was bad, his team were really nice, all huge and charming in their own ways. Their Captain was a greyhound with an intense gaze that seemed to follow you. Gaz’s girlfriend arrived and you thought you heard some rumblings about Ghost being pushed to date.

The Captain was receptive to you, leaning in to listen, you thought you saw him glance at your lips and legs. He helped you off the tall stool you were sitting on, taking you by your waist to help you down. You know not to push, men hated when women pushed. Well, they hated when you pushed. And you didn’t want to make anything awkward between you and your flatmate. So you left without asking for his phone number or a date, but he hugged you tightly and held your gaze for longer than you thought usual.

When all three of you got home, your flatmate shouted at the top of her lungs “you and the Captain huh?! Practically undressing each other with your eyes!” You laugh and immediately feel your ears going red. You were stoked that someone else noticed because you thought it was all in your head, as it usually was.

You didn’t notice Soap put a hand out to stop her.

“Babe. Babe-” he says “don’t go there.”

Your heart tightens. Your flatmate puts her hands on her hips, confused and a little offended as if to say ‘I know what I saw.’

“It ain’t like that, the Captain is… Price is… Look, he’s married to the job.” Brows knitted, the jovial spirit replaced with seriousness, “we don’t sit around and talk about it but he ain’t the type to mess around.”

You play it off “we were just talking, it’s not a big deal.”

It hurts when Soap says “good, because he’s a lifer.”

You close the door to your bedroom and mull Soap’s words in your tormented mind. The fuzziness you felt replaced by emptiness.

Part of you willed it to be wrong, that you were the woman to pull the Captain out of his self fulfilling and self imposed prophecy. You almost laughed at your audacity.

“I can’t even get a text back, why would he be interested?” You stare at the ceiling, the alcohol left your system and the room was uncomfortably still.

——

“You like tha’, lass?” you hear Soap rasp, you’re not sure if he’s taking her from behind or if he’s on top of her. The faint slaps, skin on skin, indicate it’s either doggy or the standing position your flatmate had once whispered about. The loud moans indicate it’s good.

You don’t breathe. You just listen.

“Oh god, Johnny please!” Your flatmate whines, the force of his thrusts evident in her stuttering voice.

You close your eyes and see yourself with Soap under you, knees folded under his bulging arms, hips pistoning into you with ferocious need. You argue with yourself but then you quickly surrender and slip your hand into your knickers. You draw tight circles on your clit while your eyes burn with tears unfallen. Undiluted shame and need fills you. You breathe sharply through your nose and then hold your breath, staying as quiet as possible. Both of your hearts raced, thumping against your ribs.

“Tha’s it,” you hear his muffled voice grunt. You imagine his massive hand grasping your breast, your hand follows. Their bed frame groans but yours is silent. Your flatmate’s voice gets higher in pitch and she comes loudly, he grunts, swears, the mattress squeaks. You push two fingers into yourself and quickly find your spongy spot, electricity rolls through you.

You come undone shakily and silently, tears springing immediately from your eyes as you ride the wave of your orgasm. Your hand clasps across your mouth as you try to stem the noise of your sobs. You feel disgusted and disgusting. You wipe your eyes with your sleeves. You check your phone, no text from him. You manage to fall into a restless sleep.

——

One night, you and your flatmate encountered an asshole at the station.

“Nice bit of skirt, that.” He leers at your flatmate.

“Fuck off, you prick!” You shout back without breaking stride, not caring he was bigger than you. This confidence was new to you. Or was it anger?

When you arrived at the music venue, your flatmate told Soap what happened, you couldn’t hear them as the music was loud and you were at the bar. You could see the look of concern and regret on his face. He stormed over to you and he pulled you into a bear hug.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” he says to your temple. He releases you but keeps his arm around your shoulder as you wait at the bar, his weight is comforting and protective. He then helps you carry the drinks over.

He adds “I’m sorry Gaz and Cap couldn’t make it, paperwork.” You’d heard that one before but this time you gave yourself the benefit of believing it.

During the gig was a slow acoustic song that hit a little too close to home so you snuck out to the toilet to wait it out.

But you could still hear the music as you leaned against the stall and picked at your nails, doing breathing exercises you’d read about, through your tears.

——

You began to feel like the only man in your life. You even treated yourself to a massage because the touch deprivation reached a fever pitch.

You scroll through the website trying to find an available masseuse. Their headshots were small but you were on the lookout for a man with a thick neck and prominent traps, you knew the silhouette you were looking for. Your masseuse didn’t have a Mohawk but he was close enough that when you closed your eyes, his hands, his pressure and weight became Johnny’s.

——

You were invited again to a party with the squad, moods were good but there were hints of them being away for an extended mission. While you heeded what Soap said about Price, you wanted to know it from the horse's mouth. You bantered with the Captain, and he bantered back, at first. It turned to flirting and you playfully slapped his bicep, joking that you could drink him under the table, knowing well enough that you couldn’t. You ignored the looks from Gaz and Ghost - it’s like they knew something you didn’t. And they did.

You found yourself outside with Price. He’d asked only you to come outside, you felt giddy at the prospect of him wanting to be alone with you. He was smoking a cigar, you stared at the lit end, hoping it revealed some kind of secret you could finally be privy to.

It was cold outside, bitterly cold.

“You’re a lovely girl, y/n, you’re smart, pretty, ballsy,” he says, almost to himself. You’re immediately familiar with the tone. What came next would hurt. Your breathing quickens and there’s a pit in your stomach.

“I’m not in a place where I can give you what you want, what you deserve, darlin’.”

The alcohol seemed to dissipate from your system. Rejection was one hell of a way to sober up. You look down at your shoes and chew your lip to stop it from trembling.

You knew better than to beg, to make compromises, to ask for a chance. Nothing would convince him. Maybe another woman could. But not me. So you turned to humour because it was safer than being vulnerable.

With wet eyes and a wobbly voice that you couldn’t hide, you say “so you think I’m pretty?”

He hits you with a look that you’ll never forget.

“In another life-“ he quietly began.

You cut him off, agreeing, “in another life.”

You both went indoors and you summoned a smile from the deepest recesses of your being. You left early that night.

——

It was with bated breath that you left your room ready for your date. You were in a beautiful outfit that did wonders for your confidence. You spun around a few times in the mirror.

Johnny was at the foot of the stairs and he looked at you with his big blue eyes, you’re sure you saw his pupils grow. Your phone buzzed but you ignored it because you enjoyed being under his gaze.

“Look at you! He’s a lucky lad!”

“Wait, let me see!” Your flatmate's voice came from the kitchen.

Your phone buzzed again. You pull it out to see a stream of texts from your date.

“Oh you look gorgeous, girl!” You barely hear your flatmate. Blood rushes to your ears.

You read out the text message.

“Sorry can’t make it, hungover lol.” You sound distant, as if it wasn’t related to you.

“Fucking prick.” Soap says with no hesitation.

“Y/n…. Babe.” Your flatmate pulls you into a hug but you’re limp and embarrassed.

“Fuck it, I’m going out anyway!” You exclaim, pretending to be okay you practically rush out of the door.

The door shuts behind you. You want to cry but you squeeze your eyes shut and start to walk towards the station. You don’t last long, your vision is wet and nose runny. You end up at a riverside cafe, watching the world go by without you. What a shitty year, you tell yourself.

——

You hear a hushed conversation a week before Soap is due to leave for a few weeks. You kept your headphones on and nodded at them when you walked past, giving them privacy.

You wish you could be in someone’s inner circle, but instead you were grateful you could float around theirs. You put a mental reminder in to take your flatmate to dinner while Soap was away and to keep her from watching the news.

——

“Turn it down!” You yell at your flatmate while you go to answer the door, the radio is on blast while you both cook.

Through the peephole you see the unmistakable beard of Captain Price.

“Oh John, hi!” You can’t hide that you’re happy to see him. But then you notice his grave expression.

“Hi love, sorry to come by unannounced,” he’s standing straighter and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is your flatmate around?”

“Yeh, come in.” Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to call out, your flatmate is already by the door.

“No,” she recognises the look.

“I’m so sorry, love.” Price says quietly.

“Oh god no!” She cries out and sobs, her entire body shakes.

You put your arms around her but your eyes are on Price, wet and unflinching, waiting for the confirmation of the news.

His blue eyes are overcast and tired, he nods and looks down.

“We’ll have to take you onto base if you wish to go through matters,” Price says quietly. You helped your flatmate get her coat on, understanding that you couldn’t go with her.

Price dropped her home later that night, you plated up some food for her but she couldn’t eat. You hugged each other on the sofa until one of you fell asleep first.

It felt like Soap would be bursting through the door with his infectious energy at any moment, but the silence was deafening.

——

You weren’t invited to the funeral as it was behind closed doors. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, you went from crying to intense panic attacks to bouts of guilt. You missed him, you missed his presence. You thought about the way his eyes would light up when you suggested shots at the pub, how he’d walked you both home and how safe you felt. Sure he wasn’t holding your hand but for a moment, you felt wanted, taken care of and significant. You felt terrible for mourning someone else’s partner so deeply and intimately.

Price came by a few times in the next few months, sometimes you were home, sometimes you weren’t. When your flatmate finally came out of her room, her eyes red and complexion weak, she would walk around the house like an apparition.

“I can’t do this without him!” She would plead, “I miss him so much.” You rubbed her back, silently wiping your tears, telling her you were sorry, over and over.

“John came by today, he sends his best.” She says.

“Bless him,” you say quietly, trying not to read too much into it, because all the meaning you longed for wouldn’t come.

“You never told me what happened with you both that night.” She asks, brows knitted in concern for you while her heart was shattered.

“Soap was right about him.” You said, “and that’s okay.” You breathed, hoping the more you said it the more you would believe it.

——

‘What cannot be said will be wept’ you read the quote over and over, you’d seen it online and it immediately brought Price into your mind.

His visits became less frequent, but he came by again to check in with your flatmate. He looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace and comfort him.

“Come in, she just got in the shower, want a tea while you wait?”

It had been 6 months since the news.

“How are you holding up?” Price asked.

“M’okay, trying to be there for her as best I can.”

“I know it isn’t easy for you either.” He said, “you’re doing good by her, you’re a good friend.”

Guilt and shame rushes through your system, you didn’t feel like a good friend.

“He was so good to her-” you start to sob, hands across your mouth, willing it to stay inside so you never have to confront how you really felt about him.

You’re surprised to be suddenly in his embrace. John consumes you, you’re completely surrounded by him. You grip his jacket, afraid to let go. His right hand rubbed your shoulder blades and his left hand held onto your waist tightly.

“I’m sorry love,” he whispered, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t good to you.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything John, you haven’t done anything wrong.” You sounded throaty.

“I made you believe in something I couldn’t give you.” His voice is quiet, you feel it against his chest.

“In another life,” you manage to sob his phrase back to him, he can feel you inhaling hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Another life.” He says back, kissing your head.

“Take care of yourself, John” you say with a ragged voice looking straight into his eyes. You grab your bag and push past him out of the door. You can still see his sad eyes in your mind.

Immediately you regret leaving while he was still available and present. But then you think if he wanted to say more he’d have done so. Life is choices, he made his choice. And I wasn’t one of them. Your legs take you away from him, into the bitter cold.

#cod fanfic #captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #john price x female reader #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #codfanfic

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mylovelies-docx · 8 months

Text

Sorry, I Love You - Part 12

I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for this.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst (!!!), murder, blood, guns, violence, death.

(I PROMISE EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY! You've just gotta trust me.)

Word Count: 2,724

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

He can’t take the silence any longer. You should have been home hours ago.

All his texts go unanswered and his calls go straight to voicemail. You’ve had late nights at the HYDRA base, but never this late – never an early morning kind of late.

He knows you’re capable. Knows that you’re one of the strongest people, the best agent, the best everything, but something doesn’t feel right. He can’t feel you. He knows that’s stupid – that he isn’t psychic or empathic or whatever he’d need to be to feel someone’s presence when they’re not in the room with him, but he’s always felt you.

He can feel you down in his bones, his body unable to forget your voice, your laugh, your smell, your body beside, on, under his own. There’s no one in this universe that he knows better, that knows him better, than anyone else.

Used to know. Until he fucked it up. Until he fucked everything up and drove you away. Drove you so far away that you weren’t even on the same continent for months, that you never picked up the phone and called him, that you didn’t send any silly texts at 2 am like you used to. He was too embarrassed and ashamed of his reaction to contact you first. He thought it’d be too impersonal to apologize over the phone and admit how scared he was when you confessed to loving him and how sorry he is for what he did afterwards.

That’s why he sent Steve and Sam to bring you home: so that he could see you again and explain himself to you and hopefully confess that, yes of course he loves you too. He was so nervous as he watched the quinjet approach, worried that you wouldn’t like his outfit, or the stubble on his jaw, or his new haircut that he got for you because he remembered how often you’d run your fingers through it and comment on how hot you thought shorter hair would look on him.

But then he cornered you in that hallway. Felt his heart break as you told him that you got over him, that you didn’t love him anymore and never did in any meaningful way. You assured him that you could be friends again if that’s what he wanted.

Of course that’s what he wanted. Of course he wanted to be friends. But he also wanted everything else – what you had before that night at the movies and what you could have had after. He wanted the date nights, and forehead kisses, and hand holding. He wanted the quick fucks, and makeout sessions, and love-making. He wanted all of it with you.

He still does.

But you don’t.

He will forever regret the words he said to you that drove you away and dissolved the love that you felt for him. He will never forgive himself for taking away your future together. And after that disastrous conversation with you about Petre, he feels like he’s gone right back to square one. He doesn’t know what to do with his emotions and can’t express himself properly to save his life.

He knows what you said, knows the meaning behind the individual words you spoke to him last night: that you and Petre are not together in any way. But Bucky knows that isn’t what Petre wants – knows that Petre wants you in a way that Bucky used to have you, that Bucky could have had you, and more. Because Bucky sees the way that Petre looks at you, the way his eyes follow you around the room as you say hello and chat with his family when they’re around.

Knows that Petre has already asked his mother if she knew of anything else about you before he moved forward with a proposal, if there was somewhere specific he should do it, what else to bring besides his grandmother’s ring. Petre had been across the room with Tessa during this conversation, but Bucky’s serum-enhanced hearing picked it up and he knew that Petre was head-over-heels for you because how could he not be?

He’ll also never forgive himself if something happened to you at HYDRA. Your argument from last night has been lingering between the two of you, and he doesn’t know what to do to fix it – it’s just the actual process and action of initiating that conversation and exposing his squishy insides to you that causes his brain to shut down and his mouth to spew out stupid shit. He knows that you would never turn him away for being vulnerable, but just the way he’s acted when feelings have come up… it leaves a sour taste in his mouth and he’s sure it’s left one in yours as well.

But you were supposed to call him at lunchtime and he would have said everything he’s been bottling up right then and there. Would have blurted it out because god damn him and his stupid mouth because every time he’s tried to bring it up, he’s fucked up and he hurt you. He doesn’t want to – can’t do that to you again. If you had just called when you said you would, it would have all been cleared up by now and you’d be home and hopefully in his arms and, and, and.

But you didn’t call. You’re not home. Bucky hasn’t apologized.

He’s already called Steve and requested backup – he’d rather be safe than sorry. Now all he’s waiting on is –

His phone that he’d left faceup on the countertop before him beeps and the screen flashes with a notification. Tony finally sent the link to track your location, letting him know where you’re at. Before his heart can even beat again, another message scrolls across the top of his screen.

That’s all Bucky needs before he races out the door, not even bothering to grab a coat before the door slams behind him. Tony’s second message burns behind Bucky’s eyes and makes it hard to think.

Hurry. Something’s not right…

***

The ATV Bucky ‘borrowed’ off one of the neighbors is perfectly capable of getting someone where they’re going, but Bucky grew frustrated with the speed as soon as he raced away with it. He’d have been happier on his souped-up motorcycle, roaring down the roads and sending gravel flying, but it’d be impractical on the freshly fallen snow and hilly terrain.

His heart stutters in his chest every time he looks down at your tracker’s location and doesn't see it moving. There’s no way you’d be sitting idly in one spot deep in the forest, nearly 20 miles away from the HYDRA base and the house you’ve been sharing with Bucky. The home the two of you have made since arriving.

He thinks of how the two of you should be at the house now - fast asleep, maybe in the same bed if he’d found the right words to tell you what’s been going on in his head, why he was being such a asshole yesterday and how he never should have said any of the shit he did – or at least phrased it better, correctly.

Every time Bucky remembers your fight last night, he feels the air leave his lungs and a fist form in his throat. The way your face had crumpled when he said you could be together again but then immediately shifted into a flat stare, no emotion evident when you told him that he was the reason that could never happen. Your broken voice when he tried to approach you again when he followed you home. The wrenching, muffled sobs he could hear you trying to smother across the hall as he laid there wide awake, his own tears soaking the pillow.

If Bucky could turn back time, he never would have asked you to be friends-with-benefits. His emotions were all over the place and he was still relishing his freedom, his autonomy that had been returned to him. He didn’t think he wanted any kind of committed relationship back then because he thought it would suffocate him, make him feel like he wasn’t his own person anymore, that there was someone that he had to answer to again.

He should have known that you wouldn’t have made him feel that way – that you are the exception to every rule and that you always helped build him up, never once did anything that made him feel suffocated or out of control. He’d been the one to initiate your friendship, he’d been the one that sought you out for no-strings-attached sex. You’d only ever been there for him, followed him when he needed to get away from the others, listened when he needed to talk to someone. Loved him when he didn’t want to be loved.

And what did he do with that love? He threw it away, crushed it under the sole of his boot in that alley way, let you walk away from his life when you should have worked it out together.

When he’d finally gotten his head out of his ass and realized that all the late nights, deep conversations, the comfort and warmth he felt in your presence: that was love. He didn’t recognize it at the time, but he knew that you were important to him, that you were the only one he could spend so much time with and not become overwhelmed. It took you leaving for him to realize everything that you did for him, all the support you offered.

He spent a lot of time with his therapist after that. He used to be so angry at you and he knew it was unfair, that it wasn’t logical to be so mad at someone for falling in love, but he was. His therapist listened to his deepest, darkest, most wretched feelings about you, about himself. They helped him to realize that he wasn’t mad at you, that he was only frightened of the love you had for him and the feelings that brought up in him. He didn’t realize he found himself so unlovable and broken that he didn’t think anyone could love him like that. Could love him like you do.

Did. Love him like you did until he ruined that love like he always knew he would, deep down. It took a lot of time and effort, but he finally understands what he feels for you.

But now it might be too late.

Bucky is only a mile out from your location when he hears the barking of dogs and men yelling to each other. He pushes the ATV faster, dodging between trees and ducking under branches. Seconds later, Bucky sees lights bouncing off of a decrepit shack and agents wearing HYDRA uniforms scrambling around.

He takes one hand off the handle and pulls his pistol from the waistband of his pants. He clears the treeline and jumps from the vehicle, ducking and rolling onto the ground. The ATV flies forward and knocks down one of the agents. They all turn to investigate the commotion, and Bucky starts firing.

He shoots one, two, three people off of their feet and they collapse onto the ground in pools of blood. Realizing at this point that Bucky is a threat, the others around the cabin pull their weapons out and aim for Bucky. He clears the next six with one shot each, leaving only two standing and no bullets left in his magazine. Bucky launches the empty pistol straight into one of the assailant’s temples, sending him sprawling. At the same second the pistol leaves his hand, Bucky sprints at the remaining HYDRA agent and slams his metal fist into their face, blood and bone splattering.

Grabbing the gun from this last agent, Bucky grips it in his fist and enters the building. Pivoting side to side, there’s no one immediately in his line of sight. He can see blood spatters around the room, in front of the bookshelf and desk, and a pool of it right in front of him in the archway between rooms. Bucky can hear someone just on the other side of the wall and he adjusts his hands around the gun, finger hovering over the trigger.

Quickly rounding the open archway, Bucky finds his worst nightmare.

He sees you lying motionless on the ground, your warm, red blood steaming as it puddles around your body. A HYDRA operative stands over you, gun poised and ready.

Without another thought, Bucky unloads the weapon. He riddles the final agent with bullet holes, ensuring that their finger will never pull the trigger on you. He doesn’t watch as they fall, instead running towards you with only one thought in his head: Please. Please be alive.

Bucky reaches your body where you lie on your side, facing away from him. He quickly rolls you onto your back and watches as your head lolls from the motion.

“Y/N,” he calls hoarsely, placing his hands on your cheeks and patting quickly. “Y/N. Doll, wake up.”

Your eyes remain closed and you don’t move. Heart in his throat, Bucky places his fingers on your neck.

Nothing.

“Oh god,” Bucky whines.

Nausea roils in his stomach as Bucky places his hands one over the other on your chest, fingers interlocked. He begins compressions, forcing your heart to circulate what little blood remains in your veins. He feels your ribcage creak and groan under the pressure, knowing he will break bones but hoping the effort will revive you.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

Bucky removes his hands from your chest and uses them to tilt your head backwards, opening up your airway. He clamps your nose shut and presses his lips over yours, forcing two breaths into your lungs. He returns immediately to chest compressions, counting up to thirty again and repeating the process.

“Come on, doll. Come back to me.”

It feels like hours that Bucky crouches over your body, working hard to manually pump your heart and keep your brain oxygenated. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been without a pulse, but he’ll do anything to give you a chance at survival.

A loud whirring sound comes from outside and Bucky can hear boots hit the ground. He panics for a second, wondering how he’s going to keep you safe while also keeping you alive, until he hears Steve’s voice.

“Buck? Y/N?!”

“In here!” Bucky yells frantically.

Multiple people come barreling into the kitchen where Bucky is administering CPR. Shock and dread wash over everyone’s faces at the sight in front of them, but Bucky doesn’t have time for them to stand around. You don’t have time.

“Help her!” he cries, lungs and muscles burning. “Please!”

Natasha tries to rush forward, but her booted leg slows her down. Steve and Sam collapse on either side of your body, Sam pushing Bucky out of the way to start his own compressions. Bucky thunks to the ground, his body exhausted from the fear and effort of the last little while.

Wanda runs in, using her powers to suspend the regeneration cradle in the air and bring it over to you. Tony and Nat help Steve and Sam lift you up off the ground and into the machine as Bucky watches your cooling blood drip, drip, drip from your body.

Wanda’s face is wet with tears as she picks the cradle back up with you inside. Using a pulse from his palm, Tony blows a hole in the kitchen wall. Scraps of paper fly off the table and land near Bucky. Wanda takes you directly outside and into the waiting quinjet, Nat and Tony running alongside her.

A blast of cold air from the open wall slams into Bucky and chills him to his core. He looks down at himself and finds his hands and legs covered in blood. Your blood. One of the pieces of paper catches his eye as it turns red where it lays on the floor. He scoops it up gently and tries to make out what is written.

Bucky can tell instantly that it is your handwriting, but it’s nearly illegible now. He can barely make anything out, and what he can rips his heart to shreds. A wet hiccup tears out of Bucky’s throat and his hands start to quake uncontrollably as he stares at your words.

In case these are my last words,

Don’t be sad. I wish that I could have spent the rest of my life with you. I just want you all to know that I love you. so , so much.

“I’m too late,” he whispers. “She’s… she’s…”

Steve and Sam grab either of Bucky’s arms and drag him to his feet.

“We’ve gotta go, pal,” Steve says. “We’ve gotta get her to Helen!” Nodding his head, Bucky allows his friends to lead him outside and onto the jet.

He watches you lying in the cradle, not moving, the entire way home.

Part 13

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283 @terry2227

#sorry i love you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic

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bellewintersroe · 1 month

Note

Band of Brothers hc request where nurse!reader can’t sleep because of all the injuries piling up/feeling guilty about not doing more?

Thank you for the request anon! <3 mentions of grief, wounds, reader is overworked and ur man takes care of you, mainly fluff.

Easy Company x Nurse!Reader Headcanons

Eugene Roe:

I can imagine Gene’s on duty and he see’s you again, still working late into the night, despite him knowing you were on shift before 7am.

The long days were brutal, Eugene knew that. The urge to help out in anyway possible and feel guilt for resting was something he combatted heavily, especially throughout Bastogne.

But nobody can work effectively when they’re running off four hours sleep.

You and Eugene are close, you’re not in a relationship but there’s feelings there that probably go unspoken until the end of the war. So he feels comfortable enough to approach you.

When you accidentally knock into a tray of surgical and medical items and your breathing deeply, hands running over your forehead - he knows you’re too overworked.

“Y/n.” He steps closer. “Get off duty and go to bed.” Gene would borderline sass.

“I’m fine, Gene.” You’d shake him off, snapping from the irritability of exhaustion.

Gene would cover your hand before you had chance to tidy the tray of equipment you’d just messed up. Finally, you’d look at him now.

“Seriously, you ain’t gonna be anymore help running off no sleep.”

You’d feel a little guilty, knowing your tiredness was potentially messing things up, but you couldn’t give up.

“I can’t sleep, Gene, I feel too bad that I’ve got a warm bed and half these men are sleeping on the floor.” You’d finally admit.

“You gotta try, hm?” Ugh his voice would be so low gentle, he’s so careful not to alarm or engage anybody else in the conversation, and the way he’s holding your hand is distracting.

Anyway, he’s too convincing and soon he’s walking you back with a hand in yours, a little saddened by how clearly overworked you are.

“If anything happens you’ll come get me, right?” You’d worry and Gene would offer you a small smile. “Nothin’s gonna happen.”

But anyway he practically forces you to go to bed and by no surprise you’re passed out within minutes of hitting the pillow.

Gene probably comes back to check up on you a few hours later and he’s soo relieved that you’re fast asleep 🥹.

Ron Speirs:

This mf does not mess around, especially when it comes to you.

You and Ron are already in a relationship by the time you’re at Germany, you’re an amazing comfort to one another and Ron’s already thinking about popping the question by the time they get somewhere nicer.

Anyway, when you’re working tirelessly to take care of the poor victims of the camp, you don’t get back until early hours of the morning, eyes circled with dark bags, legs barely functioning.

The next morning Ron see’s you up early asf, so he asks around to see what time you were back last night. When you don’t return from the infirmary until super late the next day, he’s kinda annoyed.

Not annoyed at you really, he just worries for you.

“What time did you get back last night?” He calls you into his office and for a minute you’re actually intimidated by him, skskskksksle.

You’d attempt to lie that it wasn’t that bad but Speirs would just nod with a knowing expression on his face.

“You’re off duty tomorrow.” He’d simply say and your heart would plummet.

“Ron, no!” You’d immediately plead, the guilt building up.

“I can’t have an exhausted nurse running around, that’s no help to anybody.”

“Then do it for me, personally. I can’t sleep knowing all those people are still in there.”

Ron would inhale, feeling a little worried knowing why you’re feeling that way. He’d secretly inform you that you’re moving out tomorrow anyway, speaking so quietly.

Also secretly brings you up to his private room, the fact you have a night off together is overwhelmingly nice and if you can’t sleep Ron’s doing anything possible to help you.

Talking would be the first thing, you’d discuss everything. He’d 100% be cuddly asf after not being able to relax around you for a while, he’d offer you a massage and then if that didn’t work he’s tiring you out even more using other methods… do with that as you please.

Joe Liebgott:

I can deffo imagine him being a little wise ass about it at first. The two of you are close friends, wanting to be something more, and the way Joe expresses it is through teasing you.

Like you’re sitting on the edge of the nurses foxhole, just staring into blank space.

“Jesus, are ya even alive?” Waves in front of your face, half expecting you to crack a smile like you always do.

You’d probably mutter something back to him, snapping and blinking back down to your gloved hands. You’re just waiting for another cry out for help.

“God, you are cranky when you’re tired, huh?!” He watches you stand up with a sigh, glancing around the area to go check up on everyone.

“Where ya going?” He’s a little disappointed and confused, he saw you patrolling around only moments prior.

Anyway when you think of some excuse he’s pulling you back down into the foxhole, climbing in with you.

Kinda confronts you about how you haven’t been sleeping and practically wraps two of the spare blankets around you.

“Stay warm, okay? Talk to me, y/n/n, why can’t ya sleep?” He knows why you can’t sleep, but he’s so caring, even when he doesn’t mean to, Joe naturally falls into the role of sometimes nurturing other people. The perks of having younger siblings, huh?

When you’d explain that there’s too many wounded men back in town to even know where to start, and that you feel too guilty to sleep when all the others need checking up on out here he’s tutting and wrapping an arm around you.

“C’mere. How ya gonna treat anybody when you’re running off no sleep? You’ll get all jumpy and pass out- that’s the last we need, isn’t it, doll?”

“Yeah…”

“Try get some sleep, huh? I’ll stay, as long as nobody finds me here.” Technically being in a foxhole together wasn’t allowed, but the mutual comfort you gained from one another was unexplainable. Plus, Joe didn’t want you creeping up and sneaking away when you had to rest.

When you are asleep and he has to go, he presses the most gentle kiss to your temple, hesitantly climbing back out and telling all the men nearby to shut the hell up.

Bill Guarnere:

“Now when I heard about a lady out here refusin’ to get some shut eye, I didn’t realise it wa’ you.” Bill would smooth a hand up your back as you’d sigh, melting into his touch as he climbed onto the single bunk with you.

“They had to kick you outta’ the infirmary?” Bill doesn’t know if he’s impressed or concerned by your determination out here. Ever since landing you’ve been overwhelmingly busy, he’s glad to see you in bed. He’s not glad to see you awake, however.

“Pretty much.” You’d mutter, turning around to wrap an arm over his lap as he rested with his back against the headboard.

Bill would let you sink completely into his hold, hoping if anything the comfort of having one another would let you sleep.

Bill knows exactly why you can’t sleep, he knows you better than anybody, the guilt, the desperation to make sure everybody is okay. It doesn’t really need to be spoken about.

“Try get some sleep, yeah? I’ll stay as long as I can until those others get back, ok?”

Shifty Powers:

When he rolls over to you in the middle of the night and see’s you awake again he’s reaching over for you instantly.

“What’ya thinkin’ about, hm?” He’d mutter, gazing over your frustrated complexion.

“I should be down there.”

“Where?”

“At the infirmary.”

Now in Germany, it was more civilian injuries you were treating, especially when a building collapses and you’re absolutely swamped with causalities. After hours upon hours of being run off your feet you’re sent off duty, but your brain won’t shut off.

“Last I checked they had it under control.” Shifty would mutter, running a thumb over your creased brow until you relaxed. “If ya running around any longer you ain’t gonna be able to tomorrow.”

Ugh he’d be so soft and reassuring, there’s not a chance you’re leaving the bed however- he makes sure of that.

Dick Winters:

“Y/n, where are you going?” Dick has one eye open in his foxhole when he see’s you creeping past, arms huddled around your chest and scarf wrapped around your head.

Dammit, you thought he’d be asleep.

“Uh, just going to help out, Di- sir.” Although you had both been seeing one another, nothing had occurred out at war so it was extremely professional to maintain professionalism with one another.

“You’ve been there all day.” He’d sit up straighter, both your teeth chattering practically back to one another.

“I-I can’t sleep, sir. There’s so much to do.”

“If you don’t sleep you’ll be no help at all.” He’d remind, a very nice way of saying ‘get the hell back into your foxhole’.

“I know but. I can’t sleep. I feel too guilty.”

“Well we need a nurse out on these lines. Anybody needs you I’ll come get you, alright?” Dick is so understanding and makes you feel less guilty & more important at the same time. He’s so emotionally intelligent.

He walks you back to your foxhole, with a gentle squeeze of your hand he leaves you with a reminder that he’s still there.

He sure as hell isn’t waking you up however.

Babe Heffron:

“Hey get back into bed, would ya?” Babe would be on patrol and see you sneaking back to the aid station, walking alone through Haguenau.

He’d catch you red handed, sneaking over through the concealment of the darkness.

“And what’a’ya doin out here alone, huh?” He wouldn’t be happy, he practically had to force you to go to bed initially, and now you were sneaking out a mere 2 hours later.

“They need my help, Babe.”

“Did they tell ya that personally?” He gets kinda sassy ok, he’s a little annoyed cos he only wants the best for you, but the second he see’s you starting to get upset or blubbering he softens.

“Aw no, c’mere, I didn’t mean to upset ya!” Fuck patrolling, he’s pulling you aside and giving you a cuddle.

When you tell him what’s up he’s reminding you of every single accomplishment, big or small you’ve completed- and just how helpful you are and how everybody loves& appreciates you.

I think Babe is accidentally good with his words in certain situations, even if he’s a little flustered and worried for you, it’s his kindness and reassurance that has you eventually knocked out in bed again.

#band of brothers headcannons #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #eugene roe x reader smut #ron speirs headcannons #ron speirs x reader #liebgott x reader #joe liebgott x reader #bill guarnere x reader #shifty powers x reader #dick winters x reader #babe heffron x reader

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turcott3 · 4 months

Text

margaret

tj hughes x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, fluff!!

when you know you know

masterlist

as you finished packing your bags, you hung up the facetime and turned to your fellow team girlfriend, alexis.

“i’m so excited for this trip, i still feel so new to the group, it’s only been 4 months so it’ll definitely be nerve wracking.” you admit to her

“we all love you so much, you have nothing to worry about. we all hoped tj could land a girl like you.”

“you’re too nice stop it.” you say, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“no i’m being serious. he’s a good, sweet, and responsible guy. we’re so glad he has you, and then we also get to have you. it’s a win win.” she smiles as you hug her.

“are you sure it’s okay that tj and i have our own car? it’s a long drive, id feel bad if only we traveled alone.”

“yes babe, it’s totally fine.” she laughs exiting your room.

“goodnight lex.” you call out.

“good night y/n.” she yells back.

early the next morning, the lot of cars arrive outside to pick the girls up.

“i’ll see you when we get there.” alexis smiles climbing into the vehicle with rutger and kayleigh.

“you ready to go?” tj asks, appearing next to you leaving the car running.

“yep.” you say smiling.

“me too.” he replies kissing you on the cheek and grabbing your luggage.

“you don’t have to carry that.”

“well i’m not letting you so, it doesn’t matter.” he replies back and you roll your eyes jokingly.

“catch yall in pcb.” frank says rolling the window down before they take off down the street. tj opens the car door for you to get in and puts on the playlist you two made together.

“damn, long drive.” you scoff looking at the screen.

“yeah well at least it’s just me and you.” he says placing a light hand on your thigh.

“teej?”

“yeah baby?”

“can we stop? i need a snack.”

“yeah of course, look at the exit signs and let me know.” he says without hesitation.

“this next one has a nice gas station.”

“perfect.” he says, pulling off the long interstate. you enter the gas station grabbing a few snacks and drinks for the ride. you place them all on the counter and they get rung in.

“your total is 11.84. cash or card?” the woman asks.

“card.” tj interrupts stepping up beside you.

“tj i-“

“don’t care, i’m paying.” he smirks before quickly pecking you on the side of the head causing you to giggle. the pair returns to the car, snacks in hand, for the remainder of their 15 hour ride.

“is it okay if i take a nap? i woke up at 4 and it’s really ruining my vibe right now.” you ask.

“yeah of course, however long you need.”

“okay i just wanted to make sure, didn’t wanna leave you lonely.”

“i’m never lonely with you.” he smiles turning to look at you which you gladly return. you shut your eyes with your head leaned up against the window, praying this long drive could be over soon so you could enjoy time with everyone. you were quick to slip from reality soon after you shut your eyes. after what seemed like a few short minutes you woke up and saw the clock had gone from 12 pm to 3 pm.

“woah i slept for a long time.” you say quietly breaking the silence.

“good morning sunshine, how’d you sleep?” he giggles.

“oh i slept wonderfully.” you reply stretching out.

“we only have about 7 more hours to go.”

“ONLY?” you say in disbelief, this ride was endless.

“yeah i know, it’s taking forever. they’re like a solid hour ahead of us.” tj says.

“wow we’re gonna be fashionably late.”

“that’s because we’re awesome.” he turns to you smirking.

“totally.”

those 7 hours passed dreadfully and you’d finally arrived. you see the condo building approaching.

“finally.” you sigh as tj passes it without hesitation.

“isn’t that where we’re staying?”

“no baby, that’s where they’re staying.” he smirks.

“what do you mean they’re staying?”

“my aunt owns a house a little further down the coast. she’s letting us stay there.” he says placing a hand back onto your leg.

“you’re joking?”

“not joking.”

“who else is there?”

“it’s just for us y/n.”

“like we have a whole house just for me and you?” you ask and he nods.

“does everyone already-“

“yes, they know. i told them.” he quickly replies.

“they weren’t mad?”

“no of course not. we’ll still see them.” he giggles, squeezing your leg slightly. you pull into the driveway of a gorgeous beach house. as soon as the car is off, you open the door and inhale the salty scent of the ocean.

“it’s beautiful.” you say.

“i’m glad you like it.” he says grabbing your luggage and carrying it up the front steps. he unlocks the door, opening it for you to enter. you observe all of the cute and modern coastal decorations that littered the entryway.

“where’s my room?” you ask.

“you mean our room?” he says and you turn your head.

“this is our first big trip together, of course we’re sharing a room. i don’t wanna spend a split second away from you.” he says hugging you from behind.

“oh i’m so excited. i’m gonna go unpack.” you say grabbing onto his arms.

“sounds good, i’m gonna go grab my stuff.” he says pulling away and exiting the house back out to the car.

after you finished unpacking everything, it was late. you’d spent the whole day in the car and just finished unpacking at a ripe 10:30 pm. you step into the bathroom, pushing your hair back with your big tacky bow headband to wash your face. once your skincare was complete, you walk back into the room to tj already tucked in, waiting for you to join him.

“i love that pink headband you use to wash your face. it’s so goofy.” he says as you tuck yourself under the covers.

“it keeps my hair out of my face and i look great in it.”

“touché to that.” he giggles reaching over to pull his lamp string.

“goodnight my love.” he says kissing you sweetly on the lips.

“goodnight tj.” you smile, rolling over and drifting off into a peaceful sleep. when you wake up the next morning, the bed is cold and empty.

“what the-“ you say looking over at the alarm clock that read 8:30. you get out of bed and slide on your slippers, waltzing into the bathroom to put your contacts in. you make your way out of the bathroom and follow the strong sent of something being cooked, which lead you to the kitchen. you’re met with tj leaned over the stove in his boxers and your bright pink bow headband.

“good morning.” he smiles at you.

“good morning my beautiful bow head.” you giggle walking into the kitchen to kiss him on the cheek.

“hey it really does keep my hair out of my face.”

“and you look great in it.” you say, just like he had last night.

“honestly, can you order me one? cards in my wallet on the counter.”

“yes teej, i’ll order you a pink bow headband.” you laugh.

“i’m being fully serious i hope you know.” he says turning to you smirking.

“you are very hard to take serious in that bow babe.” you state, pulling up amazon on your phone.

“i’m a very serious person, haven’t you noticed.” he scoffs, returning his focus to the pancake that was ready to flip. you order him his prized bow headband and pull yourself up onto the counter to watch him hard at work. once he’s finished his cooking, the two of you eat and get ready for a day alone at the beach.

“white or purple?” you say holding up your bikinis.

“whichever one shows more of your butt.” he says, his words muffled by his toothbrush. you took note of the grey swim shorts he was wearing and how they complimented his skin tone. he was practically irresistible.

“lord.” you laugh, setting the white one back in your suitcase.

“what? is it a crime to stare at my girlfriends butt?” he asks, spitting the remaining toothpaste out.

“no tj, it’s not.” you laugh, changing into your swimsuit.

“look at you, do a spin.” he smiles getting a good look at you. you do as your told and approach him, his arms wrapping around you and sliding down your back onto your ass as your arms linked around his neck.

“you’re so beautiful.” he smiles.

“all you babe.” you reply kissing him and pulling away.

“got everything ready?” he asks, picking up the two chairs.

“yup, i’m ready to go.” you say, leading the pair out the door. after a few hours spent on the beach together, you come back to the beach house to get ready to go to dinner with everyone.

“first day at the beach, check.” you say setting everything down on the deck, out of breath from the hellish walk back.

“new favorite thing, going to the beach with you.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your warm sunkissed cheek.

“baby, i’m getting in the shower.” you call out from the bathroom before starting the water. once it’s a temperature you liked, you step in, washing away all the remaining sand. completely relaxing in the shower. once you were fully rinsed, you step out and wrap your body in a fluffy white towel before hearing tj’s voice. you could tell he was on the phone so you tip toe over to the door, pressing your ear up to it, trying to see who he could be talking to.

“it’s been great mom, the weather is so nice.” he says, you not being able to hear the other end of the conversation.

“she’s been incredible. couldn’t ask for a better woman.” he says before pausing for a good while.

“i really do think i love her mom. i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about-“ he begins and you back away from the door, not wanting to spoil anything for yourself.

“he loves me?” you whisper to yourself, your heart growing giddy at the fact that you felt the exact same way. you just never knew when to say it. you finished drying off, blowing out your hair and exiting the bathroom.

“bathrooms free if you wanna shower.” you smile at the strawberry blonde boy.

“perfect, i’ll be out in like two seconds okay?” he states.

“okay.” you blush as he kisses you on the head in passing.

the two of you got ready for dinner, listening to your playlist.

“which button up?” he asks holding up two of the shirts you’d bought him.

“i like the white one, we’ll be matchy matchy.” you laugh, applying a layer of aquaphor. he reappears in the doorway in his shirt and gives you a little twirl.

“you look great babe.” you giggle stepping towards him and attaching your lips to his.

“i’ll never look better than my lady. look at you, pure perfection.” he says, grabbing your hand and twirling you around.

“okay baby, let’s go, don’t wanna be late.” he says grabbing the keys and opening the front door for you.

“so where is it we’re going?” you ask buckling your seatbelt.

“well we have to make a pit stop first since the sun is setting. told them to give us 30 more minutes.” he winks at you.

“tj we are not fu-“

“that is not what i was implying, chill out.” he laughs, placing a hand in your lap and you interlock your fingers with his. he drives to a beach just down the road and pulls into a parking lot. you meet at the front of the car, him reaching his hand out to yours and you gladly accept. you both remove your shoes before walking down the short path to a beach that was completely empty.

“this is so peaceful.” you say as you get further out onto the beach.

“my mom and i used to come here every first sunset of our trips.” he smiles, stopping in his tracks.

“it’s beautiful tj.” you say looking around. he grabs onto your other hand to focus your attention onto him.

“just like you.” he smirks.

“stop you’re gonna make me blush or whatever.” you giggle together.

“listen y/n. we’re been together for 5 months 2 weeks and 4 days. those have been the best 5 months 2 weeks and 4 days of my life all because of you baby. you make my everyday so much brighter. i couldn’t stand living another day without telling you how much i love you. i love you so much i don’t even have to proper words to express it. you’re so beautiful, gracious, funny, sweet, kind. the list could go on forever. you’re fucking incredible. i love you so much.” he says, not losing your eye contact a single time, even as the tears welted up, eventually spilling over.

“i love you tj, i love you so much.” you say hugging onto the boy.

“why are you crying honey?” he giggles holding onto you tightly.

“i’ve never felt this way before. which sounds so tacky but everything just feels right with you. no icks, no complaints, nothing. you’re perfect i love you.” you say grabbing onto his face and bringing his lips to yours.

“you think we can still make it to dinner in time?” he giggles pulling away and wiping your tears delicately with his thumbs, bringing his lips to yours again for a short moment.

“i think we can, come on.” you say grabbing his hand and running back to the car. you make it back completely out of breath and quickly rinse your feet to get in the car, speeding off down the road to get to dinner. once the two of you finally arrive, you enter the restaurant to everyone sitting and waiting for the two of you.

“sorry for the hold up guys.” tj laughs pulling your chair out for you before he takes a seat beside you, placing an arm around your waist.

“and no before any of you fuckers ask, we were not having sex in the parking lot.” you say pointing at duker and rutger.

“hey i wasn’t gonna say anything.” dylan says defensively.

“he’s right, but i definitely was.” rutger says and kayleigh smacks him on the arm.

“what was the hold up then hm?” mark asks as frank nudges tj’s arm.

“you guys are acting like i proposed or something.” he laughs.

“well?” mark repeats.

“i told her i loved her.” he admits and the whole table smiles and rutger hands dylan a 20.

“yall bet on us?” you laugh.

“sure did.” duker smirks as rutger flips him off.

“did you say it back though?” alexis asks from beside frank.

“yes i sure did.” you smirk, leaning on tj’s shoulder as his hand brushed gently up and down your side.

“new official lovers have entered the group, we’re getting crazy now guys.” ethan says causing the whole table to laugh. this trip turned out to be the best thing that could’ve happened this semester, you were there with your best friends and what turned out to be the only guy you’ve ever truly loved.

(sorry for the tacky ending, didn’t know how to round it off😍)

#tj hughes #umich imagine #umich hockey #rutger mcgroarty #mark estapa #ethan edwards #dylan duke #turcs’ talk #tj hughes x reader

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wolfjackle-creates · 10 months

Text

Bring Me Home: Arc 2 Part 10

Happy Wednesday!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

-----

The sun was high in the sky when Tim stirred the next morning. He and Bart were the only ones still in the guest room; Cassie and Conner must’ve gotten up already.

Bart had an arm tossed over his torso and his head was shoved into the pillow inches from Tim’s. No way to extricate himself without waking his friend, so he let his eyes close again. It was a long night and they deserved a lie-in.

But it was not to be. Moments later, the door banged open and Conner was there.

“Rise and shine, sleepyheads!” he called out. “Breakfast is ready!”

Bart grumbled into the pillow and Tim nudged him with his elbow. Without opening his eyes, he mumbled, “Don’t think we’re gonna be given a choice, Bart.”

“But, Rooob,” Bart complained, “you’re comfy.”

Tim yawned. Cassie ran into the room and jumped on the base of the bed.

“Come on, guys! It’s almost noon!”

“That early?” asked Tim. “I changed my mind. Give us another hour.” He covered his eyes with his arm and tried to roll over without displacing Bart’s arm. Bart pulled him closer.

“You’ve gotten like twenty calls from Bruce, Tim. You might want to answer them.”

Shit, Bruce. Tim missed morning check in and Bruce must be panicking. He grumbled and pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard. “B’s a worrywart.”

“Dick’s called a few times too,” added Cassie.

“They’re both worrywarts.” Tim yawned and held out his hand, and Conner passed over his phone.

Bart sat up next to him with his own grumbles and rested his head on Tim’s shoulder so he could see the screen as well.

Conner had only been slightly exaggerating. Ten new calls from Bruce, three from Dick, and one from Alfred. His texts, on the other hand…

Tim opened the group chat and sent a message.

Tim: We’re fine. Just had a late night and needed to sleep in.

After a moment’s hesitation, he added,

Tim: Return will be delayed by a few days. Will give ETA when I have more information.

Immediately, he received an incoming call from Bruce. Bart laughed against his cheek.

“No way am I sticking around for a bat interrogation. Kon, you mentioned breakfast? Are the Drs Fenton around?”

“Nope, they’re gone,” said Cassie.

Tim answered the call as Bart pushed off the bed. He and Cassie left discussing breakfast options.

“Hey, B,” said Tim as soon as the call connected.

“Report, Robin. What happened? Why’d you miss check-in?”

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to. Stayed up late catching up with my friend and then overslept this morning. Everything’s fine.” Tim expertly ignored Conner’s raised eyebrow. Why did everyone make such a big deal about lying to Batman?

“Hn.” Shit, that was Bruce’s I’m-not-sure-I-should-believe-you ‘Hn.’

Tim let the silence drag on. If he got too defensive, Bruce would absolutely know he was lying through his teeth.

“You just overslept?”

“Yep. Stayed up late playing a video game. It had to do with ghosts.” And sprinkle in just a bit of truth.

“Set an alarm for tomorrow. Do not miss any further check ins. When will you be returning? I need to arrange attendance with your school.” Bruce was clearly not happy.

“It’ll probably be a few more days. I’ll give you an update on this evening’s check-in. After Danny gets back from school.”

“I want all your homework completed by the time you return to Gotham, Tim.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you need help with transportation?”

“Nah. Conner’s agreed to take me back.” Not that he had asked. He looked up at Conner and raised an eyebrow in question.

Conner rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly and nodded. Tim grinned back and gave him a thumbs up.

“Very well. Is his phone working yet?”

“Uh, let me ask.” Tim looked up to Conner. “Is your phone working yet?”

Conner shook his head. “Nah, they weren’t able to get to it. But Cassie’s and Bart’s are.”

Tim relayed the information to Bruce who merely hummed. “Very well. Your next check in will occur before nine PM, Tim.”

“You’ve got it, B. Talk to you then!” Before Bruce could ask any more questions or begin to doubt his lies, Tim ended the call.

“Dude, I can’t believe how easily you lie to him.”

Tim shrugged. “I don’t get why people think it’s such a big deal. You just have to know what he’d expect and play into that. So long as he doesn’t learn Danny is also a superhero, this’ll be easy. And my chats with Danny are so encrypted not even Bruce will be able to hack them.”

Conner just shook his head. “Whatever you say. Now, come on downstairs. Cassie and I’ve been listening to the news and we’ll give you the rundown on what’s going on.”

“Where are our hosts anyway?” asked Tim as he followed Conner through the house.

“They went to Danny’s school to give an assembly on ghost safety and help implement some new security protocols for the students.”

“Danny’s not gonna like that.”

On the way down the stairs, Tim heard the voice of a newscaster.

“…why Phantom has hidden his connection to the Justice League. Perhaps we were too quick to judge him a menace. Though the Fentons still insist that all ghosts are merely posthumous consciousness implanted on ectoplasm and evil. I suppose we will just have to see. Either way, the combined work of Phantom and the Teen Titans has appeared to scare away the invasion last night. Due to their hard work, no casualties occurred, however the city did suffer hundreds of thousands in property damage.”

Cassie passed him a bowl of cereal and selection of protein bars. “We heeded your warning about cooking, so you’re stuck with a cold breakfast of stuff Kon and I picked up at the store.”

“Thanks.” Tim took it and started eating. “So what do we know?”

“The ghosts seem to have disappeared,” said Cassie. “But I don’t know if I trust it. They could be hanging around invisible or possessing people. The Fentons left for Danny’s school about half an hour ago and according to the news, the mayor will be there as well.”

“We’re hoping that’ll be broadcasted as well,” added Conner. “Considering how many times the mayor said he’d be at the school this morning when he was giving his press conference, I feel like he’ll want it publicized as much as possible.”

Tim nodded. “At least by publicly associating with him, our presence seems to have helped Danny’s reputation as a hero in the town. He’s been struggling with that.”

Bart snorted. “Wonder why. His parents love his alter ego so much.”

On the TV, the newscaster said, “Now, let’s switch to our correspondent live in Casper High!”

“Looks like it’s starting! Think we’ll see Danny in the crowd?” asked Bart.

Tim shrugged and moved until he was sitting right in front of the TV, eating mechanically as the mayor proved he was only there for the photo-op.

At least until the assembly was interrupted when a giant humanoid-wolf creature attacked. “Shit,” said Tim as he tried to call Danny.

Who of course didn’t pick up.

“I’ll go see if there’s anything we can do to help!” said Bart who was gone before Tim could agree or disagree.

Five minutes later, his phone rang. He set it to speaker before answering. “What’s going on?”

“The wolf escaped, but Danny wants us to stay put. His parents will be returning soon and he doesn’t want us to raise any suspicions. Since this time it’s only one ghost, he should be able to handle it.”

Tim ground his teeth. “Fine. But tell him to keep us in the loop.”

“Will do!”

The call disconnected. And a minute later, he had a new group message.

Danny: Hey, Tim. I’ve added Sam and Tuck to a group chat to keep you up to date at Bart’s request.

Tim let out a breath and added Cassie, Bart, and Conner.

Tim: I’ve added my friends to make it even easier Tucker: Tell Conner I’ll work on his phone as soon as school’s over Tim: He says thanks

And then Bart was back.

Tim sighed. “So I guess we’re sitting tight until the Drs Fenton return. I feel blind right now.”

Cassie sat next to him and bumped their shoulders. “We’ll figure this one out just like we have all the ones before.”

Conner sandwiched him on the other side. “Yep. And the Fentons don’t seem like the type to hide information. They’ll tell us everything we want to know.”

“You’re both right. We’ll fix this and be home before we know it.”

-----

A little bit of a quieter segment after two weeks ago, but all the action is happening with Danny and co. It'll pick up shortly, though!

I'm afraid I'm no longer doing tag lists, but please check out the subscription post if you want notifications when I update!

#dpxdc #dead tired #tim is lying to bruce #bruce hates when his kids miss check ins #his mind immediately goes worst case scenario #a wild wulf appeared!

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mynameismckenziemae · 4 months

Text

She��s a Fire-Epilogue

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OFC/Reader (no use of y/n)

The End

(previous chapter here)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of smut, throwing up mentioned, pregnancy mentioned, lmk if I missed anything.

You officially became Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw 3 months later.

You had looked breathtaking in an ivory long-sleeved, lace gown. It was an intimate affair with both your closest friends and family on a snowy day in Colorado the day after Christmas. You’re not sure who cried more.

The evening after the wedding you departed for your honeymoon at an all-inclusive in the Bahamas.

You couldn’t contain your laughter at Bradley’s flush when his bag was opened and searched by customs, revealing all the sex toys you’d stuffed in there. He was equally aroused as he was humiliated as they rummaged through the items before zipping it closed and handing it back. His eyes were dark as he stalked over, dragging you to a quiet corner of the terminal to tell you exactly how you were going to pay for embarrassing him when you got to the resort. Good thing it rained the following day-your ass had paid for it dearly and you could hardly sit without wincing. Totally worth it though.

It was a perfect, relaxing week. Equal amount of time was spent in the sun as it was in your room, wringing pleasure out of each other in every way possible.

Like every good thing, it came to an end too quickly, but you were happy to get back home to Lola.

Bradley was called out to deploy only a few days later and even though you understood it’s his job, it was disappointing.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

It’s been a rough deployment too; 5 weeks in and you only got one short phone call. Not to mention you’ve been nauseous on and off for over a week.

You woke up in a sour mood one Sunday morning; your boobs hurt and were cramping so much that even Lola couldn’t cheer you up.

Must be getting my period, you think as you feed Lola. But you freeze when you look at the calendar. You were late.

You’d gotten your birth control implant removed shortly before the wedding. But there was no way you were pregnant yet. It took some time for your body to regulate when going off birth control, right?

30 minutes and a quick run to Target later, you’re shaking as you force yourself to not peek before the 3 minutes are up.

You startle when your phone signals that time up. Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes. Happy tears immediately fill your eyes at the two pink lines. It’s positive.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You’re still sitting on the floor in disbelief a few minutes later when Sunny texts you and Nat. Nat didn’t deploy with the rest of the squad this time for some reason, but you hadn’t seen her as she went to visit family for a few weeks.

Sunny: Wanna have brunch with me?

Nat: Yes! I just got home last night from Dani’s. I’ve missed you guys.

Rowan: Missed you too, Nat. Brunch sounds great.

Sunny: Yay! Meet at the place on Park Street in an hour?

Rowan: Perfect, see you soon!

Nat: Works for me.

You get there early and snag a table, waving them over when they arrive.

“What can I start you off with to drink?” The waitress asks right as she sits down.

“Just water is fine,” you answer, pointedly looking at your menu while you avoid their eyes.

“I’ll do the same, thanks.” Sunny replies.

“Me too,” Nat smiles.

The waitress leaves and you finally look up.

They look between each other and you, looking like they’re ready to burst.

“I’m pregnant,” you all say at the same time.

Your eyes widen. “Oh my God! No way!”

“What?! You are too?!” Sunny says, choking on a sob as you both wrap her in a hug.

“Yeah, I just found out. Literally right before you texted. I’m still in shock, like…it doesn’t feel real yet. I wish Bradley was here,” you sniff, wiping your own tears as you pull away.

Nat smiles, eyes watery as well. “I found out at the pre-deployment screening. I hadn’t even missed my period yet. I told Jake and he was…ecstatic. My body hadn’t even changed yet but he was insatiable, didn’t even let me get out of bed the day before he left,” she laughs. “I’m a little over 7 weeks now. Does Bob know? How far along are you?”

Sunny shakes her head and dabs her eyes with her napkin. “No, and it’s the worst. I found out Thursday. I almost threw up at work when I was debriding a wound. I thought it was weird because it’s never bothered me before. I got home and took a test when I realized my period was a day late. I’m about 6 weeks. I wanted to tell you both in person.”

“I’m almost 6 weeks too, if my calculations are right. Wow,” you smile and squeeze their hands, “We’re all having babies, due at the same time. What are the odds?”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Just as you finish eating your phones go off simultaneously.

Bradley: Just hit dry land. I’ll see you in an hour, Mrs. Bradshaw. 😘

Rowan: Can’t wait, Mr. Bradshaw. 😏

Natasha and Sunny are looking at their phones and you assume they both received the same type of message based on their smiles.

Hugs and promises to give updates are given before you all rush out.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Your stomach starts to turn halfway home, and your mouth starts filling with saliva as you pull into the drive. You manage to make it to the bathroom before you empty the contents of your stomach, but not without startling Lola in your haste.

She timidly peeks her head in the door as you retch.

“I’m so sorry sweet girl,” you murmur, holding out the hand not gripping the toilet. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her tail thumps loudly against the wall at your tone before deciding you’re forgiven. She lays at your feet with a huff.

You flush and curl up next to her, not wanting to get too far from the toilet as your stomach gurgles.

“Mama doesn’t feel good because I’ve got a baby in my tummy. You’re gonna be a big sister,” you whisper, rubbing her soft ears.

“Row? Lola? Where are you guys?” Bradley calls.

“In the bathroom,” you reply, sitting up as your heart flutters. Or maybe it’s your stomach because you’re back to throwing up as he enters the bathroom.

“Oh, Row. Are you okay?” He asks, too preoccupied to notice the pregnancy test on the counter, right next to the sink where he’s running a washcloth under cool water.

“I will be, thanks,” you sigh as he presses it to your neck.

“Is it the stomach flu? Something you ate?”

You shake your head, closing the lid and flushing again. He helps you to your feet and rubs your shoulders while you brush your teeth.

“How long have you been sick?”

“I’ve been feeling queasy for the last week or so.”

“Hope it doesn’t last too much longer,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

You pick up the positive pregnancy test and turn to him.

“Won’t be more than 9 months,” you smile weakly.

“You-you’re pregnant?” He whispers, his face pales and is suddenly white as a sheet. “Oh shit, I better sit down.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After he feels less faint, he guides you to bed and brings back a bucket before climbing in behind you.

“How far…when are you-just,…wow,” he laughs. “We’re having a baby, Row!”

“I just found out this morning,” you smile. “I think it happened on our honeymoon, so I’m due in the middle of September.”

“That’s amazing,” he breathes, resting his palm below your naval, “Did Nat tell you?”

“Yeah. We met Sunny for brunch this morning. She’s a little more than a week further along than me and Sunny.”

“Wait-Sunny too?! Holy shit!” He laughs in disbelief. “This is amazing!”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You fall asleep in his arms and wake an hour later to his head on your thighs, whispering to the little being inside you.

“…and I can’t wait to meet you. You’re gonna be my little buddy, doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or girl, I don’t mind either way. Tell grandma and grandpa Bradshaw that daddy says hi and I miss them so so much,” he murmurs, voice thick with tears. “And quit making your mama sick, okay? You’re so lucky to have her, she’s the best. Just don’t make her mad. I love you already.”

You haven’t even opened your eyes but tears are already streaming down your face. “You’re going to be an amazing dad, Bradley.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

7 ½ months later:

Wade Michael Seresin comes screaming into the world first, followed by Owen Bradley Floyd right on his due date; already a stickler for being on time, unlike his namesake.

5 days overdue, Connor Nicholas Bradshaw finally graces you with his presence, perfect in every way.

The end.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

A/N: Well that’s a wrap! BRB while I go cry.

Anywho, let me know if there’s anything you want me to elaborate on or go into further detail (like the honeymoon—would it even be a chapter I write without at least mentioning a spanking? 🥴).

Next up will be the asks. So far I’ve gotten:

Jake and Natasha breeding/pregnancy smut

Foursome with Jake, Nat, Row and Bradley

Tagging:

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

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vaya-writes · 7 months

Text

Serving the Serpent - 9

Briar owes Lord Isen her life. She works off her debt by serving in his castle. Dealing with the rapidly changing circumstances of her life, she’s not used to anyone paying her much attention. It’s hard when Isen seems set on interacting with her.

Cis female human with selective mutism x male naga (slow burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalances, eventual smut). 4700 words. Content warnings for this chapter include discussion of Briar’s cult-like upbringing, sleep deprivation, and Briar experiencing significant anxiety. Divider from firefly-graphics.

Thank you for your patience everyone <3 It's been a month and a half, whoops. I present the only one bed trope. Enjoy.

Previous - Masterlist

The phrase ‘when it rains, it pours’ is not always accurate in the Ophidian Lowlands. Usually, the sky hangs low and overcast, drizzling on and off throughout autumn. Perhaps the saying is a holdover from when the Pilgrims lived on the continent. Perhaps it was never meant to be used literally, and only ever used to refer to misfortunes of other kinds. Regardless of the phrase’s origins, it proves especially true the morning lord Isen is supposed to start his tour.

Briar finds him amidst a tangle of blankets, unresponsive. She’s not surprised. The serpent is cold blooded, and the temperature can’t be doing him any favours. Opening the curtains doesn’t do much to rouse him, and neither does stoking the fire.

Briar approaches the bed, staring down at the pale scales that peek out from the blankets, wondering if she should wake the lord. She’s never had to do so before, as he’s never had to be up quite so early.

She coughs softly, but Isen doesn’t respond. Neither does he move when she shakes the bed. She waits a moment before trying again. And then a third time. Her anxiety grows when she realises she’ll have to take more drastic measures.

She’s just doing her job. She won’t get in trouble. She won’t.

Isen lets out a hiss when she pulls the blankets from the bed. He curls up tighter and attempts to sink beneath his pillows. Briar starts removing them, one cushion at a time until Isen lies bare on the bed. Still, he does not wake.

Briar lets out a loud sigh – practically a groan with the way exasperation colours her voice. They have things to do and places to be, and they’re going to be late.

She flinches when Isen sits up, quite suddenly.

He squints at her, bleary, hair mussed. “D’you say somthin, Leg?”

She’s taken aback by his slurred speech. Enough so that she doesn’t even have room to worry at the question. Instead, she raises her brow. ‘Did you?’

He rubs his face. Lets out a groan.

And lays back down.

Briar watches him with widened eyes. She no longer has any compunctions about shaking him awake.

Isen is saved from Briar’s ire when Arol blows into the room, completely abluster.

“You do this every year Kovit!”

Briar jumps back as the lizard grabs Isen’s tail and pulls; heaving until Isen’s bottom half is hanging off the bed.

“The weather broke, I’ve been rearranging things since sunrise, we are already behind. And you’re not even out of bed!”

Isen lets out another groggy noise before sitting up. “Sss fine Arol. The tide doesn’t change ‘til midmorning.”

“The tide doesn’t- are you not listening? It’s been raining all night. We’re not taking the Ophidia, we have to go on foot!”

Isen takes a moment. “What?”

“You heard me.”

He sighs. Rubs his face again. “Okay, okay. What time is it?”

“Time to leave. The sun has been up for nearly an hour.”

“Okay. I’m moving.” He slides off the bed, moving sluggishly towards the wardrobe.

Arol turns tail and is about to leave when Briar taps him on the arm. She doesn’t want to deal with his mood, but would prefer that to being left in the dark.

“What?”

She stills at his tone. Stares him dead on, and waits for him to deflate a little.

To his credit, Arol seems to understand her expression. “You’re right, sorry. I’m just feeling quite frazzled.”

She shrugs, and waves off the statement. Then she shakes her head. ‘What is happening?’

Arol eyes her hands with a wince. “I’m sorry, I haven’t learnt Sign yet. Isen, can you translate?”

Isen leans out from his wardrobe as Briar repeats herself. “She’s asking what happened.”

“Of course, you’re new around here.” Arol’s posture loosens. “Most of the time we travel the lowlands via barge. This trip would only take a day or two if we could do that. But it stormed all last night, and now the river isn’t safe to sail.”

Briar nods her understanding. She tries signing something simple to him. ‘What’s wrong with that?’ (Why, you, bad)

He gets the gist of it. “It will take a whole day to travel to the Sisters on foot. Even if we can sail tomorrow, that’s a whole day we’re adding to our itinerary. I’ve had organise additional supplies, reschedule our appointments... It’s not a big problem. I’m just feeling foul. Sorry for yelling, you shouldn’t have to witness that.”

Briar waves him off again. ‘It’s fine.’

He nods. “Thanks, Legs. I’ll meet you both downstairs. Breakfast will be on the trail.”

Briar’s nose crinkles. It seems Isen’s nickname is sticking.

Arol is gone by the time Isen emerges from his wardrobe, dressed and looking marginally more awake. He lets out another yawn, before giving Briar an almost contemplative frown.

She raises her brow, accompanying him as he follows after his representative. ‘What?’

“I think I dreamt that you said something to me, right before I woke, but I can’t remember what.”

Briar immediately knows what he’s talking about. He had woken right after she’d groaned at him. She can’t help but stare at her feet as they walk, an unsourced feeling of anxiety curling in her gut. The idea of vocalising-

She doesn’t even want to think about it. Every time it had come up since she was a child, she’d been met with nothing but distaste. Exasperation. Blame. Even the kindest of the pilgrims had alienated her. Made her feel like she was deficit of something. She doesn’t want to hear it from Isen too.

It’s irrational. She knows he wouldn’t hurt her intentionally. Wouldn’t pressure her to speak if she made it clear that she didn’t want to. But everyone who’d ever found out that she could speak – or at least that she should be able to, that her vocal cords were not, in fact, damaged, did nothing but hurt her. Intentional or not. Even Stella, from time to time. It was exhausting.

She realises that Isen is silent. He’d been awaiting her reaction to his confession. Had possibly taken her silence the wrong way.

She can’t say why she does it. But the exhaustion is back, and part of her wants to confide in somebody. To share, and lighten the burden, just a little. To say ‘I am tired, and I hate this’. And she doesn’t think Isen will make a big deal out of it.

So she does it again.

She sighs, letting out an unpleasant, almost wheezing groan while she does, replicating the noise that had woken her boss.

Isen whips his head in her direction. He looks bewildered. Amused. “Is that what woke me up? I didn’t dream it?”

Briar shrugs, looking back at her feet again as they descend the stairs.

He’s silent for a moment, and she dreads the questions that might come.

But he only huffs. “I must have really annoyed you. Sorry Legs.”

She looks up, surprised.

“It’s the temperature. I wish I could tell you I’d be better, but it’s only going to get worse.” He runs a hand through his hair. Adds offhandedly, “I’d probably sleep through the whole of winter if it weren’t for my- well-” he looks embarrassed. “I guess you’ll see.”

No longer wracked with tension, Briar levels Isen with a mystified stare.

He waves her off. “Don’t worry about it. Sorry for making your job harder this morning.”

---

Briar does not enjoy travelling.

The path near Riversreach is manageable. It’s supplemented with wooden planks laid over the worst of the mud, keeping the muck from swallowing the ground. But by midmorning they’re trudging through the sludge– all of Briar’s concentration going towards sidestepping puddles and navigating mired pits that menace her boots with their depth.

She’d been aware that there are no major roads through the Lowlands, but seeing really is believing. If she were here alone, she’d become quickly lost amidst the wetlands. Now and then she spots markings on the trees – bits of rope and ribbon tied to the branches to make the way more visible. But most of her focus is on her feet as she scrabbles to keep hold of her luggage.

Pack animals wouldn’t be able to traverse the lowlands with any effectiveness, so everyone carries their own things. Even Isen drapes a bag over one shoulder, his partison over the other. He looks particularly miserable.

There are places where he can dodge the worst of the mud, but most of the journey he has no choice but to slosh through it. Briar understands now, why he’d elected to forgo a sarong today. Anything on his lower half would be spattered and ruined by the mud. Still, he wears a coat. It surprises Briar, who’d never seen him cover his chest. He really must handle the cold poorly.

Shivering in the drizzle, she can’t help but sympathise with him.

By the time they arrive at their first stop, Briar is regretting her choice to join Isen on this trip. She knows she should take in the sights; examine the first settlement of the Lowlands with keen interest. But her skin is splotchy from insect bites, her feet are wet and blistered, and her hair is frizzing something fierce in front of her eyes.

Arol takes one look at her and snorts. “You look as miserable as our lord.”

She acknowledges him with a grimace.

The sun is setting when they make their way into the raised and stilted village. It’d be a relief to climb out of the mud if it hadn’t followed her, clinging to her legs with what feels like malicious intent.

A stocky lizard greets them, chest bare despite the rapidly cooling air. He’s an older male, his colours faded somewhat, and scars dotting his hands and arms. “Welcome to the Lower Sister, lord Isen. I hope the road didn’t give you too much trouble?”

Isen doesn’t bother with pleasantries. Or even smiling.

The lizard chuckles. “The spare room has been prepared for you, sir. The boathouse has also been cleared for your use.”

Isen inclines his head to the lizard. “Thanks, Varan. Arol will handle things for a bit.”

Briar isn’t quite sure what to do when Isen wanders off, trailing around the scaffolded path; the stilts barely wobbling under his bulk and weight. Arol seems to have the luggage under control, and is chatting familiarly with the greeter.

Suddenly worried she’d be left behind in the skeletal village of planks and ladders, Briar follows after Isen, towards a lowset building.

She stops at the door he’d disappeared through, and gives it a tentative knock.

No response.

She tries again.

After a moment there’s a muffled groan. “Yes?”

Briar cracks the door open, suddenly apprehensive about bothering the lord. She wishes she knew the protocol for such situations.

The first thing she sees is Isen’s pack, discarded nearby. Then his jacket, in a heap on the floor.

Before she understands the implications of the shed layers, her eyes come to rest on his back.

It takes her a moment to work out what she’s seeing. That the building is open on one end, to accommodate the river. That Isen is in the water, leaning against a pier of some sort.

Then her eyes widen, and she becomes painfully aware of her intrusion. She might be used to seeing Isen’s top bare, but knowing that he’s in the process of bathing has the sight hitting differently.

She lets out a humiliating squeak of a noise, before turning hastily away. It is, however, too late to retreat.

Isen sounds tired, but not mad. “Did you need something?”

Briar closes her eyes. She can feel her whole face flush with embarrassment. ‘No. Sorry. I was just following you.’

“Right.” He’s still tired. But she can hear the amusement in his tone. “My apologies, I should have let you know where I was going."

‘It’s okay. I’ll wait outside.’

“You can stay, if you wanted. I’m sure you’d like to wash the mud off too.”

The suggestion winds her. She fumbles with a response, blinking at her feet several times before shaking her head. ‘I’ll wait until you’re done.’

She shuts the door firmly behind her, even as Isen’s wry laughter follows her outside.

---

None of the villages in the Ophidian Lowlands are large enough to need an inn. There's simply not enough travel to the region to warrant accommodation. The closest thing the Lower Twin has is a spare room in the Elder’s house.

It’s a stark place, furnished with a single bed and wardrobe, and dimly lit by the light of the doorway. Varan, The Lower Sister’s leader, had freshened the room up with clean bedsheets and some dried flowers in a vase.

Briar eyes the single bed, warily.

‘Where is Arol staying?’

“With a friend. They don’t have enough room for,” Isen gestures to his tail, “me, though. So, I stay with Varan.”

‘And where am I staying?’

“Here. The bed is large enough for two, if you wanted to share.” Isen frowns. “Next time we’ll bring you a hammock. Most Lowlanders use them. Sleeping off the ground keeps the water out.”

Briar’s not sure what her face is doing, but Isen takes one look at her, and backtracks. “We could also track down Arol. See if his friend has room for another. If not, I imagine somebody has a spare hammock somewhere...”

Briar’s stomach knots with anxiety. Torn between imposing on a stranger and a lizard she barely knows, or potentially sharing a bed with Isen. The Serpent; reviled by the Pilgrims. And more pertinently, an unwed male. She really wishes she’d stayed at Riversreach.

She bites her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, and pulls herself together. ‘No. I don’t want to stay with a stranger.’ She steps into the bedroom. Gives the bed a wide berth as she lowers herself to the ground. ‘I’ll sleep on the floor.’

Isen frowns. “It’ll be uncomfortable.”

She shrugs. ‘I’ve slept on the floor my whole life. I will be fine.’ She’s not entirely honest. Technically she’s slept in a ditch lined with hay and fur. It’s moderately better than sleeping on a hard surface.

“Seriously, Legs. We’re close to the water. It will be much colder in the small hours. There’s no shame in sharing. If you’re worried about modesty, I can keep my hands to myself.”

He’s not wrong about the cold. Just sitting on the floor gives her an idea of how uncomfortable the night will be. Perhaps she shouldn’t brush him off so quickly. Not that she’s in a hurry to share with him. But it might be worth considering the option more carefully. Looking past the scandal of the notion.

She’s never slept with a man before. Never even slept close to one. In New Haven it had been forbidden for her to be even near a man who wasn’t family. Women had been watched closely, to ensure they weren’t cavorting with strangers, or breaking the rules of modesty.

The people in Riversreach are freer with their touch. Briar didn’t know what to make of it at first. Had thought of the other servants as rude or indecent before realising that the Ophidians lived by entirely different rules. Seeing everyone else share light touches – bumped shoulders, brushed arms – is one of the main reasons she’s hadn’t been quite so put off when Isen had displayed these tendencies.

But sharing a bed?

She’s mortified that Isen would even suggest such a thing. Bed sharing is for family. For spouses. Not whatever she and Isen were. Servant and lord. Employer and employee.

She shakes her head, firm, and begins to make herself comfortable. Her coat and boots are set out to dry and she uses her pack as a pillow. It’s only got clothes in it, so it works well enough.

Isen lets out an exaggerated sigh. He sets his own clothes out to dry before closing the door and engulfing the room in darkness. “The offer remains if you change your mind.”

She scoffs at the suggestion, but without the light there’s no obligation to sign a reply.

Still, listening to Isen climb into bed fills her with envy. She’d manage well enough, but that doesn’t stop her from wishing for a blanket. Wishing she had the nerve to even ask for one. And though she staunchly tries to ignore the thought, it keeps resurfacing throughout the night. She keeps wondering how warm it would be, sharing the bed with Isen. And how long she could wait until he withdrew his offer to share.

---

Wisps of conversation drift past Briar, barely registering, as she glares down at her drink. Her tongue wants to recoil out of her mouth, but she still sips at it, knowing that the coffee has something of an energising effect on people.

Isen had been right, of course. Not that she’d admit it. She’d slept fitfully last night, waking every hour or so. Her back had ached upon rising. Some movement helps her body loosen, but does nothing to banish the bags under her eyes, or the cloudiness to her thoughts.

The coffee doesn’t help. It just makes her jumpier. More likely to flinch when somebody bumps into her, and sets her heart pounding at the slightest of exertions. She concentrates so hard on staying present and focused that she barely has any awareness to spare towards Isen and their companions.

Still, she takes in her surroundings with muted interest. Between the light of the sun and the guided tour Varan gives them, she’s able to paint a clearer picture of life in the Sisters.

Built above the silt and reeds, the Lower Sister is a fishing village. They have the most established dock in the Lowlands, and receive what little trade makes it to the region. Most interestingly to Briar, the wooden buildings aren’t permanent; able to be taken apart and carried to higher ground in the case of severe flooding. In this part of the marsh, wood is scarce, and is treated as such.

They cross the river at midday. The currents have settled enough for Varan to pole them over on a flat raft. Then they hike.

The Upper Sister is located atop the steep cliff that cradles the far side of the Ophidia. A trail has been hewn into the cliff face, but the climb is still arduous. Briar is panting by the time they reach the top. Then her breath is stolen entirely by the view.

She’d been too focused on the climb to note the height they’d gained, but with the trail finally below her, she’s able to take in her surroundings.

The entirety of the sister village stretches beneath them. She’s struck by just how small the settlement really is. The marsh extends behind it, gradually transitioning into a thicker swamp, and eventually climbing up into the highlands, emerging as the forest.

Varan catches her staring, and gives her a smile. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

She nods.

Briar tries not to let her mind wander as much during their tour of the Upper Sister. Many of the buildings are sturdy and permanent, made from brick, with some even incorporating the surrounding outcrops of stone. The Upper is reserved for buildings that can’t be dismantled or easily relocated. There are workshops of several kinds – a forge, a kiln – and even a handful of shop fronts.

Isen listens politely as Varan regales him with the finer details, pausing occasionally to ask a question. The focus of the tour is mostly on the plans in place during the thaw, and discussion of storage, rations, and evacuation procedures.

Briar is happy for him to take the lead in conversation. Thankfully he doesn’t seem intent on forcing her interactions. Appears to read her detached mood. At least until lunch time.

They’re treated to some kind of crayfish. The dish could rival the meals served at Riversreach – seasoned masterfully, and cooked to perfection. She and Isen have been served greenery with their food, while Arol and Varan eat only meat. Briar takes her time, picking carefully at the crustacean.

Isen makes several comments in her direction, and she doesn’t process that he’s even speaking to her until he leans into view and signs her name.

She blinks. ‘Yes?’

‘Are you okay?’

She’d been staring into space after finishing her food. It hadn’t taken long – she'd been ravenous after the day’s exercise.

She forces a smile. ‘Fine. Why?’

Isen frowns. ‘You haven’t been talking. Listening.’

She flushes, caught out. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’

Isen stares her down, brows raised in exasperation.

She looks away, chastened. ‘I’m a little tired. Yesterday was a long hike.’ (Walk. Travel)

“Uhuh,” he says, deadpan, and bringing to Briar’s attention that the prior conversation had been entirely silent.

Arol and Varan tactfully ignore the interaction.

It’s close to sunset when they finish in the Upper Sister. Briar is feeling spent and overwhelmed by the time they make it down the cliff. Her muscles are jellied from exertion, and her mind is foggy from fatigue. So tired, she is, that when stepping down from the pier to the barge, she doesn’t brace for the wobble of the raft.

Briar yelps as she loses her footing, certain she’s about to fall face first onto the wood, or worse – into the water.

Someone grips her upper arm. Pulls her back firmly enough to steady her.

“I’ve got you.”

Briar takes a second to recompose herself. Still, she’s quite shaken when she looks up at Isen.

He’s standing far too close – practically flush with Briar’s back – but for once she doesn’t care.

‘Thank you,’ her fingers tremble as she signs.

The corners of his mouth twitch upwards. “You’re welcome.”

She doesn’t speak much on the way back. Not that she’d spoken, or rather, communicated, much before. But now the weight of embarrassment stiffens her body. She can’t lie about her state anymore, not when there’d been so blatant a display of her ineptitude.

Her brooding must be noticeable, because Isen sighs over dinner. Reaches out to ruffle her hair.

The action snaps her out of her miserable stupor.

“Don’t fret so much. Missing your landing is hardly the worst thing to happen on that barge.”

Arol snorts from his side of the table. “Pryden has fallen off at least twice.”

Briar gapes at Arol. Struck with the image of graceful, arrogant Pryden, with his dagger sharp quips and lingering eyes. Falling off a barge.

“You boys never could handle your drink,” Varan murmurs with a smile.

Isen’s face crinkles. “We can handle them fine. Just not that swill you brew down here.”

Arol stays late, reminiscing with Varan about some of their drunken escapades from older days. But when the sun sets and the fire burns low, Isen stretches and gives Briar a meaningful look.

“I think it’s time we turn in.”

Somehow Briar had been too tired to remember the bed situation. It comes back to her now.

They both say their goodnights before shuffling into the room and closing the door behind them. Then there’s silence.

Briar stares at the ground, trying to hide her nerves. She flinches when Isen’s arm shoots out, barring her path.

“You’re sleeping in the bed tonight.”

She recoils. ‘What? But I’m-’

“You are not fine. You look dreadful. You’re taking the bed, and that’s an order.”

Panic begins to fill Briar at his commanding tone. To her humiliation, her eyes start to blur with tears. She hasn’t cried in months- and she has no intention of crying now. She turns her face away. Dashes the moisture. Holds herself stiff until the emotion passes.

Isen softens. “Legs. I’ll take the floor tonight. Okay? I’m not going to touch you without your permission. I won’t even look at you if you like. But I cannot have my aid stumbling around like the undead. You will sleep in the bed tonight.”

She doesn’t know what to say. How to refute him. The dim lighting gives an intimate air to their stare down, and it’s not long before Briar loses her nerve and drops her gaze.

‘Is this... allowed?’

He tilts his head. “Is what allowed?”

She gestures to the bed.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Briar has to think on that question. The situation feels so wrong to her. How does Isen not notice it? How does he remain so unaffected?

‘You’re more important than I.’

Isen blinks. He hadn’t expected an answer quite like that.

“I... suppose. In title, yes. But we’re both people. Why should lineage entitle one person to the bed and the other to the floor?”

Briar doesn’t know. She’d never thought to question these things before.

Isen seems to be processing her discomfort, considering it closely.

“The Pilgrims practice Conservatism, right?”

Briar blinks at the sudden turn in conversation. It’s a relief to focus on something other than the space between them, and the bed looming before her. But she hadn’t expected to be discussing religion.

‘Not quite. We migrated away from the mainland because the elders disagreed with several of its practices.’ (Migrated; travel, move. Practice; think, act, do.)

“Which ones?”

‘They believed Conservatism wasn’t modest enough. That the Patriarchs were too liberal. That changes within the church would lead to the loosening of values.’ She doesn’t care for the details, but can recite them, nonetheless.

Isen winces. He’s heard the rhetoric before. “Did you and Stella practice it?”

Briar nods. ‘It was called New Conservatism. And yes. Everyone did. Anyone who spoke out was...’ her hands slow and still. It takes her a moment to refocus. ‘Everyone did.’

There’s another silence. This one more thoughtful. Considering. Before Isen slithers a few inches closer. “I think that you are experiencing a bit of culture shock. It’s not unusual to those who move from home to live in foreign parts.”

Briar shakes her head, disbelieving. ‘These aren’t foreign parts.’

“No? Are you not experiencing a sudden language barrier? Surrounded by completely different styles of living?”

She shakes her head again, still in denial. She doesn’t like the way the conversation is turning. Doesn’t like how Isen is bringing it back to her. Personalising things again.

“New clothes, new job, different companions, different rules... I’m quite certain, Legs. But it’s okay.”

Briar sits heavily on the bed, taken off guard. ‘It’s not. It’s- I’m fine. There’s no problem. I can do this.’

He lowers himself before her. The naga equivalent of a crouch. “I know you can. I just want you to know that it’s okay to have doubts. To have questions. I went through something quite similar when I moved here.”

Her hands are pressed to her face. She peeks through her fingers.

Isen reads the question in her eyes and smiles. “It’s true. I was a mess. Completely embarrassed myself with my lack of knowledge. Can you imagine a lord who doesn’t know the number of settlements in his own lands? I had to hire Arol just to teach me about the area.” He leans back, offering another soft smile. “But that’s a story for another time.”

She senses his focus honing back on her. Braces herself for more scrutiny. More uncomfortable conversation. But he only sits at the foot of the bed.

“Rest. We have another big day tomorrow.”

They have another stare down, but her heart is no longer in it. Seated so close to him, she can’t stand to meet his gaze too long. Finally, she narrows her eyes at him, before staring pointedly at the ground.

He grins, raising his hands in surrender and slipping from the bed. “Of course.”

Only when he’s curled up at the foot of the bed, jacket draped insufficiently across his coils, does Briar relax. She slips her boots off, and lowers herself to the mattress. Gets comfortable beneath the blanket.

Her nose crinkles. The pillow smells like Isen.

“Goodnight,” Isen murmurs.

Briar hums a wordless reply, and falls swiftly into sleep.

#vaya writes #serving the serpent #monster romance #nagas

61 notes · View notes

inkrabbit · 2 years

Note

Can I request a Sodo ghoul x reader fanfic where idk maybe they wake up early and have to go to something or Sodo does but he’s so comfy cuddled up with the reader he doesn’t wanna move

The alarm you had set on your phone is what wakes you up, that annoying melody ruining whatever dream you were in. Your movements are slow as you tap over the top of the bed, finally hitting your phone and swiping the icon so the alarm shuts off. It’s too early for this. Why did you let Sodo talk you into staying up to watch one more episode? You knew it was never just “one more episode” because you would say the exact same lie right after the one you two watched had ended. His laptop is still on the bed a few inches away from the edge. You’re surprised one of you hadn’t kicked it off in the middle of the night.

“Alright, time to get up,” you yawn out. Sodo’s still got his face buried in your neck, his hair covering his face. “I know you can hear me.”

“Mm...” Still, he only moves closer to you, nuzzling his nose against your skin. “Just five more minutes.”

“You know it’s never “five more minutes” with you.” You try to move and get up. That normally works. Without you in bed, Sodo’s more inclined to start getting dressed. But this morning is different and his hold around your waist tightens, caging you against his chest. You should’ve known this was going to happen.

“No.” He sounds like a child, pouting when you turn to look at him. He gives you just enough room so you can turn over, that pout turning into a smile when you settle down next to him. You bring a hand up, running it through his hair and ridding him of any knots that snag your fingers.

“You have practice, and I have duties I gotta get to,” you tell him softly.

“C’mon, just a little longer. I’m happy right where I am right now.” His lips press against yours, one of his hands sliding down, fingers curling underneath the back of your thigh and pulling it over his waist. You know what he’s doing and you hate that it’s working. Every touch and every kiss is so soft, a stark contrast to his normal demeanor.

“You’re insufferable.” And still, you let him kiss down your jaw and to your neck. It’s not the same hot, open-mouthed kisses you’re familiar with. They’re still soft, butterfly kisses that make your heart flutter.

“We got time,” he tells you softly. “Dunno why you always worry.”

“I’m worried we’re gonna be late and get in trouble.” He lets out a soft hum, but he doesn’t make any moves to get up. His lips still travel across any skin he can find, and all the while your hands run through his long hair.

You finally roll him over, straddling his waist. That smile he gives you is so genuine, like he’s actually won as he holds onto your waist. You keep your hands planted on his chest as you lean down, and the kiss you drag him into is heavy. It’s enough to draw him in and keep him distracted, that soft little groan from him ringing in your ears.

And just like that, you pull back, the poor ghoul still trying to chase you as you swing your leg over and slowly get off the bed. He looks like a deer caught in headlights for a moment, lips parted as he stares at you.

“C’mon. We gotta get up.” You smile when he just lets out a whine, rubbing his face.

“Fine. You win.” He slowly when he finally sits up and you move back so he can swing his legs over the edge of the bed to stand. Still, he wraps an arm around your waist and draws you flush against him, nose brushing against yours as he gets close to your face. “But I expect some extra attention throughout the day.”

“I’ll see if I can make time for you.” He gives you one last kiss before he lets you go. You take your time getting ready, picking your clothes out from underneath Sodo’s.

“Hey.” You let out a hum as you hear his voice. He stands behind you, holding that signature inverted pentacle necklace by its chain. There’s a small smile on his face as he holds it out to you.

“You want me to wear that?” you ask softly. It was something you had never seen off of him, claiming it was for good luck. Still, he rolls his eyes.

“No, I want you to look at how pretty it is,” he scoffs. “Yes, I want you to wear it!”

“What about you?”

“I’m a big ghoul. I’ll be fine.” He looks you up and down. “Really… I just wanna see you wear it. Just for today.”

You can’t keep yourself from smiling as you finally give in. He hooks the chain around your neck for you, turning you so he can admire it.

“Think it looks better on you,” he tells you softly, but he smiles against your lips when you bring him in for another kiss.

“I’ll take good care of it,” you promise. He mumbles out a soft “I know” before he leaves you alone to get ready.

Though you did miss being in the arms of your ghoul, you had to admit: everything was going right today. One of the nicer siblings helped you with your duties, and the new part you had to study had come as almost second nature. You had hoped Sodo was having a good day like you were.

Until your phone went off and you saw the screen lit up with the message.

Sodo: I BROKE 3 OF MY STRINGS IN LIKE 5MIN

#request #sodo #sodo ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #sodo x gn!reader #gn!reader

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divinegrey · 2 years

Note

hcs with the val ladies of your choice for some comfort 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 any type of comfort pls

also hope you're doing lovely <33

-diamond anon

i like you so much that i diverged from headcanons to ficlets. hope that's okay! i was feeling the need to comfort the agents, so that's what i went with!

BLEEDING RADIANCE | FADE, REYNA, SAGE W/ F!READER

words: 2300 warnings: depictions of radiance overload, hurt/comfort

FADE

Your whistle softens as you approach the door to Fade’s room. Rapping your knuckles twice against the metal, you shift your weight onto your back leg, hands going to your hips to wait. It’s not terribly early in the morning, and Fade is usually awake around this time.

Which is strange, because she’s talking an awfully long time to respond. With your face pinching into a frown, you jiggle the doorknob, pushing the lever up and down. Nothing in response, and you’re about to shout her name through the metal when you notice just the barest hint of… echoes?

Your ears catch the trail end of a whisper; you shoot your eyes downward to the slit between the floor and the door, eyes widening at the reddish gray tendrils reaching through. One of them caresses the rubber of your sole, as if beckoning you into the room.

“Oh, shit.”

You’ve never been more thankful Fade slipped the override code to her door to you late one night.

Punching in the keys, you wait with a furiously pounding heart until the lock clicks and you can finally push the handle down. The door swings open and you’re thrust into a dim room, only a single lamp on, but even that bulb has tendrils stretching over it.

Curled up on the floor near the wall is none other than Fade herself, her hands clutched behind her head and her entire body folded in on itself. The organ thumping inside your chest twists up at the sight of it, of the pure agony that Fade is gritting her teeth against.

You close the door, watching seemingly as the shadows bleed out of Fade’s hands and neck, the parts of her skin that are exposed rapidly shifting like ink moving over her body. Moving on instinct leads to sliding onto the floor beside her, gathering her up in your arms until you’re sitting against the wall with the bounty hunter in your lap.

“You’re fine, you’re okay, I’m right here,” you say, hoping your words slice through the ever overlapping echoes and whispers that seem to curdle from the shadows themself. You see just a hint of Fade’s face— the shadows pour red and black trails from her eyes, the very same ones you see her summon on the battlefield against her enemies.

Even she can’t escape the Nightmare.

One of her hands reaches for yours, and you curl your fingers around hers. They’re shaking, practically vibrating in your grip, but you bring her fingers to your lips and utter comforting words. You’ve heard of how her radiance bleeds out of her, a consequence of summoning the nightmares too often. She just came back from a mission…

Nevermind. That’s not the point.

You hold Fade tight, the pressure forcing her body into a normal rate of breathing. After having seen these moments before, you know what to do, and you couldn’t be more thankful for when Fade makes the first, soft sound since you came into the room.

It’s simply hi, whispered so quietly not even the silence of the room could sink its claws into it.

“Hey,” your reply is gentle. Rubbing soothing circles on her back, you smile. “You back with us?”

Jerkily, Fade nods her head. You spread your legs, giving her more control over where she sits as she comes to. Her hand drops back to hold herself up, and you see the way trickling shadows still bleed from the tear ducts of her eyes.

Curses come out of her mouth as she leans forward. You let her think, and she turns to you, her hand still covering her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you say instantly. “Did I help?”

Fade nods simply.

“Then I’m glad I was here. I’ve got your six, whether we have guns in our hands or not.” Giving her another rub on the shoulder, Fade reaches her hand and curls her palm over yours. Only then do you see the grateful smile on her face, followed by the resolute inhale. Leaning forward, you cup the back of Fade’s head and press a kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you.”

Her head curls into your neck, her fingers gripping your shirt. “Thank you.”

You grin. “Anytime.”

REYNA

You know Reyna is burning out when the tattoos along her arm are steaming. Yet, you do not say a word, because the look of concentration on the Empress’s face is more terrifying than anything else. Instead, you keep an eye on her as the training session within the Danger Room prolongs.

It’s a standard, run of the mill training regimen, meant to be aggressive to keep the instincts of the agent sharpened, but Reyna is losing her focus, and you have a pretty succinct reason to suspect why this is happening.

Small trails of steam curl off the searing neon pink glow of her tattoo as Reyna summons another leer to blind the enemy dummies before shooting them all down with a horrifyingly accurate precision.

But when she goes for another leer summoning, her arm cramps up, her wrist pulling down. Reyna’s face pinches up, the slightest expression of pain coming onto her features as she pulls her arm into herself. Before you can even attempt to shut anything down, Reyna tries once more, and this proves to be a fatal error on her part.

Pink light lashes up her arms, fracturing away from her tattoos and into her skin like the veins of her blood rushing through her body. It continues all the way up to her neck, to her face, where her once luminescent pink irises have now turned into a full-bodied glow, the same way her eyes are when Reyna is knee deep into her Empress mode.

The determination burns in her body like a wild-fire. She stumbles, but still, she raises her gun to shoot more dummies that spawn from the projectors with only one hand, bodying the full weight of the recoil from the Vandal. The tips of her fingers grow translucent, a wave of pinkish light cascading through her body in undulations, like she’s trying to go invisible but can’t bring herself to do it fully. The only way you know she isn’t doing it herself is the way her entire face is screaming in pain.

Enough is enough.

You slam the button to turn off the Danger Room’s current protocol, prompting the simulation to fade away in an instant. You step out of the control room and walk over, just in time for Reyna to drop the gun and for her to stumble into you.

“I’ve got you,” you say, an etching of surprise in your words because Reyna’s skin feels closer to fire than anything else. With her weight completely on yours, you lower her to the ground and into your lap. “I’ve got you.”

You’ve never seen the Empress struggle like this before. Her Radiance bleeding through completely, moving over her body in ways. Her tattoos are bright, as are her eyes, but her body is trying to enshrine itself in translucent darkness. Trying to being the key words here. You rack your brain for any possible solutions, and you can only come up with one.

You know she’s got a pair of sharp teeth in there.

“Take it,” you say, holding out your forearm to her. “I know you need to, just take as much as you need.”

Reyna’s eyes flicker to yours (or do they? It’s hard to tell). “Can’t— I’ll take—” her nails dig into your skin. “Too much.”

“I know how to stop you if you do, just please take it.”

That’s seemingly all the permission she needs.

Her other hand grips your forearm, nails breaking the skin with ease. You hiss at the puncturing, at the blood that starts to leak. Reyna inhales, fumes rising from your skin and rushing into her nostrils. Parts of your soul, you realize, as you feel a faint fogginess build in the distance. Yet, your focus is solely on the woman in your lap, as she feeds from you.

Her body materializes slowly, the shimmering bits fading away. The light flaring in her veins recedes, and the tattoos radiant glow calms into their natural resting state of black. Finally, her eyes return to normal, as normal as a glowing pink iris could be.

And still, she feeds.

Knowing when enough is enough, you push her head back with your other hand, breaking the tethering enough to pull your other arm free. Adjusting her so that she’s laying on her back, you hover over her with a smile.

“Someone needed to eat,” you remark, prompting Reyna to snort.

She stares at the ceiling for a few moments, and you simply rest your hand over her heart, feeling the organ pound away. After some time, Reyna looks at you.

“Thank you, cariño,” she says. “I see now I should’ve taken more time to rest after my mission yesterday.”

“Maybe. But you’re forgiven. As long as you come with me to the break room to grab some food,” you say, holding out your pinky finger. Reyna glances at it, and though you see the way she almost calls you childish for it, she locks her pinky with yours. You grin. “Good. Now come on.”

SAGE

The infirmary feels far more cold than you’re used to it being. It’s a space always kept warm, but not sweltering, especially during the colder months of the year where some of the agents can be more temperature prone (like poor Neon, so used to the weather of the Philippines, compared to Sova, who goes on runs in shorts in the winter without breaking a sweat).

So you’re a little concerned when you see some frost on the ground where frost shouldn’t be.

“Sage?” You glance around the space, and when you don’t see her, you step over the frost and further into the infirmary. It’s an L-shaped space; when you turn the bend, you see the healer sitting on one of the beds, her back turned to you. You exhale. “There you are. Must’ve not heard me when I come in. There’s a bunch of ice on the ground, I think the AC unit is— oh.”

Upon coming closer, you realize why Sage hadn’t moved.

Her arms rest in her lap, bent at the elbow, and iced over with a teal sheen. You can hardly see the movement of her breathing, her eyes unfocused. You frown; you’ve seen this before, but never to this scale, where the ice is crawling down her forearms and up to her elbows. Sage’s radiance is overflowing, too much of it happening all at once.

Moving quickly, you turn up the heating in the room before gathering some blankets from a cupboard. Returning to Sage, you wrap a blanket around her shoulders. Her skin is icy to the touch, and when you cup her face, it takes a moment for her to register your presence.

“There you are,” you whisper softly when Sage’s deep brown eyes find yours. “I’m right here. Let’s get you warmed up and get this ice off your hands.”

You sit down beside her on the bed, moving one of her hands into your lap. Examining it, you see that the ice from her radiant abilities has created a later over her hands. She must’ve been overworking herself, healing too much. Sage is the go-to person on base for when someone is hurt, but even she crumbles.

Pressing on her forearm, you crack the ice. It’s thick, but not nearly impenetrable. It flakes off with the pressure and it falls to the ground. You rub circles on her forearms, hoping to bring sensation back to her skin as you work up to her fingers.

As you do, Sage leans her head onto your shoulder. You turn and kiss her forehead.

“I’m right here. You’ll be okay,” you say, pulling her thumb to crack the ice at the base. You pull it off before working the rest of the way around her palm. Little by little, you chip away until her arm is freed. You wrap it up in the blanket before working on the next one, starting the same process over again until, at long last, both of her arms are freed from her own ice.

You bundle her up in thick blankets until nothing but Sage’s head is exposed. The color has returned to her cheeks and you stroke her hair gently.

“How are you feeling?” You ask. Sage takes a long inhale.

“Better. Thank you,” Sage answers, pulling the blankets tighter. “I always do seem to forget how uncomfortable it is to experience that.”

“Radiance burnout is no joke. I’m glad I was here to stop it before it got worse,” you reply, recalling the time you’d seen Sage’s entire body freeze over. That wasn’t a pleasant experience, and it isn’t one you wish to relive anytime soon. You lean down and kiss her cheek. “Please call me or one of the others if you feel close to burnout again. There are so many of us here to help you.”

Sage, a woman with so much responsibility on her shoulders, doesn’t seem keen on the idea. Yet, she nods in agreement anyway. And frankly, given her stubbornness, it’s all you can ask for. You shift on the bed, snuggling her to provide warmth for as long as she needs.

The world can wait.

~~~~~ A/N: to knockout anon, i'm sorry this took a while! life got in the way, but i hope you like this <3

#fade x reader #reyna x reader #sage x reader #fade #reyna #sage #fade valorant #reyna valorant #sage valorant #fade headcanons #reyna headcanons #sage headcanons #valorant x reader #valorant #valorant fanfiction #valorant imagines

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chaotic-super · 8 months

Text

Live With Me - Chapter 19

Read it on AO3 here!

Kara leans back into the pillows as she watches Lena pace across the room, passing the foot of the bed over and over again.

“I just don’t understand why they won’t let us just go back to National City,” Lena complains, her voice hushed because the last thing she wants is for the infamous Cat Grant to know how much she can whine when she wants to.

“I know, baby.” Kara commiserates. “I want to get back there too, but if they don’t think it’s safe, then there’s not much we can do about it. It’s just a matter of waiting and finding out what we can whenever someone with information comes around.”

Lena sighs, her hands tangling in her own hair and pushing it back from her face. “How do we even know we can trust the CIA? Maybe they were in on the plan and this is just their way of getting rid of us.”

Kara fights the urge to roll her eyes. “Lena, baby, I love you but you’re spiralling. Come cuddle with me so we can work through all those scary thoughts in your brain together.”

Lena resists her charm, not looking in her direction so she doesn’t get tempted. “No, we have to cover our asses. We need a phone. Maybe we can sneak out and find one somewhere. I bet if we found a grocery store and asked to use their phone, they would let us. We can call CatCo and get through to Nia.”

Huffing a little, Kara pulls herself from under the scratchy sheets and pads over to Lena, her bare feet sticking to the floor in a way that makes her want to disappear up her own butthole with how gross it is. At least it’ll give them something to do later. They’re bound to get bored. She rests her hands against Lena’s forearms and stands her way so she’s forced to stop pacing.

“Lena, we’re fine. We’re ok. Well, not ok, but we will be. The CIA are completely separate from the FBI and the government. They have different goals as organizations. You know that. They’re protecting us, and I’m sure they’ll come and explain everything to us soon enough. They only brought us here last night and it’s still early. Cat isn’t even awake yet. Everything will be fine. You just have to have a little faith.”

“Faith hasn’t really been on our side much lately though, has it?”

“It has to be at some point though.”

Lena looks up at Kara with disbelief clouding her features, but Kara sees through it. Shining in those emerald eyes is something she loves to see. Hope.

Kara presses her lips to her forehead, wincing as her split lip makes contact with her skin, but she doesn’t let that stop her from kissing her a second time on the tip of her nose, loving the way she scrunches it in faux annoyance. “You might not have faith but I do, so just trust in me and I’ll lend you some of my faith.”

“I’ll always trust you.”

A head peeks around the door and makes Lena jump. She wasn’t expecting to see anyone show up in her peripheral vision, so she can’t help how a striking red blush crawls up her neck and cheeks at the thought of Cat knowing how soft and mushy she is, even though she’s already seen it all before.

“Well, if it isn’t you two and your infuriating need to be so close together that your skin will one day fuse and make you one giant lesbian.”

Kara’s head whips around to her boss. “Good morning, Ms Grant. How did you sleep?”

“Terrible. I would like the bed for a few hours as long as I have verbal confirmation that you didn’t do anything sacrilegious in it last night.” She strolls right past them and perches on the edge of it carefully, not yet willing to move and sit on it properly, just in case.

Kara shakes her head. “Uh, no. We just cuddled.”

Cat then proceeds to climb into the bed, wincing at the scratch of the sheets both Kara and Lena had to put up with last night and nuzzles into one of the pillows. She flippantly waves her hand in the air at them, her eyes closed. “You can let yourselves out.”

“Hold on.” Lena frowns. “I know you’re tired, but we need to discuss everything.”

With a hefty sigh, Cat flops onto her back, her eyes still closed. “No, we don’t. The CIA lady with the moustache told me she’d come by this afternoon to discuss everything with us when I saw her last night. Just relax until then, watch some TV maybe. Just leave me in peace.”

“You didn’t think to tell us that?” Lena baulks.

She doesn’t get a response though because Kara grabs her by the arm softly and leads her out of the room while Cat burrows herself down into the bed and completely ignores them in favour of trying to get some decent sleep. That couch is not comfortable.

Lena finds out just how uncomfortable the couch is when she throws herself down on it frantically, wincing at how lumpy it is the second she lands. “Ok, I feel bad for trying to stop her from sleeping now; this is awful. I’m actually shocked she didn’t wake us up to kick us out of bed.”

Kara shrugs, sitting down beside her and wrapping her arm around her shoulder to pull her closer. “She wouldn’t do that. She’s a lot of things, but she’s a softie at heart. She wouldn’t hurt a fly really, not unless it either has a good story or owes her money anyway.”

Lena croaks out a chuckle and nuzzles into Kara’s neck. “I was so worried about you.”

“Likewise. I was so scared about what they had done to you after they took me to another building and tied me to a chair.”

“What actually happened to you?” Lena asks.

“I met the president, and he wanted me to hand over all of my proof against the government to him, presumably to destroy it. He was behind the awful plans they had. He signed off on it all and didn’t want the word getting out. When I refused, he wasn’t too happy with me. He had two guards, sergeants actually. One broke the pen you got me as a gift, just to be cruel, and I was pretty upset about that, but I was admittedly more upset when he hit me in the face.”

Lena’s jaw tightens. “Then what?”

“They put me in a car and took me to another building. It looked a bit like an office building. They took me into a room where I was tied to a chair, and they hit me again before leaving me there alone. That was the scariest part. All I had was my thoughts and I just kept imagining what they would do to you. I was so scared, Lena. I was scared for you and Cat.”

Lena pulls Kara closer to her. Leaning back into the arm of the couch and pulling the blonde on top of her so her head rests beneath her chin. “And then they brought Cat to you?”

Kara nods, the movement sending Lena’s chin wobbling. “Yeah, then they brought Cat in and they tied her to another chair. They didn’t hurt her though. We just sat there for a while trying to figure out how to get out, and eventually, I realized that I could break my chair and get out that way. Cat picked the locks of our handcuffs, and then we started climbing out the window. We figured that leaving through one of the rooms upstairs would be safer than leaving through the door of the room we were in, but we were still part way up the side of the building when the CIA arrived and took us out of there.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Me too. What happened to you?”

Lena presses several kisses to the top of Kara’s head, needing the few seconds she earns herself to devise a good way to tell Kara what she went through. “I met General Lane.”

“Does he smell as bad as he looks?”

“What?”

“He looks like the kind of guy who has terrible body odour.”

“He does but I didn’t notice, so I guess that since he was sitting on the other side of the hotel conference room from me, I couldn’t tell. That room does have good ventilation though, so the jury’s still out on that one.”

Kara snickers and her laughs rumble through her body and against Lena’s chest, making her giggle too. “He definitely smells. I just get that vibe.”

“Me too. I would have paid more attention to it, but he was too busy trying to get me to buy into his schemes. I guess that he thought that since I bought out Lord Industries and that I’m a Luthor, I would be willing to do a whole host of very illegal and immoral things with him. I went along with it to try and buy us more time and to try and get more information on all of the plans. I made a deal with him that I would look over it all if he brought you and Cat to me so I could see that you’re alright, but before he could do that, the CIA came in and took me out of there.”

“It feels kind of anticlimactic, doesn’t it?” Kara asks, tilting her head up to look into Lena’s eyes. “We’ve gone through all that shit to try and bring these people down, then the CIA swoops in and takes them down in one day. It feels like we’ve been robbed of the chance to win after everything.”

Lena lets her eyes trail across the ceiling, particularly the water stain covering a large patch of it. “I guess so, and I’m sure I’ll feel that way later, but I’m just happy it is over for now. Well, I’ll be happy when we get confirmation from this so-called moustached lady that it is over.”

Kara gently scratches her nails over Lena’s arm, soothing her and smiling at the tiny sigh she manages to pull from the brunette’s lips. “Me too.”

Lena presses herself into Kara’s side as tightly as she can, more than a little afraid but unwilling to voice her concerns in front of a load of CIA agents. She’s not showing herself up like that. Not a chance in hell.

As she always does, Kara seems to just know. She always knows. She intertwines their fingers and grips onto her tightly, making a show of being afraid so she has an excuse to cling to Lena. Lena knows better though. She knows that Kara’s nervous but not terrified. It’s just a helicopter, after all.

They were flown into a CIA branch in Metropolis from the Motel this afternoon, where they spent a few hours reviewing their story and writing a written report of it all. Now they’re finally being allowed home, but the only private aircraft they would allow was a helicopter because, apparently, private jets are excessive. Cat tried to argue with them, but it didn’t get them anywhere, so here they are in a helicopter flying from Metropolis to National City, where they’ll land on top of the CatCo building.

Lena is sure she would be much better at this and much less afraid if it wasn’t so dark and they weren’t flying into the abyss, but she did insist on getting home tonight. She stands by that. She really wants to get home as soon as possible, and it’s definitely worth it, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not scared.

“How long will it take us to get to National City?” Kara asks through her headset.

“About an hour, just sit back and relax. We’ll be there in no time.” The co-pilot smiles warmly at her. “This is one of the safest forms of travel, you’re in good hands.”

Lena pipes up. “That’s true, but you don’t often see a helicopter in movies that doesn’t crash. It has a way of eating into your subconscious.”

The co-pilot laughs warmly. “That’s true, but I can assure you that this is nothing like in the movies.”

Lena nods and clings onto Kara a little more, tempted to try and climb into her lap to get away from the helicopter door. Kara is going the opposite way, trying to lean over Lena to take a look out of the window.

“Look at that view.” She marvels at the lights shining from all of the buildings in Metropolis and the way they are slowly lessening as they make their way out of the city.”

Cat stares out of her window. “It is a sight to behold. It’s no National City, but I must admit there’s a beauty to seeing it from up here.”

Lena wants to look but doesn’t dare, so she settles from slowly building up her courage throughout the rest of the flight, all so she can force herself to look out of the window for ten whole seconds when they get to National City and look out at the place that she calls home.

She manages it and has to say that even though she was horribly afraid the entire time, it was worth it. She’s glad she did it, and it’s a sight she’ll commit to her memory for as long as she can keep it preserved in her mind.

They land on CatCo’s helipad and get escorted inside, where a few more CIA agents are gathered in one of the conference rooms. A couple of them are in the lobby protecting the building, but none are roaming the halls. Kara figured that’s because they’ve already done a thorough sweep of the building and are satisfied that there’s no danger here.

They head right for Cat’s office, and when they get there, they see Nia spinning in lazy circles in Cat’s chair. She shoots up out of it when Cat clears her throat.

“Ms Grant, you’re back!”

“I am, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break my chair.” She saunters around her desk and shoos Nia out of the way so she can sit down.

Nia moves her attention over to Kara and Lena, but her eyes get caught on Kara’s face. “Oh no, you’ve been hurt.”

Kara nods softly. “I’ll be alright though. I’m sure it’ll heal in no time. How did everything go here? Were you ok?”

Nia looks at her with disbelief written across her face. “Was I ok? Kara, you were kidnapped by the government.”

“And you were in charge of a media company in the middle of one of the biggest stories we’ve ever told with nobody around to help you.”

Nia blushes, suddenly bashful. “I was ok. Franklin was a big help. I think I handled it pretty well. The FBI tried to barge their way in here, and by ‘tried’, I mean they did fully force their way in.”

“What?” Cat’s eyebrows practically raise into her hairline.

“Yeah, I just started a livestream and showed off their behaviour to the world. Soon enough, they were forced to admit that they didn’t have a warrant and were just being bullies while being broadcasted to the world. I then used that same broadcast to bring everyone’s attention to you guys and the way that those same people took you. It caused a lot of anger and worry for you guys, and I guess that attention got the CIA’s attention too. They arrived not long after with actual clearance and have been here ever since helping to clear up the mess that FBI made.”

Kara smiles and nudges Lena’s shoulder. “See, I told you to have faith.”

Lena ducks her head. “Yeah, you did.” She clears her throat when she realizes that Nia is watching them way too closely to be normal. “What?”

“You’re just so cute.”

“Oh, can I have my phone, Nia?” Kara asks.

“Yeah, I’ll go and get it. You want to call Alex?” Nia gets moving, talking to Kara over her shoulder.

Kara nods. “Yeah, I think she’d kill me if she found out she wasn’t the first person I called when getting back. That and she’s probably pretty worried.”

Lena takes the opportunity to sit down on the couch, and she leans forward to rest her head in her hands. “I’m ready to go home.”

Kara sits beside her, rubbing her hand up her back soothingly. “Me too. Is there anything we have to do here before we can go?”

Cat looks up from the laptop Nia was using. “I’ll handle everything. You two should talk to the agents and see if you need an escort or if you can just go. If you can, take my car. I won’t be leaving here tonight.”

“Are you sure, Ms Grant?” Kara looks up at her through furrowed brows. “You should rest too. You only got a few hours at the Motel.”

“I’m sure. I’ll try to get those agents out of my conference room and then sleep on the couch for a while. I’m far too restless to do anything good with myself at home though. It’s best I work for a while and get a handle on everything I can. I need that right now.”

Nia holds up their phones and keys triumphantly for a moment before setting them on the coffee table. “Here you go. You best call your sister, Kara.”

“I know. I’m actually surprised she’s not here, to be honest.” Kara’s heart sinks when she sees Nia grimace in response to her words. “What is it?”

Nia hums awkwardly for a minute, avoiding eye contact.

“Nia, just say it, you’re putting us even more on edge than we were before.” Lena raises a demanding eyebrow at her, her voice harsher than she means for it to be because of how tired and stressed she is.

Taking a deep breath, Nia comes out with it. “Alex is at your place. She has been staying there because the CIA had to go and search through your entire place to make sure it’s safe. She’s been tidying up after them since.”

Kara sags back into the couch, her head thrown over the back of it. “For fuck’s sake. Now we will have to redecorate again because the place feels gross.”

Lena sighs. “At least we know it’s safe now, and it’ll give us something to do on the weekends.”

“This is going to be hard to believe, but I like having lazy weekends that don’t include busting my ass painting.”

Snorting, Lena pushes herself up, ready to get going. Kara can call Alex on the way home. “You could’ve fooled me.”

Alex squeezes Kara as tightly as she can, completely ignoring the way she’s wheezing because she can’t breathe thanks to the tight grip she’s got on her little sister. “I’m so happy you’re alive.”

“Me too, but I don’t think I will be for much longer if you don’t let go.” Kara pushes back on Alex’s shoulders in an attempt to get her off her long enough to get a couple of good, deep breaths in.

“Sorry.” Alex says, letting go of her. “I was just worried about you. I thought they were going to kill you.”

Kara looks down at her feet for a moment before taking a shaky breath. “You and me both. It wasn’t a situation I’d like to be in ever again.”

Alex’s eyes widen dramatically. “Yes, I would very much appreciate it if you could avoid ever getting into a situation like that again, please and thank you.”

Lena chuckles dryly. “I will do my best to stop her if she tries, believe me, this hasn’t been a walk in the park.”

Kara presses her lips together tightly and Lena raises an eyebrow at her questioningly. “Got something to say?”

Puffing out a nervous breath, Kara tries to mask her increased breathing by walking off towards the kitchen. “I’m going to go and get a drink. Does anyone want one?”

“Kara, you can’t avoid us. Say what you want to say first.” Lena insists, catching her arm as she tries to pass her.

Licking her dry lips, Kara steels herself for whatever reaction she’s going to get. “I’m not sorry it all happened.”

Lena frowns at her, her eyebrows pinching and her lips angling down. “What do you mean?”

Dropping her shoulders, Kara continues. “I’m not sorry I dug into it and I would do it again. We saved a lot of lives by bringing it to light. That plan to start experimenting on humans was awful and I could never live with myself if I just turned a blind eye to something like that. I would make the same choice over again and if I ever come across anything like it in the future, I have to speak up. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Lena can’t be mad at that, especially when Kara is speaking so passionately.

“I never want to put any of you in danger and when I started this case, I didn’t bring everyone into the loop right away when I should’ve. Maybe that would have helped or stopped some of the bad stuff from happening, but overall, I’d still have to take the case. I’ll always take the case. I’ll just take more precautions with it.”

Lena tugs on Kara’s sleeve, prompting her to stop rambling. “We know you will and we’ll always support you. We just also want you to be safe. We want to know that no matter what, we’ll be here and we’ll keep you as safe as we can. You just have to let us in.”

“I second that.” A voice calls out from behind Lena, startling the brunette and causing her to almost leap into Kara’s arms. “Sorry, Lena.” Kelly walks out, a glass of water in hand. She passes it to Kara. “I heard you say that you want a drink so I got you one. I was helping Alex tidy up.”

Kara smirks as she looks between Alex and Kelly. “Thank you. So, have you guys been here together the whole time?”

“Yeah, well, I was with Alex when she got the call about the CIA being here so I decided to come along and keep her company,” Kelly explains, taking Alex’s hand.

Lena has now recovered from the Kelly-sized jump scare and is now smirking at Alex, who is redder than a ripe tomato. “I bet you did.”

“Anyway, we’re both just happy you’re ok and we came to make sure nothing got damaged here. It was just a bit messy since they had to sweep the place for bugs and weapons.” Alex rushes out. “We should probably go.”

Kara shakes her head at that. “Nonsense. It’s late. You guys can take the guest room.”

“Thank you, Kara. That would be much appreciated. It’s late and I hate driving at night.”

“I could drive.” Alex argues weakly.

“I’m sure you could, honey, but I want to stay,” Kelly says and to Kara’s utter astonishment, Alex agrees with a singular nod.

Lena looks equally as baffled but also extraordinarily amused. “Now that’s settled, you’re free to just relax now. We really appreciate you guys coming over and doing that for us. We’re really tired though, so we’re going to head to bed and deal with everything in the morning. You can either go to bed or stay up and watch TV or something if you want to.”

Kelly smiles at them warmly. “You’re welcome. I’m glad we could help. We’ll probably head to bed soon too. Which guest room are Alex and I staying in?”

Alex flushes again as Kelly outs them as only needing one room, her ears ablaze.

“I’ll show you, follow us,” Lena says, directing Kara to head for the stairs with a hand to the small of her back, eager to get upstairs and get a proper night’s sleep in her own bed with Kara tucked safely against her, protected and loved.

The next few days are hectic. It's not the kind of hectic that comes from the government trying to murder them, but it's still pretty hectic. There are more interviews than they know how to handle, and given that it’s literally part of Kara’s job, that’s a lot. She knows how to handle herself, they both do, but when they’re forced to spend days doing nothing but recounting the same story over and over to a hundred different people, it’s too much.

They haven’t even figured out how to handle it themselves just yet, but here they are, forced to try and explain something they have yet to figure out themselves. Something they want to understand but haven’t had the time to process.

“How many today?” Kara sighs, rubbing at her eyes harshly as she tries to summon up the courage to sit up so she can take the mug Lena’s offering her, one filled with caffeinated goodness and way too much sugar.

Lena sighs and puts it down on the nightstand, sensing that her arm will go numb from waiting with it outstretched before Kara will take it otherwise. “I don’t know. Maybe we should call in sick or put them off for tomorrow. We haven’t had a break from it yet, and I think we deserve one.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Lena Luthor would offer up a day off.” Kara smiles wryly for a moment. “But we can’t. If we put it off, we’ll just end up with a load more work waiting for us another day. We have to tell all those people these things for a reason. We’re helping clean up this mess, and I think it’s important.”

“It is, but so is your mental health.” She takes a breath before correcting herself. “Our mental health.”

Kara smiles up at her proudly. “Look at you looking after yourself.”

Lena sinks into bed beside Kara, cuddling up into her side. “Yeah, well, I have a pretty awesome girlfriend who becomes a nightmare to live with when I don’t look after myself, so I’ve been speaking with my therapist over the phone. I think she was surprised when I made the appointment because it’s been that long since the last time we spoke. I’m lucky she got me in so fast.”

Kara grimaces. “I think that’s probably because our faces are all over the news, so she knows you need it right now.”

“Fair point.” Lena gives in. “Still, she helped me realize that we need some time to deal with this without everyone interjecting and messing up our thoughts, so I think a day off is exactly what we need.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

“Even if we don’t go to work, we won’t be able to find out who the latest government asshole is that got arrested. You know I live for those updates.”

Pressing her lips to Kara’s cheek gently, she trails soft kisses across her skin until they fall into a tender kiss. One that is promptly ruined by Lena blowing a raspberry against Kara’s lips.

“Ew!” Kara gasps and pulls away from Lena. “Lena!”

Lena cackles maniacally, falling onto her back and holding a hand to her chest. “Your face! That was so good!”

“Ok, now I definitely want to go to work.”

Lena’s laughs don’t stop, not even as she starts trying to talk between laughs. “I already called us both out.”

Kara grabs her mug and pouts, propping the pillows up behind her. “You’re mean and I don’t appreciate it.”

Lena trails her hand up Kara’s leg, starting at her knee and then slipping up her thigh, her fingertips sneaking beneath the fabric of her shorts. “Are you sure? If we stay home, we can really…work through our emotional baggage together.”

“Lena, we can’t fuck away our trauma.”

“We can try.” Lena smirks, shuffling closer, continuing to edge her fingers further up to where both of them want them to land.

Kara leans into the touch, her arms still folded over her chest and her head tilted away in faux indifference even as she does so. “I haven’t done my morning crossword yet.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Lena whispers, tugging at the waistband of the offending shorts. “Your puzzle book is in your nightstand drawer as per usual. You shouldn’t have an issue getting it, should you?”

Kara tries to focus, her hands faltering when she tries to grip the knob because Lena takes that exact moment to tug the shorts down to her knees and swipe her tongue against her clit. “Jesus Christ.”

“If that’s not the answer to a clue, I don’t want to hear it.”

“What?”

“What’s the answer to number one?”

“Across or down?”

“Surprise me.” Lena drawls, watching on joyously as Kara frantically flips through the book in search of a crossword she hasn’t done. It takes her a moment to arrange the pen in her hand and run her eyes over the words. “So?”

“Across is Benjamin Fr—” Kara gasps and loses her mind as Lena’s tongue gets back to work.

“Who?” Lena stops what she’s doing and takes that time to pull Kara’s shorts all the way off so she can lie down between her legs comfortably, her head coming to rest on her inner thigh to show that she’s not starting again until she gets her answer. “Who?”

“B-Benjamin Franklin.”

“Mmm.” Lena hums, her tongue getting back to work on the pretty, pink pussy she’s missed in all the commotion caused by people trying to murder them. This is a very relaxing change of pace. “What about down?”

“Down?” Kara gasps, her eyes falling closed as she drops her pen, her hand travelling down to nest in Lena’s messy hair, still tangled from sleep. It’s slapped away, and Lena snatches up the pen from where she dropped it on the sheets and forces it back into her hand.

Lena traps Kara’s thighs with her arms, pinning her in place. “Down.”

Kara writhes under her touch, trying her best to wriggle free from the tight grasp, to regain the ability to buck and grind, something she definitely took for granted. Now, she doesn’t stand a chance of taking a single thing that Lena isn’t allowing.

She drops the book and pen onto her chest, giving them up and reaching down a second time. She’s not sure if she’s trying to pull Lena closer or get away, but either way, she needs Lena to hurry up and stop teasing her before she implodes.

“Fuck, Lena. You’re doing a better job at killing me than any of those incompetent government dimwits ever did.”

Lena freezes. “Kara, my love?” She waits for Kara to peer down at her. “Too soon.”

“Sorry,” Kara mumbles, her hands gripping at Lena’s, trying to pry them away from her thighs, a task she’s completely failing at.

“Hands back up.”

“But—”

“No, hands back up,” Lena demands, her tone sharp to match the fingertips digging through the supple flesh of her thighs and into the steely muscle hiding beneath it. “If you aren’t going to be a good girl and fill in the answers for me, you can hold onto the headboard.”

All it takes for Kara to comply is Lena’s mouth trailing over to her thigh and her teeth sinking into her skin, albeit with a moan that would make a demon shake its head. She follows it up by finally releasing her thighs and sitting up to grab the puzzle book and pen.

She takes a look at the next clue on the page. “You answer correctly and you’ll get rewarded. Now, this is an easy one. The surname of the actress who played Rachel in ‘Friends’.” She finishes the clue with a lick to the teeth marks she’s left behind.

“Aniston.” Kara whines.

“Good girl.” Lena smirks, latching back onto her clit with a ferocity that forces all the air out of her lungs. She licks across it broadly before sucking it like her life depends on it, working her up as quickly as humanly possible, knowing all of the little tips and tricks to get her to cum faster than a teenage boy losing his virginity.

Kara is catapulted to the brink of insanity and then left there to teeter as Lena eases off, licking across her pussy in bold strokes, her tongue avoiding her clit more and more with each pass, thoroughly lavishing her lips and avoiding the little bundle of nerves that craves her attention.

“No…” Kara complains. “Lena, please.”

“Hush. I have to write your last answer in the grid. I forgot to do it. Remind me what the answer was again.”

“Aniston.”

Lena hums, picking up the pen with one hand and using the other to gently rub her clit in tiny, delicate circles, keeping her right where she wants her. “Next clue. The famous river that runs through London.”

“The…” Kara groans as Lena adjusts the pressure, giving her a little more just to watch her squirm. “You’re evil.”

“I know. Now tell me the name of that river, baby.” Lena twirls the pen playfully, reaching up to use the non-working end of it to flick her nipple. “I want to know.”

“The Thames!” Kara practically shouts. “Please, let me cum.”

Lena tuts, taking a second to jot down the answer before tossing it aside once more. “You’ve only answered three questions. Do you really think that’s earned you that kind of reward?”

“Probably not, but I want to drink my coffee while it’s still hot, so please hurry the hell up.” Kara gasps but peers down at Lena with a level of sincerity that the ravenette isn’t expecting.

“Yes, dear.” She drawls. “Do me a favour and move your hands down to your breasts. They’re way too perky to be left neglected, don’t you think?”

Kara doesn’t need telling a second time, her hands making their way up her pyjama top and grabbing her boobs with a ferocity that shocks even herself. Her fingers find her nipples and pinch them teasingly, matching Lena’s soft rhythm and getting harsher as she speeds up her tongue as her hands get acquainted with her ass.

Lena grabs handfuls of the cheeks that she’s missed so much. How long it’s been since she’s managed to get a good butt grab in should be a crime. “Ok, darling. Let’s make you cum so you can have your coffee.”

She attaches herself to her clit once again, sucking ruthlessly and adding just the tiniest amount of teeth, sending fire burning through Kara’s nerves and finally tipping her over the edge that Lena has kept her on for way longer than she expected her to today. “Fuck, Lena!”

“That’s it, good girl.” Lena coos, continuing to lick at her, unwilling to stop and move away from the delicious treat she’s found between Kara’s legs, one that is definitely her favourite. She’s half convinced she could actually survive from eating Kara out as her only source of nutrition.

Kara takes a long few minutes to come back to herself, using her shaky hands to pull Lena’s head away from her sensitive clit until her cheek is resting on her thigh. “Ok, this is a good morning.”

Lena hums, climbing up to lie beside her slowly and carefully before she reaches over to her own nightstand and grabs her mug. She takes a healthy sip before simply tipping it back and chugging the entire thing. She sighs as she puts it down once it’s empty. “Thanks for reminding me about the coffee. I hate cold coffee.”

Kara stares at her wide-eyed. “Did you make me cum quickly just so your coffee wouldn’t go cold?”

“Yep. I was planning on making you finish the crossword first, but you know I have to get my caffeine fix.”

“You’re definitely evil.” Kara pouts, drinking her coffee at a much more reasonable pace. “At least some of my crossword is done though. I’m not thanking you because you’re mean, but I am glad it’s got a few…” She peers down at the page. “Only three?”

“Three answers, only another twenty-three to go, it would have been more but you’re not great at multitasking. That’s a shame.” Lena leans over and pecks her on the lips before deepening the kiss and giving Kara the chance to taste a mixture of herself and coffee on her tongue.

Kara sighs against her lips and chases them as Lena pulls back. “I’m going to have a shower and then get breakfast started. Take your time with your puzzle.”

“I’m going to get you back for this.” Kara calls out to Lena’s retreating form.”

“I’m sure you will,” Lena smirks over her shoulder, disappearing into the bathroom with an extra sway of her hips.

Sagging back into the pillows, Kara pulls the duvet back over her bare bottom half. “This woman is going to kill me.”

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diorkyeom · 8 months

Text

‘✷’ : CHAPTER FOUR “in the eye of every beholder”

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chapter word count: 3.6k+

chapter warnings: none (other than seokmin wanting to murder ksy)(with good intentions)

summary: "lately, seokmin had come to a realisation. joshua hong, seokmin thought, was a little bit of an enigma." - in which seokmin has known joshua for years, but he's always been a bit of a mystery to him. and as the days go by, he finds himself falling further and further for the enigmatic man, wanting to find out who the real Joshua Hong is behind his polite smiles and warm eyes and sweet words.

notes: introducing my oc teacher characters!!! i kinda wrote myself into a corner by having no one else in svt being teachers lmao so i had to make up new friends for seokmin when he’s at school haha ^^

“Good morning, Seokmin. Why do you look like you managed to get zero sleep last night?”

Seokmin laughed into his coffee as he set his bag down at his desk in their department office. “Uh, that might be because I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?” Yuna, one of the other teachers in the department, looked at him concernedly as she turned on her own computer. “Why? Don’t tell me you left your marking to the last minute again.”

Seokmin sipped his drink, contemplating for a moment, before just smiling. “You caught me there."

Telling the truth and saying that he'd been staying awake to talk with one of his not-quite-friends by the river until sunrise about anything and everything would have been weird, anyway.

Before the woman had the chance to tell him off, however, the door to the department office swung open, and one of the other literature teachers swept in amongst a whirl of papers.

“Good morning, you two,” Hayoung chirped, dumping her papers down at her desk before grinning at them, pushing her glasses up as she bent down to pick up the papers that had been dropped. “Hey, why does Seokmin look like he’s half dead?”

Seokmin rolled his eyes at the two women, turning to his own computer and attempting to turn the monitor on. “You’re both so mean.”

Hayoung just laughed, shuffling her papers together and pulling out her own chair to sit down. “We care about you, brat. That’s all. Did something happen?”

“No,” Seokmin said, typing in his user and password. “I’m fine, I promise. Just procrastinated marking my children’s homework, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Hayoung said wisely. “Totally understandable. I do that all the time.”

Yuna sighed, shaking her head. “You two are utterly insane. I could never leave my marking that late.”

“Good morning!” another voice trilled, and all three literature teachers looked up to see another one of their colleagues hop into the room, looking buzzed up on far too much caffeine. “Did you hear that they’re already interviewing people to replace the teachers that left?”

“Minjun,” Yuna remarked dryly as the man accidentally bumped into Hayoung’s table and knocked over her pile of papers. “Why are you so hyper so early in the morning?”

“They’re already interviewing potential new teachers?” Seokmin asked interestedly. At the desk next to him, Hayoung wailed over the fallen papers that she’d just picked up. “That was fast.”

“I know right?” Minjun said, setting down his bag and his coat at his desk. “Apparently they’ve already found the new teachers they wanna hire for the music department. One of them is starting in a couple of weeks, actually.”

Seokmin shook his head. “That’s insane. I hope they’re prepared to deal with being thrown into the curriculum halfway through the year.”

Minjun laughed. “Yeah." He jabbed his finger in the direction of the door. "Also, the first class of the day started three minutes ago.”

All three literature teachers jumped at his words, looking over at the clock before collectively scrambling to gather their things and get to their students.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Seokmin said despairingly, accidentally stepping on some of Hayoung’s papers as he left the room. “Sorry, Hayoung!”

Minjun just continued laughing as he waved them out of the office. “I don’t have any classes until the afternoon. Have a nice day, you guys!”

Yuna yelled back something intelligible as both she and Seokmin hurried down the corridor, Hayoung still picking up her papers in the office.

"I'll see you at break," Yuna said quickly before pushing open the door to her classroom, instantly calling out for her children to settle down.

Seokmin shook his head, smiling, before walking into his own class too, pushing the door open with his foot and carrying his lesson materials in his arms.

"Yes, yes, I'm here now," he said, and the delighted cries of "Mr. Lee!" made him smile even wider. "Good morning, has everyone's morning been good?"

He walked to the front of the classroom, humming interestedly and laughing as some of the children told him very seriously that they wouldn't mind at all if his lesson killed them so early on in the day just so they wouldn't have to proceed with their other classes.

This particular grade class was, in fact, his favourite, and teaching these students always managed to bring a smile to his face purely because he could tell that so many of these bright children would go on to become adults that he could proudly tell others he had the privilege of teaching in their youth.

“Today, we’ll be starting a new unit,” Seokmin announced as he set his things down in the classroom, “and it’ll be on poems.”

There were a mixture of groans and cheers in response to his announcement, and Seokmin grinned, clasping his hands together and walking across the front of the class.

“I know, I know, but poetry is fun, I promise! Besides, I managed to convince them to look at a more interesting poem, which I'm sure you'll enjoy.”

His statement was met with unimpressed stares, but Seokmin just grinned wider, moving back to the desk to pick up a marker and then walking over to the whiteboard.

He uncapped the dry marker and wrote the word ‘Homer’ on the board, drawing a circle around it. “Now, what do you think of when you see this name? Yes, Hyeongjung?”

“Homer Simpson!”

Seokmin paused, narrowing his eyes playfully at the boy. “Okay, other than the Simpsons. How is the name Homer significant in literature? Jiyeon, what do you think?”

“Didn’t he write the Iliad?”

Seokmin smiled, writing ‘Iliad’ beside the name. “Well done. We don’t actually know if he did write the Iliad, but that epic poem, along with the Odyssey, are often attributed to Homer, so we call him the author anyway. The ‘Odyssey’ is what we’ll be focusing most on,” he said, writing down both the poems on the board, “but first, we’ll be taking a brief look at Greek mythology.”

There were gasps of excitement amongst the children, and Seokmin grinned again.

“Now, can anyone name some of the Ancient Greek gods to me?”

───────────── ‘✷,

“See you tomorrow, you guys,” Seokmin said to the last few teachers still in the office as he shouldered his bag, getting ready to leave work for the day. “How long are you all planning to stay here?”

Yuna just hummed, clacking away at her keyboard. “I haven’t finished making quotation flashcards for my children yet. And I need to print and laminate them, too.”

Seokmin winced in sympathy. “Good luck. I tried making quotation flashcards for some of my classes last year, and it’s a lot of work.”

“Yeah, I know,” Yuna laughed. She waved a hand in Seokmin’s direction, not even looking at him. “I’ll be fine. You, however, need to get some sleep, Mr. Lee. You still look dead on your feet. See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Seokmin said, taking the statement for the dismissal that it was, smiling. “Don’t work yourself too hard, okay?”

And with that, he stepped out of the office, fishing out his phone and texting him a quick "on my way!". The elder had messaged him, around an hour ago, asking if Seokmin wanted to meet up in one of the cafes near Seokmin’s school, and of course he’d said yes. Having coffee with Jeonghan was always fun, because it was never really about the coffee and more about the talking.

It had been a while since he’d met up with Jeonghan one-on-one, anyways, so it would be fun.

“Jeonghan hyung!”

The moment Seokmin stepped into the cafe, the door’s wind chimes tinkling in his wake, he called out to Jeonghan and grinned as the elder looked up with a wave.

“Seokmin-ah,” Jeonghan said, smiling as he gestured to the chair opposite him for Seokmin to sit down. “How are you doing? How was work?”

"It was okay," Seokmin shrugged, before beaming as Jeonghan slid over a croissant. "Aw, hyung, did you buy this for me?"

"You have to pay me back," Jeonghan said, but he was smiling fondly. In all the years that Seokmin had known Jeonghan, he'd never really had to pay him back for anything he bought him. "This place is crazy expensive."

Seokmin just laughed, instantly pulling apart the croissant before his eyes lit up as Jeonghan also slid over a teacup, seemingly procuring it out of nowhere. "Why are we here then?"

"You like their mochas, don't you?" Jeonghan said, tapping the mug. "See, Seokmin, I know these things."

"I'm so honoured you pay so much attention to me, hyung," Seokmin said, half teasing, and happily sipped his coffee. "Mmm. Delicious."

Jeonghan grinned.

It was earlier than Seokmin normally left work, and there were still people milling around in the cafe. The sun was lingering in the sky, not quite setting yet but also not quite high enough to look like it was doing anything other than drowsily going to bed, casting golden-orange light through the windows and across the tables. The buzz of chatter created a lively ambience, but it was a gentle liveliness that allowed Seokmin's shoulders to relax and smile over at Jeonghan as the elder leaned his elbows on the table, eyes glittering.

"Speaking of knowing things, though," Jeonghan said, and Seokmin's shoulders reluctantly tensed once again. "I think you know what other thing I know about you, right?"

Seokmin groaned, about to faceplant into the table before he realised that a) they were in public and b) he had a hot coffee right where his head would have landed. So he settled with kicking Jeonghan under the table again.

"Hey!" Jeonghan swiftly kicked him back and then carried on talking, grinning deviously. "Joshua talked about it with you, didn't he? During the last Game Night."

"Don't kick me back! I—wait, what?" Seokmin paused, frowning. "He… didn't talk about it at all."

Now that Seokmin thought about it, Joshua never brought up their encounters in conversations. Not the flower incident, or the gym incident, or the awkward "I've been asking all our friends about you" incident. It was as if he wasn't making a big deal out of it, waiting for Seokmin to talk about it first, making sure that Seokmin was comfortable with broaching the subject and if he wasn't, then Joshua wouldn't say anything.

Wow. Seokmin blinked. He found himself really… touched.

Jeonghan, however, frowned, looking put-out by Joshua's thoughtfulness. "Aw. I thought he'd try to talk to you about it. That’s a shame.”

Seokmin looked over warily, slowly taking a bite out of his croissant, flakes of pastry getting all around his mouth. “Why is that a shame? What did you want him to say?”

“I wanted him to ask you about it, of course!” Jeonghan said. “I wanted him to ask you why you were doing that, because he kept asking me about it instead. And I said to him, “You gotta just ask Seokmin himself, Joshuji. I don’t know anything about it.”, but it appears that he didn’t follow my advice.”

“You just want to know yourself, don’t you?” Seokmin said. He wiped at the crumbs on his cheeks, failing in his attempts to clean his face since his fingers were all flake-covered too. “Don’t lie. Joshua hyung’s really sweet and chill. You’re the nosy one.”

Jeonghan laughed, not looking the least bit offended. “Well, you’re kind of right. But I’m still trying to get him to talk to you.”

“Huh?” Seokmin frowned. “Why?”

Jeonghan just hummed, giving Seokmin a tight-lipped smile and shook his head, drumming his fingers against the table. “Did anything interesting happen at work today? I do wanna know how your day went, Seokmin.”

It was a clear sign to change the topic, and Seokmin decided to take it. With enough wheedling, he would probably have been able to push Jeonghan for the answers he wanted on the Joshua thing, but he didn’t really have the energy. Jeonghan was weak for him, but not that weak. And after a long day at work, Seokmin was kinda tired.

“Um, apparently they’re already interviewing for the potential new teachers,” Seokmin said. “And they’ve found replacement music teachers that are gonna start in a few weeks.”

“New music teachers?” Jeonghan asked, tilting his head interestedly. “I see.”

Seokmin nodded, sipping his coffee. “It’s all just rumours for now. Minjun’s really good at getting accurate pieces of information, though, so there’s a pretty good chance that it’s the truth.”

“Minjun?” Jeonghan watched as Seokmin set down his coffee mug, before promptly swiping it and taking a sip thoughtfully, ignoring Seokmin’s indignant cry. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Seokmin swiftly snatched back his coffee, taking another sip while pouting at Jeonghan. "He's been the head of my department for years, hyung. Maybe you heard it from me?"

"No, I think Joshua had a friend called Minjun," Jeonghan said, watching blankly as Seokmin finished the rest of his croissant. "They went to uni together. They were pretty decent friends, I think, promising to help each other with job offers and stuff."

"Well." Seokmin shrugged. "I dunno. Minjun's never mentioned a friend named Joshua. Maybe it's another Minjun?"

Jeonghan's gaze focused back on Seokmin again, and he grinned. "Maybe. Anyway, what about lessons? What were you teaching your kids this time?”

Seokmin beamed, visibly lighting up at the chance to talk about his students. “Oh! You know that one class which is my utter favourite? I’m going over the ‘Odyssey’ with them now, and we were studying Ancient Greek mythology today. Everyone has a weird fixation on Poseidon, though, and I gotta find a way to break it to them that he’s kinda as much of an asshole as Zeus is.”

Jeonghan snorted. “Tell them that story of how he kidnapped a woman, maybe?”

Seokmin blinked innocently. “Which one?”

That made the elder laugh, eyes twinkling. “Did you tell them the story of the golden apple, too? That one’s always fun. It’s like an introduction to the Trojan War, too.”

“I did! You know, the first thing I did was ask them, ‘Who is the prettiest god’ and the amount of people who said Aphrodite… like, oh boy. You’d think that people have learned their lesson by now,” Seokmin said. “But, did you hear about how Aphrodite isn’t just one type of beauty? She is beauty, embodying everything that it means to be beautiful. So she’s mysterious and kind and liked by everyone, and she’s beautiful in everyone’s eyes.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, huh?” Jeonghan said, leaning forward. His laughter had died down, and he looked curiously invested in what Seokmin was saying. “So… you could say she’s beautiful and… elusive at the same time?”

“Exactly!” Seokmin chirped. “She's an enigma. She changes to fit everyone else. Her beauty fits the eye of every beholder. In a really mysterious, it-kinda-makes-sense but also it-doesn’t-make-sense kind of way.”

Jeonghan quirked a grin. “Really? Tell me more, I wanna know.”

If it were anyone else saying that, with that decidedly devious grin on their face, Seokmin would have been more suspicious. But Jeonghan always either looked like he was plotting something or was about to fall asleep, and so Seokmin didn't think anything of it.

Besides, if Jeonghan was plotting something, then the results would normally reveal themselves eventually. Most of the time, it was for a good cause, anyway.

Hopefully.

───────────── ‘✷,

"Kwon Soonyoung," Seokmin muttered through gritted teeth as he plodded down the street,"I am going to murder you."

Seokmin was late to school.

Well, he was late to work, but his work essentially was a school, so it was the same thing. And, like most misfortunes in Seokmin’s life, it was kind of all Soonyoung’s fault.

Soonyoung had fallen ill, having caught some sort of cold that rendered him unable to even move his head. Seokmin said it was from that time he’d worked overtime and had to come home in the rain with no umbrella. Soonyoung strongly disagreed. With pillows thrown at Seokmin's head.

Nevertheless, Seokmin had had to take care of him that morning, running around while trying to get ready for work and dig out their tissue boxes from somewhere and give Soonyoung some painkillers with a glass of water and quickly make some canned soup because if Soonyoung didn’t have at least a bowl of soup on the first morning of a sickness, then he’d be ill for an entire month and complain to Seokmin the entire time.

By the end of it, the soup was only half eaten and most of the glass of water had made its way onto the floor and Seokmin hadn’t had time to have breakfast or brush his hair. And he was late.

The first lesson of the day was already in full swing by the time he managed to trudge into school, having given up on actually getting there on time, shooting a quick email to the office to get them to send a sub to his class. They’d better get used to subs just in case, anyway. Soonyoung managed to sneeze on him a total of fifteen times in an hour. There was a pretty good chance that Seokmin was sick too.

“Mr. Lee!” Dowoon, one of the history teachers, called out in surprise when Seokmin dragged himself into the staffroom, already exhausted. “You’re not normally here in the mornings.”

“Mr. Kang,” Seokmin greeted, immediately going over to the instant coffee machine. “Yeah, I had to take care of my sick friend this morning, so I ended up running late. I’ve given up on getting to my first two classes. It’s a double period,” he elaborated, “so it’s the same class of children. I’ll let them have two hours of free time to themselves.”

Dowoon chuckled, downing his own instant coffee. “You’re very generous,” he said. “Oh, did you hear that the new music teacher has started? Just began today, I believe.”

“Already?” Seokmin asked, surprised, taking out his coffee. “Wow, that was fast. Minjun was telling us that they’d start in two weeks, and I guess he was right.”

“That man and his crazy hunches,” Dowoon laughed, shaking his head. He put the empty paper cup into the bin, walking towards the door. “Well, enjoy your own free hour, Seokmin. I’ll be off now.”

“Have a nice day!” Seokmin called back.

And then the history teacher left, leaving a thoughtful silence in his wake.

It was calm in the staffroom, as it normally was on mornings. There were a few teachers sitting around, but most were in lessons, and the sun streamed into the largely empty room, casting light on the ornamental bookshelf and the weirdly shaped fake potted plant in the corner.

Seokmin’s lips twitched upwards. Joshua would have probably liked the strange decor in their staff room.

He leisurely finished his coffee, looking out through the windows at the green field by the side of the school, watching the children playing sports. Then, throwing the empty cup away, Seokmin shouldered his bag again and walked out of the room. There was still a decent amount of time before his next class, and he basically had the entirety of the school to himself to wander around in. He could snoop into wherever he wanted.

Well. He grinned, turning down one corridor. Maybe it was time to visit the music department. Perhaps he’d find something interesting to tell Seungkwan.

The sound of singing filled his ears as he entered the music hallway, and he instinctively chuckled, recognising the tune of the school anthem they were singing. It must be one of the younger years in class right now, he mused. They sounded like they were learning the song for the first time.

He carefully peered into the classroom through the window of the door, chuckling as he watched the teacher conduct the children as they dutifully sang along to the lyrics that were on the board. He drew away, however, when the sound of a door clicking open echoed from around the corner, and voices sounded.

"—lively community here, sir, and we think that you'd be a brilliant addition to the music department. We could use your knowledge here to help strengthen our students."

That was the voice of the head of the music department, which Seokmin recognised. Her voice was fluid, smooth and gentle and Minjun said that she'd been a world-famous opera singer before settling down at their school. Like most things Minjun said, it was probably true.

"Thank you very much, Miss," a new voice said, and Seokmin stilled. He blinked, not sure whether he really did recognise that voice or whether his brain was playing tricks on him.

"Of course," the woman said. "We hope you feel welcome here in our school."

There were more pleasantries exchanged, and then the sound of the office door swinging shut. Seokmin panicked as dress shoes clicked down the corridor, closer and closer to where he was, feeling oddly like a child having been caught eavesdropping as he straightened and stepped away from the wall, before accidentally ending up colliding right into the man who had been walking around the corner.

"Hello!" The man said in surprise. Steady hands reached out to firmly hold onto his shoulders, and Seokmin was quickly pulled away from a warm and solid chest and found himself staring into big, brown eyes instead. Big, brown eyes that widened in shock and then melted into a look that was so soft and so familiar that it made Seokmin's heart immediately begin to beat faster.

Seokmin sputtered, temporarily speechless. "Joshua?"

taglist (interact here/ send ask to be added): @fairyhaos @atinytinaa @my-moarmy-heart @weird-life-of-a-closet-fangirl @lilsafsafbooyah @stqrrgirle @bittersweet-folder @weird-bookworm @ultrara-re @tianakings @bangantokchy @tiinkerbell @ahuiahoe @trashmeowcan

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vamossainz55 · 2 years

Text

Puppy Love (1.3k) | Mick Schumacher x Reader

req from anon: mick would be the cutest hopeless romantic bf. like you know how I’m rom com books/movies the guy is head over heels for their lover. sweet angel mick picking ur fav flowers and a whole movie marathon for you, just because 😌

a/n: tysm for the request!! ahhh i get so happy and excited that i literally need to write it right away. i did a bit of a twist? did i get carried away? maybe. but golden retriever mick energy for sure (so basically canon). i refuse to believe he would be any other way and he would basically move mountains and oceans for you. he'd adore you. anyways first non-carlos fic? published at least hehe. okay that is all. i hope u enjoy anon <3. (sorry i didnt do the movie marathon but i threw it a little in there)

warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff really. oh and late night writing so pls lmk if there are any mistakes <3

reqs are currently open

gif credit to acrosstobear

You had your fair share of shitty boyfriends throughout the years but every moment you spent with Mick made you realize the wait was definitely worth it.

It was the first date that really gave you a hint. The way he had knocked on your door instead of waiting in the car. The way he happily introduced himself to your parents, promising with his sweet smile to return you home by your curfew, and he did.

You joked with your friends, how it wouldn’t last long, and deep down you were scared for a bit but there wasn’t a single day that the German boy proved differently. Even when he finally got his seat in F1, he never failed to show you that you were his main priority.

“I can’t wait to see you, my love,” Your boyfriend says, and you can’t help but smile at the small pixelated video of him on your phone. He had one more race before the summer break- and you had tried your best to make it but your boss had set a last minute meeting that made it impossible for you to get there in time.

“Can’t wait to see you too babes,” You promise, sending kisses through the screen as you hear someone call for him in the background. You see Mick pout, telling whoever in the team to give him five more minutes and you can’t help but smile fondly. “Please go, they’re gonna hate me at this point.” You laugh, since you both well know this was his third time asking for more time.

“Fine, fine.” he says with a sigh before giving you a quick wave. “I love you.” He says making you smile and he waits before hanging up wanting to hear your reply. Of course you say it back.

_________

You come home a bit later than expected and you’re a bit frazzled, you need to go pick up Mick at the airport early in the morning so you had hoped to get some cleaning around your apartment but you were exhausted. You quietly slip off your shoes and hang your keys on the small hook by the mirror before turning on the lights.

Your bag hits the floor the same time you look up and you can’t help but freeze, seeing the whole apartment tidied up and what? The clothes that were scattered around your living room were all gone, your books were all placed neatly in the shelves, and you even notice that the plants look a bit more freshened up.

Soon you see a blonde mop of hair and blue eyes peeking from the kitchen. “Surprise!” And you can’t help but feel your chest swell. Mick’s coming at you at full force and you’re engulfed in his arms.

“Oh my god,” You say with a laugh, holding onto him tight as he lifts you up in the air. He takes this opportunity to spin you before carrying you to the couch. “What the hell?” You say once he sits down. He makes sure to rest you on his lap, and can’t help but run his hand on your thigh as you instinctively straddle him. You’re cupping his cheeks with a wide smile, looking over his eyes.

“You’re a doofus. Weren’t you supposed to be here tomorrow?” You ask, still grinning from ear to ear. He barely has time to answer before you’re peppering his lips with kisses and he’s never one to complain, making sure to return every single peck back. “Oh my god,” You say, still stunned.

“Managed to get an earlier flight,” he says with a smile, this time cupping your cheeks to look over your face endearingly and the look he gives you makes you want to cry.

“I ordered your favorite take out.” He says with a smile, “and I’ve loaded up your favorite movie.” He says and you shake your head.

“Aren’t you tired?” You ask with a laugh and he rolls his eyes.

“Never too tired for you.” He says before gently setting you to the side. “Now you sit down and relax. You’ve had a long day.” He says, gently turning you so you are facing the coffee table. You bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling when you find your favorite daffodils sitting nicely on the coffee table along with a pack of your favorite chips along with your favorite chocolate bar.

“I’m back.” Mick smiles, soon carrying to the table the take out from your favorite asian restaurant along with a glass of wine. He sets it down on the table in front of you before rushing to get his own. You open your container once he’s seated next to you and smile. Of course he ordered you fried rice with sweet and sour chicken.

“I got it right?” He asks curiously and you can’t help but roll your eyes fondly. When did he ever get it wrong?

“No peas too,” You say with a laugh before looking at him. “What did I do to deserve you?” You ask with a smile. He gives you a bashful and shy shrug before he’s telling you all about his race and how he had thought he had completely bottled it before ending in the points and you just can’t help but think how easy it is.

You snuggle into Mick’s side on the couch later that night, Mick being completely out before the movie had ended. You could tell he was tired from traveling and setting everything up. Quickly you check his phone, wanting to plug it in before it died but you accidentally unlock it with your thumb and you had almost forgotten that you had to try to convince Mick to get a new phone.

You furrow your brows when his phone instantly opens to the notes app with a note already open, but soon you’re smiling quietly to yourself when you notice the title. ‘yn’s favorite things and everything i love about her’. You let out a quiet but breathless laugh as you go to plug in his phone.

“Baby, stay.” Mick grumbles, soon pulling you in again and you can’t help but give in, snuggling into his side again and you swear your heart grows two sizes. You’re so inlove with him that it almost hurts.

“I’d never leave you, don’t worry.” You say softly, giving his cheek a gentle kiss before pulling one of your blankets over you both. He lets out a satisfied but sleepy sigh, murmuring something in his sleep before pulling you closer.

(And if Mick was tired from having spent almost three hours looking for the perfect daffodils for you since most stores were out of stock, nobody needed to know. The way you smiled at him when you saw them was already enough.)

a/n: once again as always tysm for reading hope you enjoy <3. i am enjoying a lot doing reqs atm so please know there are still open.

interested in reading more? check my masterlist.

#mick schumacher #mick x reader #mick schumacher x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x you #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher x you #vamossainz55 reqs

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browneyedboys · 2 years

Text

brother’s best friend - rafe cameron

you can find my other work here!

Pairing: rafe cameron x reader

Warnings: minor cursing, overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 1.5K

Synopsis: You’ve been feeling something between your brother’s best friend and yourself for a while. Will the line distance between you close finally?

a/n: hope you enjoy this small fic, feedback is always appreciated!

The honk of your friend's car brings you out of your thoughts as you halt at your front door. Its orange surface comes in contact with your forehead as you lean against it, digging through your overnight bag for your keys. After a night at your best friend, Lane’s, house you feel two steps away from sleep. It’s always been hard for you to stay up late and get up early in the morning but the sunrise hike was worth it.

As you finally find your key, slide it into the door, and open it, you’re met with a silent house. Nothing strange, all things considered. You’re one of two kids, the little sister of one of the most infamous figure eight cool boys, Aidan L/n.

The basement of your expansive home currently houses your brother and his idiot friends, their laughter slips through the crack beneath the door as you pass it. Climbing the stairs two at a time, you work a hand through your hair. The braids didn’t exactly help it stay untangled, instead it worked itself into a rather impressive knot.

After working a brush through your hair and throwing it up into a claw clip, you slip into a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Brushing your teeth again, you glance at your appearance in your bathroom. The sun kissed girl who stares back at you makes you grin, this summer has met almost all your goals, all but one.

Rafe Cameron, golden boy, remains your number one goal of the summer. You’re sick of the confusing relationship between the both of you; soft touches and grins seem to walk the fine line with a frustrating amount of balance. If you have a little amount of energy left this summer you aim to knock it off kilter.

You head down the two flights of stairs and into the dark basement, finding your brother, Rafe, and Kelce all lounging around the game room. The projector displays an intense game of mario kart, Aidan and Kelce cursing each other in hopes to gain the lead.

“Hey,” Rafe greets you, seemingly being the first to notice your presence, “did you just get home?” All the boys momentarily glance at you before continuing their race. Competition isn’t forgotten in your household.

Sending him a grin, you locate the remaining controller, “Yeah.” Taking a seat on the couch beside Rafe, you question, “Who is who?”

“Rafe’s top left, Aidan top right, and I’m on the bottom,” Kelce answers before tasering your brother. You watch as your brother jumps, his car swerving as Kelce snickers. Rafe pulls ahead, winning the game just barely.

“Cameron,” your brother groans, “that’s cheating.”

Shake your head, you quip, “All’s fair in love and war.” You join the next game, glancing at the golden boy beside you, “Ready to lose?”

“Never,” Rafe responds, bumping your shoulder, “I am ready for some real competition, though.”

"Hey!" Aidan calls from his place on the floor to the side of Kelce. You watch as a pillow flies toward Rafe as he kicks through the various menus. The pillow misses Rafe, landing on your lap.

“You missed and hit your own flesh and blood," Rafe teases, grabbing the pillow from your lap, smacking Aidan with it.

You chuckle at their antics, watching as they bicker with each other. You tug a spare blanket onto your lap, joining the game once it's ready and selecting Toad before your brother can, "Prepare to get smoked everyone.”

---

Many hours later the screen of the tv is imprinted in your eyes, even when they're closed. Out of the games you’ve played, you and Rafe won the most. Nothing new as the both of you play frequently, competing often for the title of first place.

"I think I'll dream about mario kart for the rest of the week," you complain. Taking your hair out of the claw clip, you lay onto the couch. You only realize how close you are to Rafe when your head lands on his lap.

He chuckles, if it weren't so dark you would be sure that a blush blooms across his cheeks, instead you only question it slightly.

"How was Lane's house? Did you guys talk about anything fun?" He questions, fingers running along your hair, you thank the gods that you put the effort into brushing it earlier..

You raise your eyebrows at Rafe, "It was nice, and wouldn't you like to know? I bet you boys gossip just as much as we do."

"Y/n!" You glance over at your brother as he gestures between Rafe and you. His eyebrows draw together as you resist giggling at the uncomfortable feeling growing in your stomach, "That's too close, I mean, your head on Rafe's lap, gross!"

Blushing, you sit up and climb off the couch, "I'm going to go finish my homework, see you guys later."

"Bye," Rafe mumbles as you turn to the stairs. You climb them a bit slower than normal, could Rafe like you as well or is this just you overanalyzing every little encounter with him?

As you reach the top of the stairs, you hear your brother say, "She's off limits, remember? How weird would it be if I flirted with your family member?"

"I wasn't flirting," Rafe replies to your brother, he sounds annoyed. Your stomach sinks at his tone, you must have yet read into an innocent situation. You huff in frustration as tears cloud your vision. Rushing up the second flight of stairs, you sink into your bed once you reach your room.

Dialing Lane, you sniff a few times and try to regain your composure. When you cry it's hard for her to understand you. When she finally answers, you manage to say, "He doesn't like me,” before diving into a recapping of the afternoon’s events.

At least you beat Rafe at mario kart.

A week later the loud boom of music echoes through your house. Upon your parents taking a weekend anniversary trip, Aidan took the opportunity to invite half the school to a party. You’re not exactly in the mood to down alcohol and talk to random people, so you sit on your bed, watching one of your favorite tv show episodes and eating hot chips.

The party winds down slowly as the hours tick by. Nearing midnight, a knock sounds on your door. You get out of bed and unlock it, hoping not to find a couple or random man on the other side. As you peek out the door you’re met with a flushed Rafe.

You let him in, "Lock the door behind you," you request. Returning to your warm covers, you close your laptop and set it on your nightstand. You peer at Rafe as he follows your request. The click of your door sounds as you tug the covers over so he has some room.

Once he locks the door, Rafe plops onto your bed, seemingly drunk. Gone is his usual caution as he cuddles up next to you, head on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist. His thumb traces the waistband of your shorts, sending butterflies up in your stomach.

"Y/n... I missed you."

Your breath catches, why would he miss you? More of the disappointment and sadness washes over you, he’s the one who has been avoiding you. "What? I’m right here, Rafe."

He lifts his head, looking you in the eyes, "Yeah but you’ve been absent for the past week." He swipes a thumb across your cheekbone, cupping your jaw. "What I wanted to tell you on the couch and for a while is that I like you. I have for a while and I told Aidan, he got all upset over it and I respected that for a few weeks. But I just can't seem to listen to that for long, whenever I see I just want to make you smile, cuddle you," he pauses, "Kiss you."

You grin at him, "Really? Only in my dreams did I imagine this ever happening, especially since I overheard you and my brother in the basement.”

"Really," he chuckles, “You’re such a dork, how could you think I don’t like you, I look at you like you are my world.” His eyes bounce from your eyes to your lips, the hand he cupped your jaw with tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before returning to its position. You lean in, not waiting for the hesitation that may come. Your lips meet and you can't help but smile as his other hand pulls you closer.

After you’ve run out of breath, Rafe beams at you, your foreheads still touching. "Fuck your brother," he whispers. You can't help but giggle and lean back in.

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