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awearywritersworld · 10 months

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stay as long as you need

fushiguro toji x reader summary: toji can't stop hanging around his new neighbor, even though she has a boyfriend. oh well, he knows he's better for her anyway. w/c: 1.2k tags/warnings: hurt/comfort. angst to fluff. domestic violence perpetrated by reader's boyfriend, but nothing terribly graphic; the incident is discussed after the fact, not depicted. implied age gap. protective!toji. toji actually being nice. cliche "who did this to you" moment. fem!reader a/n: WHY IS HE SO HOT??????? I JUST WANT HIM TO TAKE CARE OF MEEEEEEEEE (OR CRUSH ME WITH HIS THIGHS, IM NOT PICKY) on a less unhinged note, thanks for reading!! masterlist

"need some help?"

you nearly jump upon hearing the words, having been lost in your own little world. when you turn around, you're met with a dark haired, well built man and just the sight of him makes your cheeks feel hot.

"oh, i- um," you glance between him and the heavy box in your hands.

he's already taking it from you though, effortlessly balancing it in one hand before opening the door for you with the other.

"thanks," you squeak out, stepping inside your new apartment building.

he smirks down at you, eyes raking over your body. toji isn't exactly the good samaritan type, but for a pretty little thing like you, he can certainly make an exception.

the elevator button lights up when he presses it. "just moving in?"

"yup! third floor. getting everything up there has been quite the ordeal, so i appreciate your help," you explain sweetly.

when the metal doors slide open, he lets you step inside first.

"hm, all by yourself? no boyfriend in the picture?" well, the sorcerer killer has never been one for subtly.

"yeah, actually," you return sheepishly. "he's just out with his friends at the moment."

"that so?" you don't see the look of judgement that crosses his face, though it isn't at all directed toward you.

once you emerge on your floor, toji follows along just a step behind you. he can't help his amusement when you stop at your door. "would you look at that. i guess we're neighbors now."

his head nods toward his own apartment, just two doors down from yours. "oh good! i'm glad this wasn't too far out of your way."

"don't worry about it, wouldn't have been any trouble either way."

you offer him a bashful smile before your door clicks open, revealing quite a few boxes just inside. "you can just put that anywhere, don't mind the mess.. i'm (y/n), by the way."

"toji." he places it on top of one of the other boxes, honestly impressed that you managed to get so many upstairs by yourself. "can i have your car keys?"

he thinks the look of confusion that crosses your features is just too cute. "what for?"

he chuckles because it should be obvious, but clearly you aren't used to being taken care of. "to get the rest of your boxes, princess."

~~~

the next afternoon, toji answers a knock at his door and finds you on the other side. you've got a plate of fresh cookies in your hand, which you shyly offer to the tall man. "these are for you. thank you so much for all your help yesterday! i couldn't have done it without you."

"thanks, you didn't have to," he tells you, although he's happy you did. when he pulls them from your grasp, his hands brush yours. he invites you in, insisting he can't enjoy them alone, but really he just wants to get to know you.

and he does. over the next few weeks, you spend a surprising amount of time in one another's company. whenever he bumps into you in the hall, he'll chat with you for a while, even (or, especially) when he's running late to a job.

one day you mention that a shelf you ordered came disassembled, so he offers to come over and put it together for you. of course you show up at his door the next day with a new plate of cookies.

another morning, toji groans when he discovers that he's out of tea, but quickly realizes it's the perfect excuse to knock on your door. when it swings open, he swallows thickly, taking in your tiny shorts and thin tank top. it was obvious you'd just woken up.

you're no better than he is with the way your eyes trail over his fitted tshirt, then down to the sweatpants that hang loosely around his waist. you're both too preoccupied staring to notice the other doing the same.

"mornin', sleepy beauty," he says with a lopsided grin.

"good morning, toji." you return his smile, your greeting a saccharine melody to his ears. oh, the things he'd do to have you all to himself.

he explains his predicament and you're more than happy to invite him inside. you both sit at your kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea and chatting about your day. the domesticity off it all leaves a pleasant taste in his mouth, which is bizarre seeing as up until a few weeks ago, he'd have found the thought down right repulsive.

but he just can't get you out of his head. you're too sweet for your own good, too young to know what you deserve in a man, and he's more than willing to show you.

he knows you're not available, but makes no attempt to stifle his growing fondness toward you. after all, he'd only ever seen your boyfriend once.

you were returning from a rare afternoon out just as he was leaving to pick up something for lunch. you looked so good in your cute little dress that he hardly even noticed your boyfriend at first.

"hey, (y/n)," toji greeted you. "who's this?"

he didn't give you a chance to speak, just pulled you into his side. "her boyfriend."

"ah," he leered, his nose crinkled. "i wasn't sure since i never see you around."

your eyes flickered between the two men somewhat nervously. toji towered over your boyfriend, a feat he took great satisfaction in.

a humorless laugh came from your left. "prefer to have her over at my place."

toji didn't respond right away, just looked down at you, taking note of your quietness. he briefly recalled the time you mentioned how much it bothered you that your boyfriend never came to visit, that you always had to make the effort.

"right.. well, you're a lucky man." he looked much more smug by then, his head falling to the side. "your girl has the best cookies around."

toji moves past both of you without waiting for a reply, roughly clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder. "see you around, (y/n)."

~~~

nearly two weeks later, toji's leaving his apartment late in the evening, as his current job can really only be taken care of during the nighttime hours. he doesn't expect to see many people in the halls, so he's surprised to find you at your apartment door.

the hood of your sweatshirt is pulled over your head, obscuring your face from his view. "(y/n)?"

you don't respond, so he takes a step toward you. it's only then he notices the way your hands are trembling, struggling with the lock. he reaches out, but when his fingers brush your arm, you jump back as if you'd been completely oblivious to his presence.

"hey-" he begins to say, but stops once he sees your face. his eyes darken and his jaw tenses, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as a result.

your cheekbone is bright red, a small cut stretching across the center of the mark. your eyes watch him, wide and fearful, and you're all but frozen in place.

"who did this to you?"

he's struggling to keep his composure, the sight of your bruised face enough to have his heart hammering away angrily in his chest. you look away, tears forming in your eyes, and you can't bring yourself to respond.

"was it him?" he presses.

you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to keep from crying. "i-it's okay, though. he didn't mean it, really, and-"

"look me in the face and try that again."

you meet his gaze, somewhat unwillingly, and whimper. "i.. i can't."

he sighs quietly, his job already forgotten for the night, and moves toward you. he remembers how you flinched away from him just moments ago. "..can i touch you?"

you nod once more and he hesitantly pulls you against his chest. it's getting harder and harder to keep your emotions in check, especially with the slow circles his hand is drawing on your back.

"i was so scared, toji," you finally admit, voice barely above a whisper.

"i know, but you're safe now. won't let 'im touch you ever again," he promises, fully intent on keeping it.

his words push you over the edge and you grab at his shirt as you begin to weep, your knees buckling beneath you. he supports your weight, rocking you back and forth. "you're okay. it's going to be okay."

after a minute or two, he finally hears you take a shaky breath and relief fills his chest at the sound. "see? just like that, baby. in and out."

you do as he says and after a few more breaths, he pulls away from you and takes your hand. "c'mon. let's get you cleaned up."

leading you into his apartment, he goes straight to the bathroom. you gasp when he grabs you by the hips and hoists you up onto the counter before searching for his first aid kit. when he pulls it down from the cabinet, he moves to stand between your legs.

grabbing you by the chin, he tilts your head to get a better look your injury. the redness is already transitioning to a darker hue and he knows it'll look even worse tomorrow.

"gonna clean the cut, okay? it might sting."

"okay," you sniffle.

he rips open an alcohol wipe, dabbing it gently against your cheekbone. when you wince in pain, he offers a quiet apology, but he's finished before long, having applied a bit of ointment as well.

"thank you," you murmur.

both of his hands find your thighs, resting on the area just above your knees. "don't thank me. not for this."

there's an edge to his voice, but you know it's not directed toward you. your hands settle on top of his own, quelling his anger for the time being.

"you know," he grunts, his gaze lingering on your cheek before it shifts toward your eyes. "i could never lay a hand on you."

his expression is much softer now than it was in the hallway and he savors the small smile that tugs at your lips. "i know, toji."

as he looks down at you, he knows he's done for. hell, he's known it for a while now. you deserve to be adored. taken care of. made to feel good... and toji is more than confident in his ability to do so.

for a fleeting moment, he considers the fact it wouldn't be hard to find out where your boyfriend lives, to make sure he never raises a hand to you again, but your gentle voice pulls him from his thoughts.

"can i stay with you tonight?" you ask meekly.

"yeah, 'course.. you can stay as long as you need."

jjk taglist: @torusmochi

#m!writes #toji #toji x reader #toji imagines #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines

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astermath · 11 months

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sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then.

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top.

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.”

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes.

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know.

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground.

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing.

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm.

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?”

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.”

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least.

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!”

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool.

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.”

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work.

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating.

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

#aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto #carmenmath #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto fan fiction #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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astupidweeb69 · 1 month

Note

You know x-virus don’t get enough love…. Do you have any head cannons regular or nsfw (maybe both)??

I've been thinking about this guy a lot lately for some reason. Also I've never written for Cody before so hopefully this came out okay.

I was going to work on Toby's but.... I have more inspiration for Cody at the moment. He absolutely doesn't get enough love!

X-Virus Headcannons

SFW

Isn't related to Toby at all. In fact doesn't really look like him either. Sure, he's got the brown hair, but he looks waaay more dorky than Toby does. While Toby has kind of a boy-next-door-from-hell look to him, Cody is more slender and works out less. He looks like your typical STEM student (sickly complexion, poor nutrition, etc.). His whole schtick requires him to stay indoors most of the time, in a make-shift lab.

Has a refrigerated van, which he paid to be converted to safely transport whatever science experiments he's got going on in a temperature-controlled environment.

He tries to stay in one place. He's less of a drifter than most of the other creeps but sometimes... the things he does requires him to uproot his life and start over in another town. (No Cody you can't just infect your landlord with a mutated form of tuberculosis when they raise your rent! There will be consequences!)

Has kind of a nasally voice. I feel like he always has a bit of a cold too.

Ironically has a shitty immune system, and probably drinks those Airborne Immune Support drink mixes like it's his job. Also a germaphobe, wearing medical gloves all the time, and his hands are dry and cracked from overusing sanitizer.

LOVES Re-animator. He's rewatched that movie more times than he can count. But he has a love for science fiction movies in general, with horror elements to them. Like Alien.

Also loves zombie apocalypse movies, but that's an obvious one. Specifically 28 Days Later and World War Z.

Sometimes he's like... should I try to make a zombie virus? nah.... unless...?

I also think he was raised by a single father, who worked for a large pharmaceutical company.

Antisocial. I know Toby and him are compared a lot and people give them similar 'hyperactive' personalities, but I don't see that for Cody at all.

Cody's more focused, and is less inclined to interact with others. He doesn't really get lonely?

I'd say he'd get along okay with someone like EJ (both like science, ya know?).

Toby and him hang out a bit - they'll stay in and watch movies together. Or Cody will tag along with him to a bar and watch as Toby fails to pick up anybody. Cody wouldn't say it to his face, but it makes him feel better about his own social skills to see Toby strike out like that.

NSFW (Under the cut!)

I don't know how he'd find himself in this situation - but if he DID have a partner.... the sex would be kind of bland at first?

He doesn't know what he wants and frankly is too much of a germaphobe to get up close and personal with someone he doesn't know well.

You'd have to spend months getting to know him for him to feel comfortable to engage in anything sexual.

I think at the start of the relationship, he'd want to experiment with voyeurism.

He'd be across the room watching you touch yourself, giving you directions while he slowly strokes his cock, loving the feeling of ordering you around.

But as things escalate, of course, he'd give in to his urges. However, the voyeurism would become how he likes to foreplay.

Out of all the creeps (most of whom I view as being dominant) he's actually pretty tame.

He whimpers a lot, and it sounds almost pathetic when he moans. He's been holding out for so long for the right person, and when he finally gets to fuck he's absolutely drunk off of you.

That said, his sex drive is about average.

One of his roleplay fantasies is him being the experienced scientist, and you being his lovely little assistant.

Probably started after the first time you helped him in his lab.

He just kept thinking of you in a tiny little lab coat, bent over his desk - papers and test tubes falling to the ground while his hips piston into you.

#creepypasta #my writing #fanfiction #creepypasta headcanon #x-virus x reader #x-virus smut #x-virus headcannons #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta smut #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader

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diordeer · 2 months

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౨ৎ PINK VENOM

“and I'm wyling, styling on them and there's no chance, cause we got bodies on bodies like this a slow dance” - blackpink (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x blackpink!reader, face claim is jisoo

description: confession! im not really a blackpink fan but i still thought this was cute so was like ill try but i apologise if i absolutely butchered this… also, whats like a good time to get prom dresses bc my prom isnt for 5 months but im stressing like a lot of girls have already ordered their dresses!

requested by: anonymous

Liked by roses_are_rosie, iamcharliebushnell and others

yn.ln thank you so much for having us vogue!

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user1 once again… DEVOURED!

user2 THEY LOOK SO GOOD OMG

leahsavajeffries omg @iamcharliebushnell

↳ iamcharliebushnell dont tag me in this ur being so obvious!!

↳ leahsavajeffries i didnt say anything!!

↳ walker.scobell yeah you put yourself in that position

↳ yn.ln 😃

↳ iamcharliebushnell oh my god

↳ leahsavajeffries get urself together!

user3 the aesthetics!!

user4 the second this vogue comes out im SPRINTING to the shops

user7 love you guys 🫶🫶

user5 sorry sorry sorry, is no one going to talk about charlie in the comment section?

↳ user6 YH WHAT WAS THAT AB?

user8 aaqhhh i love this smmm!!

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yn.ln 🫶🫶

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user1 u guys are so cute 😖

↳ yn.ln 😘😘

↳ user1 OMG U REPLIED HIHIHI

user2 i love them to the moon and back

↳ user3 to the moon and to saturn*

iamcharliebushnell you look so pretty in the second photo!

↳ dior.n.goodjohn oohh making moves

↳ yn.ln only in the second photo 🤨🤨🤔🤔

↳ iamcharliebushnell NO! Thats not what i mean! You look pretty in ALL the photos just ESPECIALLY the second one!

↳ yn.ln mmmkaaayyy

↳ walker.scobell LMFAO HE FUMBLED

sydney_sweeney i loveee youu

↳ yn.ln love u moree 🫶

user4 i actually cant read charlies comments, WHAT IS HE DOING

↳ aryansimhadri hes trying his best 😞

user5 i LOVE how the whole percy jackson has adopted themselves into yn’s comment section

↳ leahsavajeffries home sweet home 🏡

↳ dior.n.goodjohn we are all here to watch charlie embarrass himself

↳ walker.scobell ^^

↳ yn.ln its cute!

↳ dior.n.goodjohn you do NOT want to see charlie on the group chat after you sent that

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yn.ln life rn?!

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user1 what was that 😃

user2 OMG WHO IS THIS?!?!

user3 guys thats SO charlie, hes literally obsessed with yn in her comment section and hes in her likes too!!

↳ walker.scobell i dont think he could ever land her lets be real

↳ iamcharliebushnell WOW?

user4 i need a man to hold my heels

dior.n.goodjohn i really wonder who this is 🤔

↳ jennierubyjane its such a mystery!

↳ user3 SO IT IS CHARLIE!!

↳ dior.n.goodjohn you said it not me!

user5 okay but can we appreciate her fit for a hot sec

↳ user6 like the skirt!! Omgg

roses_are_rosie 🤭🤭

user8 @iamcharliebushnell confirm or deny?

↳ iamcharliebushnell im sworn to secrecy

↳ yn.ln well you just blew it

↳ iamcharliebushnell sorry 😞😞

↳ yn.ln i think everyone knew already anyways 😘

↳ user4 GUYS ITS CONFIRMED!!

↳ user3 girl i think its been pretty much confirmed for ages already

↳ user4 okay… but officially 🙄

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle @xyzstar

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #smau #social media au #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #blackpink

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tibbythetiger · 6 months

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Okay, so what I’m thinking is that Mike is a BoyFailure™️, he’s probably worked at every single place in town, or at the very least tried. I’m imagining, in his large job pursuit, he had a brief stint working at Sparky’s. This is how he and Ness meet, I imagine at first they start Mike out as a server, so he’s being trained by Ness. Ness, who yes, Mike thinks grudgingly, is kinda cute, if not mostly annoying (the guy never stops talking) and meanwhile, Ness is just enamored with someone who just lets him talk (again, he never really stops.) Over the course, of his training, Mike decides that maybe Ness is a little more cute and funny, than annoying, but decides not to bother even trying anything. He knows he’s a mess, and he has Abby (not to mention, he’s pretty sure he’s not going to be a server here for much longer, because as nice as Ness is, Mike cannot seem to pick up an ounce of that when he’s speaking to customers). They eventually do decide, that Mike cannot handle being around customers, and decide to put him in the kitchen, much to everyone else who works at the diner’s chagrin, because at this point, Ness has decided he also thinks that Mike is cute and kinda funny when he lets himself talk to people. A Ness with a crush is loud, flirty, easily flustered, and always in Mike’s space. This means Ness is always in the kitchen, and his service starts to slack, coupling that with the fact that Mike cannot seem to cook anything without starting it on fire (or worse, injuring himself) Sparky’s sadly lets him go. Ness is devastated, as Mike is cagey about personal details, and won’t give out his phone number so he’s sure he’ll never see him again. Because he’s overdramatic, he’s moping around the diner for weeks afterward; then he walks out one day to serve a table. It’s a cute little girl, sitting by herself drawing a picture. Ness is great with kids, and it’s obvious she’s probably waiting for someone in the bathroom, so he strikes up a conversation with her, even making her laugh when lo and behold, who sits down but his long lost love, Mike. At first, Ness is shocked, because surely this means that Mike was kinda shutting him down before because he’s straight, or maybe in a long-term relationship. But still, he bucks up, takes their order and as the two are leaving he tells Mike he makes a pretty cute kid. (Mike and Abby react pretty similarly to this as they did when Vanessa thought they were parent/child) From then on, Abby and Mike end up becoming regulars, and Abby adores Ness. He’s one of the few people she’ll talk to, and once she even draws him a picture of him, she and Mike (Ness and Mike both try to act like this is not a Big Deal, despite Ness framing it in his apartment) Mike and Ness still lowkey flirt, and even exchange phone numbers (for Abby, is Mike’s reasoning, but Ness is so overjoyed he just brushes away the very flimsy excuse) As the events of the movie take place, and with Mike’s new schedule, they’re unable to stop in, and only exchange a few phone calls. (Ness does overhear the conversation with Jan, Max and her brother, he leaves vm, after vm for Mike but he never sees them, and then Jan deletes them when she’s at the house) I also am assuming that the diner is 24hrs, and Ness is one of the few servers, so he’s unable to watch Abby to keep the original plot of the movie progressing the same.

That’s what I got for now!! I’m coming to visit this again and add some more for post-movie development, or maybe write this out as an actual fic!! If someone decides to write this themselves, please feel free to, just credit me and tag me in it so I can read it!! <3

#securitywaiter #ness the waiter #mike schmidt #mike x ness

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angelslittlewritingcorner · 21 days

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DESIRE

(Adam x Lute x Reader)

After you gave so much love to the first part of the series, I thought I'd post the second this week. A little more fluff this time, but the next part will be very spicy. Have fun with it.

Tags: @mournings-stars

Synopsis: Y/N just wanted to spend some wholesome time with her lovers but they had other plans.

Part 2 (of 3)

Part 1

Warnings: Language

Y/N straightened her shoulders and opened the bathroom door. "Yes, I'm ready," she said and let her eyes wander over Lute. She was actually wearing the dress she had just bought. It clung perfectly to her curves and Y/N had to avert her eyes. Even if Lute was an angel, she was made for sin. Damn, she was already thinking like Adam. He came up behind Lute and scrutinised Y/N. "Woah damn girls you look really hot" Lute just rolled her eyes and punched Adam lightly in the arm. Y/N also looked at her other lover and couldn't help but grin slightly. "Adam? Is that gel in your hair and you're wearing a jacket?" He just grinned and his nose coloured slightly pink. "So can we then?" Lute asked, a little more annoyed and held out his hand again. Y/N nodded and grabbed her handbag before the three of them left the flat.

Holding Lute's hand felt incredibly good. She looked quite petite, but her grip was firm and firm. Adam walked next to them and talked about a dog he'd seen the other day that had totally dragged its owner through the mud because it had seen another dog. "And then he dragged him all over the park. I really thought the ice cream was going to fall out of my hand I laughed so hard." His two girls just grinned at the story and threw in a few comments here and there. Once Adam started talking, he never stopped. Y/N thinks it's because he was alone for so long after Lilith and Eve left him. You could really feel sorry for him.

When she first met him, she thought he was just a jerk who was self-absorbed and reckless. Just like the high school jocks in the TV series on Earth. But after getting to know him better and seeing behind his façade, she realised that he longed for love and acceptance. Things he would never admit to, of course, but were very obvious when you knew him.

The three of them arrived at the elegant restaurant and quickly took the seats they had ordered. As they were all quite hungry, they immediately began to check out the menu. "Really a fancy place," said Adam and grinned at Lute out of the corner of his eye, "Yeah, you'd never have thought of such an idea, you Dickmaster." He just rolled his eyes and grinned behind the menu. God those two were cute when they weren't out for blood and fighting. Y/N thought about the little surprise she had in her handbag. When would be the best time to give it to them? Before dinner? After? She decided to give them the present while they were waiting for the food.

After a few minutes, a waiter came and took their orders. He also placed a glass of crystal clear fresh water in front of each of them. No matter how many times Y/N saw the food and gifts of heaven, it was still a mystery to her how everything could be so clear and clean. Every colour seemed brighter and more intense. Lute took a sip from her glass and then put it down. "Y/N darling … why are you looking like that? What's bothering you?" "N-Nothing's bothering me I… well" she took a deep breath "It's just that I have something for you both because today is such a special day." None of the three would ever admit to dating in public. What would people think if they knew it was a three-way relationship? Unfortunately, they didn't realise that they were so obvious that everyone already knew. Y/N reached into her handbag and handed her two lovers a small parcel each.

Curious, the two opened it and stared at the contents for a moment. The parcels contained a bracelet for each of them with the initial letters of the three of them. "I made them myself. The band is made of leather and the letters are made of silver." "That's really pretty," said Lute, her eyes taking on a warm glow. She took the bracelet and held it out to Y/N. "Will you make it for me baby?" She nodded and carefully put the bracelet on her. Adam was silent the whole time and just held out his arm. Y/N put the bracelet on him too. She had been wearing her own since she had left. Why didn't Adam say anything? Didn't he like it? Too cheesy? Too feminine? But she didn't dare ask, after all, she had her pride. Luckily, the food arrived and took the decision off her hands.

After the meal, they paid and went back to their flat together. "Kitten" Y/N turned to Adam. "We have a little surprise for you too" She raised an eyebrow curiously and Adam gripped the side of her waist and led her in the direction of the bedroom....

#hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin vaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #adam #adam x lute x reader #adam x lute #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute x reader #lute #guitarspear

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leonsleftbicep · 22 days

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sleep token bakery au?

IV runs a bakery (for obvious reasons) Vessel, II, and III are all customers, the echos/esperas work there as well.

Vessel, II, and III all know each other. the Echos know the three as usuals. IV doesn’t know who they are really.

II was captivated by IV’s ivy tattoo on his forearm, Vessel was enamored by IV’s downturned eyes, and III.. well it was IV’s “bakery”.

obviously polyvessels ensues in some way. my brains saying II was the first to notice, but III was the first to get close.

as in

II started to hint a bit to IV about his attraction. but in a very “how the fuck do i tell this man he is gorgeous and i want to wake up next to him each morning” type of way.

II just simply said “i like your tattoos, how long have you had the ivy?” but then he connected the dots at that moment when he read IV’s name tag which said ‘IVy’.

also i think it would be funny and kinda cute if IV realized his attraction, when II walked into the bakery in a very wide V-neck long sleeve (his neck tattoo is ON DISPLAY!!) with the sleeves rolled up. II’s hair up, very much just got a hair cut and actually shaved and trimmed for once. i just think it’s silly.

III is the one that asked IV out first because they were completely enamored by this ‘Ivy’ guy their partners wont stop blabbering about, and the two of them weren’t doing shit so. III asked out IV on a date to some shitty bar with a band playing that night. the two of them got a bit tipsy and danced together. III ended up in IV’s apartment that night.

Vessel was the last to catch on, too nervous to actually ask so it just waited a couple months till IV handed them a scone and just smiled and asked “want to help me in the kitchen some time? we usually prepare the sour dough the night before so, if you want to it will just be me and you” with a smile.

the two of them actually got work done, IV was absolutely delighted with the facts he was getting out of Vess. first thing IV asked Vessel was if they where a musician of some kind, “only reason i ask is because you hum and tap your fingers to the music that plays around here.” which was the half truth. the other reason why IV asked, was because he noticed the callouses on Vessels finger tips.

with IV and Vessels mutual love for music, they hit it off pretty well.

after all three of them have now built a relationship with IV. IV just finally kinda connected the dots after watching how the three interact with each other. “are you guys a throuple?” is what iv asked when II grabbed their orders. “well we don’t put a name to it.. but i guess you could call it that?” is all II could say

ivy just blushed as he realized he had a chance to be with all of them. after talking to the Echos extensively while they all clean. the girls just decide to become IV’s wing man.

…

protag ivy my love

enjoy this shit, you never know i might make this a full fledged thing.

#sleep token #the duck has thoughts #the duck can write #sleep token band #vessel #sleepy cryptid boys #sleep token vessel #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token headcanons #sleep token iii #iii sleep token #sleep token ii #vessel iv #iii #sleep token iv #bakery au

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vinetae · 1 year

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Sleepless Hours - JJK

summary: sharing a bed wasn't the easiest thing for Jungkook. Especially when it's sleeping next to Namjoon's friend... AKA, his crush..

Genre: Fluff, Smut, comedy, F2L, Only one bed trope

Warnings: cute talks and cuddles. More cuddles. Jimin's a cockblock. Mentions of Jungkook's dick once- no. Twice. Dummies in love, late night talks and cuddles.

A/n: Smut update because someone tagged this sad excuse for a oneshot in their masterlist recs. Actually I took the banner pic lol. So aestheticccc. Maybe I wrote a whole fanfic just for the purpose of sharing this pic

Maybe I didn't. You'll never know.

----

Your hand pushes down onto the hotel's door, sliding the keyboard back to Jungkook's hand once he sets all the bags down. You chuckle, as Jimin shuts the door behind you three.

"You know, I could've carried my own stuff, Kook." He smiles, shaking his head. "Nah, nah. I needed the workout."

Your eyes roll, as you begin to unpack you things. Namjoon had invited you to the LA tour with him, not knowing that girlfriend had been wanting to go too. So, Jungkook ended up buying you an extra ticket, ironically sat right beside him. And when you had to figure out sleeping arrangements, Jungkook kept you tight and close. Suggesting that you could bunk with him and Jimin in their hotel room for the trip since Namjoon's girlfriend had been wanting some.. alone time with her spouse. *So to say*..

You reach up to pop your back, groaning from exhaustion. "So," you shake your head, along with your body to rid itself of the sleepiness. "Who's sleeping where?"

They both share a similar look, eyebrows raising. Jungkook speaks up. "Oh.. we didn't really think about that.."

Your arms cross playfully, slinging your clean clothes across your arm, planning on heading into the shower once their Vlive starts. The walls had been pretty thick, so you're almost positive the fans wouldn't be able to hear water running. If they had, jimin said he could say that Hobi's shower hadn't been working and just decided to crash with them for the night.

Jungkook takes a glance around the room, watching as you're quick to pull out the sofa bed in one go. You straighten up, dusting your hands off as if they had been dirty. "What?" You ask, head tilting at his surprised look.

He shakes his head. "Nothing it's just.."

Jimin cuts in, popping a small French fry into his mouth. "He thinks it's hot."

Your lips curve into a smile, shrugging. "Well it's winter right now but.. it might get a little hot later if we leave the A/C off." Jungkook chuckles at your overlook of his Hyung's comment, grabbing the phone to start and order some food.

Jimin rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath at your obvious miss of his hint.

—-

Jungkook thanking the man, before letting you know it had been safe to come out of hiding from the barn-doored bathroom. He sets the delivery bags down, locking the door behind himself.

"Oh uhm- Y/n if you can go ahead and eat that'd be great." He comments, while Jimin's already on the floor, using the little move-able foot stool as a table.

You nod, grabbing some of your things to eat at the table alone while the two boys had set everything for the live.

They sure did love their fans, you thought. A smile tugging your lips as you begin to dig in.

—-

Your hands come to reach upwards, removing the last bit of clothing before stepping into the fogged up shower. It had been one of the luxurious showers you'd have ever taken. A gold nob and handles on the side, with stone marble tiles and flooring. LED lights rimmed the crystal clear reflection in the mirror, making it seem as if it had almost been a portal of some sort.

Yeah, a portal to richness.

Once you heard the two boys bidding a farewell to the stream, you walk out of the bathroom sporting a button up loose flannel, with some knee cut shorts. Jungkook's head turns from the side to admire your attire.

"Wow.."

You chuckle silently, taking a seat over by the table as to not cause any disturbance.

Too late.

Jungkook's cock was now harder than learning English. His eyes followed up the trails and dips of your thighs, before settling on the sculpture of your entire shown frame. Anything he could see, he basked in. Anything of yours, he practically wished he could have between his lips.

It wasn't until Jimin had to stab at his leg under the table non-chalantly, acting as if he'd been trying to read the comments that had been speeding by. Jungkook flinches, eyes trying to focus on what had been on hand here. His hand comes to reach for a pillow, using it to lean on for the live. When in actuality, it had been concealing how much he really liked you.

—-

You sigh, flopping to the back of the couch, as the two boys stayed flat on the floor, continuing to eat the rest of their delivered rice and Jajangmyeon noodles. Jungkook sat between the space just in front of your legs… on accident.

Or so he had claimed.

When in reality, he'd been using the sneakiest tactics to try and slowly lean further and further against your thighs without you noticing.

You had. Obviously.

Your mouth gaps, letting a large yawn escape. Eyes lulling shut, playing a mental game of 'sleep no sleep'. You lay back onto the pull out sofa bed, snuggling into the comfort of it's cozy sheet set. Once the two had been done eating their meals, they started to clean up. Careful as to not disturb your half asleep figure. Jimin leans close to jungkook while washing the beer Glas he'd been drinking from during dinner.

"So, you sleeping there with her?" Jungkook nods, setting one more glass into the sink for his Hyung to wash. Jimin's eyes glance towards your sleepy self, chuckling.

"Do I need to go ask if I can sleep with Hoseok?" Jungkook's cheeks redden, shrugging.

"No no, I'm kidding. No, you can stay, Hyung. I'm really tired anyways." Jimin's eyebrow quirks, not truly believing his younger brother-figure, but is too exhausted from the long flight to even care at this point.

Once Jimin's done with the dishes, he makes his way towards the king suite bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Jungkook turns to the side, startled by your sat up and perked figure.

"Hey." You shyly comment, as he's making his way towards the bed, fixing some of the sheets.

"Hey" he mirrors, before making his way to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he returns, prepped and ready for a goodnight sleep. Well.. what he thought he'd have a good night sleep in.

Turns out, you're a huge bed hog. Twisting over to the opposite side, snatching away 92% of his comforter. He rolls to your side, gently leaning over your body to shake you awake.

"Y/n.." he softly calls out.

"Y/n.." a little louder.

Then,

"Y/N! He yelps, sighing in frustration from your lack of response.

Alright then. You were a heavy sleeper as well.

His hand comes to lightly graze your shoulder, trying once more to calmly wake you. Your body rolls onto it's back, as your begin to let out little snores.

Cute, Jungkook thought.

He tugs the blanket a bit more, trying to get comfortable on his back, letting out a relaxed sigh.

Until an arm hits him in the face.

Sitting up, he's quick to assess the room, chuckling from seeing that it had been your arm. Not some crazy fan trying to kidnap him.

He lays back down once again, shuffling with the paper-like sheets before finally finding a comfortable position. As his eyes are finally being able to drift to dreamland, a figure wraps itself around his midsection. Legs tangling up in his, on their own. His eyes peep open, head turning to the side to smile at your cute position. Face nuzzle into his side, digging its way to move his arm up and around you.

Yet, you had still remained completely unconscious.

"Jeez, Y/n.. you could sleep through a zombie apocalypse, huh?" He chuckles.

You nod, "mhm".

His eyes widen, lowering his head to sleep that you'd been completely awake and aware now. Eyes drawing into his, as your arms come around to pull him your body closer.

Ohhh shit.

There goes his dick again.

"I-I.. didn't know you were awake.." Your lips tug into smile, lifting your head to rest it on the crease of his shoulder. Eyes doe-like and wide, gazing into his own.

The world seemed to stand still. Not a sound was to made. A breath to be exhaled. As if it has just been you and hi-

"Jungkook I asked if I was needing to go sleep with Hobi tonight.." Jimin chuckles, throwing a pillow to your side of the bed. Before you know it, you're squished between the two very differentiating men. Jungkook's arm wrapped around your body to keep your close to him, as Jimin laid to the side of you, turned to face the brightly lit window's nightly glow.

Jungkook's head lifts to glance over to Jimin. "Uh- Hyung, I thought you were sleeping in the king bed."

Jimin chuckles, turning to face Jungkook, as you pull yourself closer into his embrace. Jimin's lips fall quietly, as he calmly speaks.

"Namjoon said he doesn't trust you with his friend." Jungkook faints a hurt expression, gasping.

"Me? Why not?"

Jimin's eyebrows wiggle, eyes quickly taking a glance to Jungkook's prominent cock poking through the sheets.

"Oh, I don't know. Just a guess."

Jimin laughs softly, before rolling over to rhe middle, scooting in between the two of you. You sigh, lightly hitting at Jimin's shoulder, making him smile.

"Abuse me all you want. I'm not letting there be any baby Kookies running around anytime soon."

With this, you and Jungkook both decide in unanimously giving up after ten minutes of try to persuade his hyung, who'd been stone cold.

And Jungkook had still been stone hard.

Settling for falling asleep while holding hands across Jimin's lightly snoring body.

Letting sleep consume the three of you in a peaceful manner.

------

It's 2am, I'm going to sleep lol.

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

just the facts

rating: t ♥️ cw: Lady Applejack's enduring awesomeness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, steddie in their 20s, erica sinclair, steve and eddie stay local until the entire party is safely graduated, slice of life, softness, canon fact: erica coins term 'dumpster fire' for the ages, SCOOPS TROOP FOR LIFE 🍦🍨

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: Love is Co-Parenting (@shares-a-vest)

still the boys who grow into the husbands in je ne regrette rien but let’s roll back to the early 90s ♥️

“So, Stanford?”

She raises a brow around the straw in her mouth when Steve speaks and god: she’s grown up so fucking much, but that look, when Eddie glances back to the table as he listens in to their conversation: that look’s the first time he encountered the formidable half-elf a fucking lifetime ago when he was an asshole and she schooled him from the start—he should have been better prepared for the emotional whirlwind to come, at least, from there; or if nothing else, more mindful of the foreshadowing.

And he thought himself some masterful storyteller, Jesus fuck: he was both cocky and naive.

“When I go to law school it’s gonna be on the east coast, so,” she slurps noisily, unbothered, around the ice in the glass; “cover both bases.”

“Take the country by storm,” Steve nods with that warm grin that melts liquid in Eddie’s chest, every time, every day, never stopping: “very you.”

“Can’t run until I’m 35 which,” Erica shrugs, but then she flips her hair and shoots that grin that holds all the fucking secrets: “America without Erica is a travesty,” she’s got her thumb and forefinger pinched as she emphasizes the syllables hard, then snorts so derisively she might as well be the originator of the term; maybe, like, in a past life or something.

“I could run right this minute and do better than what’s there now,” she rolls her eyes and snaps her wrist decisively before stating, y’know, the obvious:

“Just the facts.”

Eddie catches Steve’s lips curl down, brow furrow as he words something out and he’s so fucking gorgeous, he’s so goddamn precious, and Eddie’s heart just kinda flip-flops around to watch him like this, relaxed and soft and happy and proud and a little bit piqued by the innocuous, and they all worked damn hard to get here, but, like.

Here is incredible.

“He just got into office in January,” Steve points out, and Eddie grins as he gathers their orders and arranges on the tray for balance, loves how he wasn’t even worried for what his partner was mulling over with the crinkle in his brow, didn’t even pause to think it was something bad and that’s such a…a new normal and Eddie wants to leap into the air and whoop for the joy of it, but: kinda got his hands full.

Maybe later.

“Plenty of time to impress me, and fail to,” Erica’s scoffing in reply before she huffs: “considering the dumpster fires that preceded him.”

“The what fires?” Steve asks, eyes so big, so fucking pretty.

“I said what I said,” Erica leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and…it’s so comfortable. It’s so innocent, the whole scene, the three of them here, and Eddie loves this, he loves them, he’s just…

It’s a life he never imagined, y’know? It’s a reality he didn’t even factor in when spinning the wheel of possibility in his head, and yes, okay, they went through hell for it, he almost died for it, but he found a family in it; he found the love of his life in it—on balance there’s no fucking question as to where he landed so far toward the good that ‘good’ seems kinda insultingly inadequate as a descriptor at all.

He needs to think up a better word, for sure.

“M’lady,” Eddie bows as he unloads the tray when he gets back to the table, presenting Erica’s five-scoop tower of ice cream with a flourish: “many effusive congratulations to you,” he settles the bowl in front of her and leans to drum his fingers on the cap with the floofy tassel they’d badgered her to bring for photos; “on to new adventures far afoot,” Eddie continues, unloading Steve’s banana split—a true treat more for Eddie to watch him eat than for Steve to taste himself, because fucking hell—and then his own hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream topped higher than the fucking glass, before he plops down next to Steve, the pair of them side-by-side across from Erica in the booth as he grins at her, because shit: he’s fucking proud, too:

“The denizens of Palo Alto will stand in awe of your grandeur,” he gestures with extra grandiosity with his spoon before he grabs the cherry, glances around for safety before offering it straight to Steve’s mouth, pulling the stem out teasingly when Steve bites and hiding the full stretch of his smile behind a big shovel-full of chocolatey-flakes on the whip.

And he and Steve are quiet, but don’t really dive in because they’re watching, waiting: Erica rolls her eyes at their antics, even if they were subtle, and goes for a bite herself, and okay, moment of truth—

Her eyes speak for her again, then, but to get very, very big as she stills, then slowly takes the spoon from her mouth and pins them with a stare:

“This is,” her mouth works around a whole lot of silence as she stares at her perfect quintuple-scoop array, because it’s all one flavor. And it’s all a flavor she mostly ragged on for being annoyingly on-brand that first summer, Eddie’s heard the stories, but still asked for extra samples of it every goddamn time, to when he and Steve had both been talked more than once to drive out to the nearest location and ‘fulfill the contract’ sworn that fateful July, a task that got more difficult every year as the chain thinned its numbers, until there weren’t any on this side of the state, then none on this side of the border, then just: none in the Midwest, period, and Erica?

She could try to hide it all she wanted, but she was sad. Because that girl had a favorite. And this, here?

Fucking U.S.S. Butterscotch? Hell yeah, it is.

“Called in a favor,” which Steve probably means to sound like he leveraged Eddie’s currently less-than-moderate celebrity or something, but what actually means he charmed the minimum wage high schooler in Portland, because Scoops Ahoy was out West now, and only had about 10 locations left—but he’d convinced the kid to let him buy a whole gallon, paid a premium for cold storage shipping, and then bribed the owner here with ample documentation of proper product preservation and transfer prior to sale, plus a couple crisp Benjamins, to convince the guy to sell it for one day, only to Steve and his guests—given it was a licensed product the parlor wasn’t a retailer for. The favor was the real power behind what passed for the Harrington charm for all those years and it was simply genuine and full-bodied Steve: charming, god yes, charming as fuck but good and kind and earnest and determined, pushy and snarky but more often wielded for the benefit of others than for himself—not to mention persuasive with those puppy-dog eyes.

Because, like, fuck: all these years and Eddie’s still weak for those goddamn eyes.

He lets himself stare at Steve and just, take him in for a little while until Steve feels his gaze—doesn’t take long, they’re aware of each other as a default mods—and lifts those impossible eyes for Eddie to drown in and feel warm inside his veins when they light up for the smile Steve flashes his way.

Fuck, but Eddie loves him.

“When are you coming to visit, then?” Erica breaks the spell; licks her spoon clean before aiming it at them pointedly. They glance at each other—she kinda means the world to them, they’ve grown close with her especially once all the other kids skedaddled, and Eddie thinks he’s not…he’s not surprised, and he thinks he knew she’d want them to visit. He thinks Steve knew that, too.

But he knows, like he knows his own heartbeat and Steve’s even better: Eddie knows Steve feels just as warm and touched and like, fucking moved a little by how she treats it like a given.

“When do you want us there?” Steve asks and yeah, he’s smooth about it, composed and shit, but Eddie knows his voice inside-out and backward. He can hear the emotion stayed back underneath.

“When are you planning to move?”

They don’t even really pause at the way she knows without them saying; she’s the only person who hasn’t outright suggested they get the fuck out of Hawkins, finally. Kinda like they never had to say they were staying until all of their family was accounted for and on their way in the world, safe and sound and whole.

“Nothing’s in stone, yet,” Steve offers, poking Eddie’s foot under the table.

“But you’re looking,” Erica, again, already knows; doesn’t pose it as a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles down at his sundae, and links his hand with Steve between them on the seat; “we’re thinking Chi-town,” because that’s been the front-runner for a while, now, of the cities they’ve considered. Because it doesn’t even have to be forever, they don’t have to commit to a place and never leave—because the only forever-thing in all of this, in anything, is them. Just Steve and Eddie, them two: together.

Wherever they end up.

“Mmm,” Erica considers before scooping another spoon of mostly-butterscotch swirl: “I can see that.”

“You can, can you?” Steve volleys with a smirk, and she lets him goad her into laying out how she knows them, how she sees them, because…it’s maybe strange but then maybe not but it’s always felt special, with her. Maybe because she’s grown up more than any of them, for Steve and Eddie to watch. Maybe because she’s so goddamn smart, that her observations come out near-unchallengable.

Maybe because they both know she loves them, and she knows they love her, and it’s never been…awkward, like it had been in spots with the shitheads over time. It was just understood.

“Big but not huge,” Erica ticks off the reasons for her assessment; “music scene’s decent,” she nods to Eddie, who nods back gracious; “good schools,” she leans to Steve, and yep, that was a huge factor, whether Steve could love his job; “liberal…ish,” she eyes them, and how close they sit, meaningfully before tacking on: “familiar weather.”

Steve huffs a little laugh and Eddie just beams at her: not a single thing wrong there. She’s got them dead to rights, and he kinda loves that about her; so much.

“Semester ends first week of December,” she focuses back on her bowl and speaks with authority, like whatever she’s proposing isn’t a suggestion, just a notice: “if you guys are still here,” she shakes the full spoon in her hand and raises an eyebrow: “I expect ice cream.”

Steve just nods as she pops the spoonful in her mouth whole-on.

“Scoops Troop for life,” he agrees and Eddie perks, always ready when that label pops up.

“Plus honorary trooper,” he chimes in, and Erika grins around her spoon a little as Steve leans close and can’t kiss him here, but Eddie knows well what it means to feel Steve’s breath against the line of his neck like he’s jest stretching past him, like it could be innocent as Steve murmurs low—

“Always.”

And can feel the heat rise in his cheeks, and the flutter in his chest, because…because he’s in love, goddamnit, and it’s been one of the most incredible surprises to learn that he can love so big, and get love so big back in kind, that the feeling never fades, he can always feel weightless and boneless and overwhelmed in the best of ways for just this man near to him, just the pitch of his voice and the promise of his breath on Eddie’s skin.

“You’re cute,” Erika says, the judgement in her tone tempered low as her lips still quirk; “and this is delicious,” she points her spoon again at the remaining ice cream and the tiny puddle it’s melting between the remaining scoops. “So I’ll allow it,” she nods to their pressed-together shoulders and goes back to eating, but never loses the tiny grin and he and Steve both know how much that means, from her.

“But if you’re already there,” she continues when she starts collecting the saucer bits at the base of the bowl: “Chicago’s a decent layover spot, probably,” she shrugs; “but still, here or there,” and she pauses with intention before narrowing her eyes with intention:

“Ice cream.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

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meiliarotten · 10 months

Text

And They Were Roomates

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairing: Engineer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Oh my god, they were roomates… Due to the shenanigans of the other mercenaries, your room is now uninhabitable. After a few nights of suffering on the common room couch, Engineer invites you to stay in his quarters. Smut ensues because of course it does!

Tags: Riding, oral, massage, kinda soft, the reader is a bit of a poor little meow meow not sure why I did that, “And There Was Only One Bed! 😯”

Word Count: 5.1k

The Masterlist

How does one accidentally make a lethal bio weapon? To find out you would simply have to ask Medic and Demo. To be more specific, a very drunk Medic and an even more drunk than usual Demo, who had made the joint decision one night that it would be a good idea to mix random chemicals and alcohols in order to, in their own words, “see what would happen.”

The ensuing toxic airborne chemical proceeded to permeate not only the lab, but any room relatively nearby. Unfortunately, that happened to include your own room. Waking up in respawn nearly coughing up a lung was not how you wanted to start your morning, and yet, there you were.

Most of the mercs were speechless when they found out that a good portion of their base would be completely quarantined until the gas could dissipate. Despite being at a loss for words, the few responsible members of the team were quick to scold both Medic and Demoman for several hours- although neither of them seemed to care much. You, however, were especially inconvenienced by this situation, since your room was right in the contamination zone.

At first, you had tried to venture in with a handkerchief pressed against your mouth and nose, just long enough to grab some things from your room. You learned your lesson when you once again woke up in respawn, your lungs and throat burning like you had tried to swallow acid. You should have known better than to think a simple square of cloth would be able to fend off a chemical that had been cooked up by Demo and Medic. Hell, not even Pyro dared to go into the sealed off portion of the base, and they were covered head to toe in a flame resistant suit and gas mask.

In the end, you made peace with the fact that you would be sleeping on the common room couch for several days. It was fine the first couple nights, but it wasn’t long before these new sleeping arrangements began to affect you negatively. You found yourself waking up in weird positions, just from trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, which would usually result in a stiff back or an unrelenting ache that wouldn’t waver for the rest of the day.

Still, you had a job to do, and so whenever anyone asked about a limp or a wince that you couldn’t hide, you would tell them it was nothing and get on with your day. Most would leave you alone then- except for one. The Engineer was the most concerned about your current state of perpetual exhaustion, probably because he was your closest friend on the team. While you wouldn’t mind if your relationship were to be something a bit more than friends, it was something you never had the courage to bring up.

It had been your third day on the couch when he cornered you in the locker rooms after the daily battles had concluded.

“Engie?” you said, wondering what he wanted. Today had been full of some pretty miserable losses, and on such days Engie tended to seclude himself in his room to work on improving his sentry blueprints.

“I want you to sit down here, darlin,’” he said matter of factly, motioning to the bench in the middle of the locker room. “You got pretty roughed up out there today.”

“We all did.” You pointed out the obvious, but you were also too tired to argue. With a sigh, you sat down on the bench. Engie made his way behind you, and you were about to ask him what exactly he thought he was doing when your breath caught in your throat.

Engie placed his hands on your shoulders with care, working his thumbs into your back. He was gentle, gradually increasing the pressure to work out the tightness in your muscles. He located and paid special attention to spots that had been giving you quite a bit of trouble lately with surprising skill.

“God, honey. You’re so tense, just try to relax for me,” he said, shifting his focus from your shoulders to your upper and middle back.

“Well, anything for you.” The words slipped out without you even thinking about it, but Engie didn’t seem to mind, simply humming in response. You were thankful that he either didn’t notice or didn’t mention the blush spreading over your cheeks.

Those hands of his worked wonders, that was for sure. The pressure was perfect as he worked over your muscles with expertise you didn’t know he had. It wasn’t long until the stiffness was nearly gone.

“I can’t believe you’ve been fighting so hard out there while carrying all this tension,” Engie said as he began to work on a particularly troublesome spot around your right shoulder.

“I have to pull my weight, and a bit of pain isn’t about to stop me,” you said matter of factly. You all had to get paid somehow, after all.

“Still, it ain’t fair that you gotta toss and turn all night only to get shot, stabbed, and blown up all day. At least the rest of us have the comfort of our own rooms…” Engie paused, his eyes lighting up as if realizing something obvious. “Oh, well there’s an idea.”

“What?”

“How about you stay in my room for a few days?”

You started stammering, not daring to look back at Engie in case he noticed how red your face was. “Oh, I don’t want to be a burden or anything. Do you even have an extra bed?”

“Oh no, I’ll just take the floor until your room is livable again,” he explained. You couldn’t believe it. Your not-so-subtle workplace crush had just given you a massage and immediately offered up his own bed for your use. Even so, your nerves made you hesitant.

“Engie, you don’t have to do that,” you said, feeling a pang of guilt. “I would be your guest! I’ll take the floor.”

“Nonsense, darlin’! I offered you my room so you wouldn’t be waking up uncomfortable, what’s the point of that if I don’t at least offer you the bed?” You began to stammer and protest again but Engie simply put his hand up to stop you, concluding his decision with a final, “I insist.”

You sighed, realizing that it was a fruitless endeavor to argue. Not to mention you were quite thrilled to be sharing a room with Engie, so why debate over a good thing? Still, you felt a compromise was in order.

“We’ll take turns,” you said, trying to mirror Engie’s own tone of finality. He chuckled at your attempt, which probably came off as more cute than serious. Still, he agreed, perhaps also realizing that arguing the matter wouldn’t be productive.

“Alright, fine,” he conceded. “We’ll take turns.”

—

Engie’s room was quite comfortable, despite the blueprints and sentry parts scattered about. There was a sense of organized chaos to it all, and you were sure if you asked Engie to find something specific he would be able to with no issue. The bed was quite nice as well. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to wake up without aches and pains.

However, that ‘compromise’ regarding the sleeping arrangements barely lasted three days.

One thing you always knew about Engie was that he was the type to go to sleep very late at night, usually after finalizing the details on weapon blueprints, or tinkering with the Gunslinger. However he suddenly became much more keen on turning in early, especially earlier than you. When you would find him fast asleep on the floor of his room, even when it was not his turn, you pretty much had no choice but to take the bed.

You had tried waking him up a few times. It was no use. The man slept like a rock. He was gentlemanly to the point of frustration, but it only made you more fond of him, if not a bit exasperated. It would be a relief when your room was finally cleaned out and livable again.

This arrangement continued until one especially difficult day. A hard battle had ended in an extremely close victory, but nobody had the energy to celebrate. Battered and exhausted, everyone who needed to made their way to Medic for treatment, and then shuffled off to sleep away the lingering soreness. You got to the room before Engie, who was still being patched up, pulled back the covers and collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh.

You were just beginning to doze off when you heard the door open. You lifted your head to see Engie limping into the room- he had taken a few nasty shots to the leg today. The moment you saw him kneeling down to the floor, you spoke up.

“Engie, don’t be ridiculous,” you said, unable to believe that this man was really about to sleep on the cold floor after such an arduous day. He jumped slightly, having assumed you were already asleep. You shifted over to one side of the bed, making a space just large enough for him to occupy. “Come over here.”

The slight blush on his face didn’t go unnoticed by you, even in the dim lighting of the room. He sidled up next to you with a sigh. “Thanks darlin.’”

“It’s no problem. We both deserve to be comfortable after today,” you said. Both of you were still in your day clothes, but neither cared enough to change out of them.

However, despite the exhausting day, neither of you were able to sleep for a while. Perhaps it was the lingering giddiness that came with winning such a close battle. Or, maybe it was the undeniable intimacy of sharing a bed, with little room for personal space and barely a gap between the two of you. Engie was the first to say something when it became obvious that sleep wouldn’t come easy, eager to break the awkward silence that reigned while both of you simply lay awake.

“You know, I’ve always wondered, what led you to join up with a bunch of mercenaries?”

The question caught you off guard. Honestly, there were several complicated reasons and events that led you to where you were now. It certainly wasn’t something you wanted to get into in its entirety.

“Probably the same as all of you. Money gets tight, and eventually you just take whatever you can get,” you said. It wasn’t completely untrue, and Engie seemed to relate.

“Guess I should’ve figured as much,” he said with an understanding nod.

“It’s not all bad though,” you added, hesitating before continuing. “I mean, I’ve made friends here. I met you.”

Engie was silent for a moment before responding. “Well, that’s a meeting I wouldn’t trade for the world, darlin’.”

You prayed that your blush was hidden by the darkness of the room. However when Engie’s hand suddenly came up to your cheek, there was no way he didn’t feel the heat radiating from your face. He didn’t comment on it, and you gave him an inquisitive look as he seemed deep in thought. When he did finally speak, he fumbled with his words for a moment before finally managing to say something coherent.

“May I kiss you?”

It was a short, simple question, impossible to be misinterpreted, and yet your brain couldn’t seem to process the request. Within a moment it felt as if your senses were all running on high alert, culminating in an even shorter, one word answer.

“Yes!” The volume at which you spoke was louder than you meant for it to be, displaying your over-excitement in a way that made you want to cover your face and melt through the mattress. With a deep breath, you managed to regain some of your composure, stammering in an attempt to salvage your response. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I was just trying to say that I would like that. I would like that very much.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” Engie said, looking down at you with a soft smile. You were drawn to that expression, already leaning forward a bit. He was the one to close the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours.

He kept it chaste at first, but you could tell he wanted more. It wasn’t long before you made the first move to deepen the kiss, biting gently at his lower lip until he gasped, allowing you entrance. It was an intense, wordless communication of feelings the two of you hadn’t dared to express until now, set out in the open through the parting of lips and the mingling of tongues, culminating in the two of you panting when the need for air pulled you apart.

You weren’t sure when you had wrapped your arms around his shoulders. And you sure as hell weren’t sure when he ended up on top of you either. In a sudden moment of clarity, your face flushed red and a strange combination of shame and excitement overwhelmed you.

“Sorry. Was that too much?” you asked. Doubt was setting in. Maybe he hadn’t wanted something so… passionate. Maybe you had taken it too far. Engie quelled those fears when he finally regained his composure enough to answer.

“No, it was perfect.” His voice was dreamy and breathless. He looked down at you with such genuine fondness, and it made you feel so weak for him, so desperate for his touch. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long while now, darlin’. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was kinda hoping something like this would happen when I invited you to my room.”

“Well, it took you long enough,” you teased before kissing him again. You were eager to resume your exploration of his mouth, but this time he took control, letting his lips travel down and linger on your jawline, eventually descending to your neck and drawing soft whimpers from you as he ventured over the sensitive skin.

Engie sought after those little sounds you made, sucking at the delicate skin on your neck and collar. You shuddered as he gently grazed your skin with his teeth. Even though he was treating you with the utmost care, you had a feeling there would be some marks you would need to cover up tomorrow.

Although he tried to hide it, every noise you made in response to Engie’s ministrations had him growing more aroused by the minute. He had always hoped he would have had more self control in this situation. After all, the only thing that had happened so far was some kissing. Yet that seemed to be enough for him on this particular day, as you soon felt the evidence of his arousal pressing firmly against you through his clothing.

You let out a soft gasp at the sensation. Engie didn’t seem to take notice, still keeping himself busy with marking up your neck. You moved your thigh against his groin just to be sure, and the breathy groan you got in response was all the confirmation you needed.

Engie pulled back suddenly, looking panicked and apologetic, as if he had just come to his senses. “I’m sorry darlin,’ I seem to be getting a bit over excited-”

“No, it’s alright!” you said, cutting him off mid-apology. You wanted him to keep going. You didn’t want him to cease his actions for even a moment, and you made sure he knew that. “I don’t want to stop, please.”

He looked hesitant for a moment, but not unwilling. If anything, he seemed as anxious as you were, and that brought you some respite. The way you looked at him, with desire and anticipation that mirrored his own, was enough to convince him that you truly meant what you said.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Just let me take good care of you.”

Engineer set upon your neck again, this time making a clear effort to leave tell tale bruises. You didn’t mind. It was nothing makeup wouldn’t be able to cover, and you found that you quite enjoyed the gentle bites Engie would sometimes deliver after marking up a new area of your skin.

Still, you felt a bit awkward. It seemed as if Engie was doing all the work. He did tell you to let him take care of you, but surely you should be doing something? The feeling of hands on your hips brought you back to reality. That robotic hand, affixed to its owner through a brilliant feat of engineering and biology, now held a near bruising grip on your hip. You winced and Engie loosened his grasp with a soft apology.

Even though it had hurt, there was something tantalizing about the idea that the Gunslinger had only been exerting a small fraction of the power stored in those robotic joints. And now, Engie kept its pressure under control perfectly, using it to hold you gently, eventually working the metal digits beneath the hem of your shirt. You took that as your cue to take some initiative, stripping off your top before Engie had the chance to do it himself. He looked surprised for a moment before realizing that you were staring, most likely waiting for him to undress as well. He began to hastily unfasten the buttons on his shirt and you watched eagerly, your lower lip trapped between your teeth.

Not wanting to just sit there ogling, you did the most obvious thing you could think of and started kissing him again. It was rougher than before and a bit clumsy, especially as the two of you tried to multitask, undressing each other until most of your clothes were discarded on the bedroom floor. Engie paused when he reached the waistband of your underwear, as if he was waiting for permission to go further.

“Go on, Dell,” you whispered, the use of his name catching his attention immediately. “Please.”

He gave you a quick nod and carefully removed your undergarments as well, leaving you naked beneath him. You laid back, glancing to the side awkwardly as you realized you weren’t quite sure what came next. Dell, seeming to sense your uncertainty, thankfully spoke up.

“It’s alright, darlin.’ Just start by telling me what you want.” He was being genuine, clearly not making any attempt to tease you. Still, the idea of putting words to all the things you had fantasized about before this moment made your face flush red.

“I want…” you paused, taking a moment to think before continuing with a shaky sigh. “I want you to touch me, please.”

Dell grinned down at you, making you blush harder. “Oh, like this?”

You shivered as you felt his fingers slide along your slit. He held eye contact with you, taking in every reaction you made. You gave a soft whimper when he dipped into you, gently thrusting with his fingers. Once Dell was sure you were starting to relax he shifted his focus to your clit, making your body shudder and your back arch against the mattress.

He was attentive, making sure to ease up whenever you seemed to be getting overwhelmed. He held your hips still with his prosthetic, and once again you were reminded that the Gunslinger was exerting a mere fraction of its power on you. The idea of being somewhat restrained by such a powerful work of machinery was incredibly erotic.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Dell’s voice brought you back to reality, along with the fact that he was no longer moving within you.

“Fuck, yes! Keep going,” you begged, squirming at the lack of stimulation. The soft chuckle you got in response was followed by Dell doing something especially nice with his fingers, curling them within you. You couldn’t hold back a sharp moan, bucking against his fingers- or at least you would have if you weren’t still being held still.

“That’s a real nice spot isn’t it?” he asked, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned in close. You gasped as he continued to press a finger against your sweet spot, carefully working in a second digit to allow for more pressure.

Dell knew how to read your body surprisingly well, and he knew that if he simply let his thumb rub against your clit right now it would bring you to orgasm. But he couldn’t deny that he wanted to really take in the sight of you writhing like this, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you. However, being the gentleman he was, he couldn’t deny you for long, especially when you started to buck your hips. He couldn’t stand to see you so needy. He wanted to see you come for him.

As he continued to work his fingers inside of you he used his thumb to circle over your clit, making you shudder and moan into your hand. You didn’t want anyone to overhear you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to contain your sounds, especially as you finally felt the pleasure overwhelm you. You came with a shaky groan, whimpering his name as you rode out your orgasm.

Dell pulled his fingers away when you began to squirm from overstimulation. He didn’t say anything at first, completely captivated by how you looked as you relaxed in the afterglow. Your tousled hair, flushed face, and half lidded eyes created a gorgeous picture for him to take in.

“Hey, what is it?” you asked when you finally caught your breath and noticed him staring.

“Nothing, you’re just so pretty,” Dell said, chuckling softly. He knew it probably sounded a bit juvenile, but it was the truth. “Ain’t never seen anything like it.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that statement. “You must be kidding,” you said, just barely managing to contain a laugh. “I’m certain a guy like you has been with plenty of pretty girls.”

“Nope, at least, none that I really care for.” He went quiet for a moment, as if contemplating his next words carefully before continuing. His voice was softer, almost shy. “But I care about you, I really do. I want to make you feel good, make you feel loved like you should be.”

You somehow managed to blush even brighter than you already were. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to respond. You looked deep in thought for a while, and Dell began to worry.

“Was that too much?” His apologetic tone brought you back to reality. “I’m sorry. I understand if you want this to be a one time thing-”

“No! Nothing’s wrong,” you stammered, trying to find the words to express what you were feeling. “I guess I’m just not used to it, the whole ‘being cared for’ thing. It feels nice.”

You felt like you were stumbling through your sentences, fearing that you were coming off as clumsy and awkward. Nothing you were saying seemed nearly as eloquent as it had sounded in your head, but then again, such things almost never were.

“Well, you better get used to it,” Dell said with a low chuckle. “Cause by the end of the night, I wanna make you feel like the most cared for person in the world.”

Before you could respond, Dell’s lips were on yours again, and you didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss. You shivered as you tasted his lips and tongue, longing for more of him, more to feel, more to taste. Your hands began to wander, lower and lower until you were able to palm at Dell’s erection, straining against the front of his briefs, which you now realized you had neglected to remove. He pulled away with a gasp and you grinned up at him, an idea beginning to form.

“Let's switch. Let me be on top,” you said, letting go and rolling out from under him.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Dell said, his voice shaking with lust and anticipation as he laid back on the bed and watched you climb on top of him.

You kissed your way down his body, letting your hands wander. He watched, shuddering when you palmed over his chest and then downward, until the tips of your fingers finally slipped just below his waistband. You pulled his briefs down with a quick motion, freeing his erection.

Dell exhaled and gave you an inquisitive look, as if to silently ask, “what are you planning to do now?” You didn’t hesitate to show him exactly what your intentions were, leaning down and taking his cock into your mouth with a muffled moan. The sharp gasp you got in response certainly didn’t disappoint, and you quickly got to work bobbing your head and using your tongue in all the right ways.

“Oh god, darlin,’” Dell groaned, placing a hand on the back of your head. He was careful not to push you, but the tightening grip on your hair was indicative of how well you were doing. He was quite vocal, letting you know just how good you were making him feel. You would be lying if you said it didn’t boost your ego a bit. “Just like that, keep workin’ your tongue around, damn you're good at this!”

It was intoxicating to see Dell start to come undone by your efforts, the taste of precum soon becoming noticeable. You were tempted to finish him off like this, to simply let him spill down your throat and swallow every last drop. But you also wanted him inside you so badly, and the pulsing arousal between your hips wouldn’t allow you to deny yourself much longer. You pulled away, accompanied by a disappointed groan. That disappointment wouldn’t last long.

“I want to ride you.” Your voice was breathless and heavy, making the statement sound more like a desperate plea.

He let out a sharp exhale, clearly trying to contain his excitement. Dell just barely managed to keep a wide grin from spreading across his face, answering with a shaky “Alright.” He almost sounded nervous, and you couldn’t help but find it rather cute.

You positioned yourself over him, his briefs now pulled much further down his thighs. Your breath hitched as you finally sank down onto his cock, dissolving into a low moan as you took him fully inside you. You felt Dell’s grip on your thighs tighten, the strength of his mechanical hand startling you for the third time that night as you felt the metal joints squeeze your flesh. His touch traveled up to your hips as you adjusted, eventually coming to rest on your ass when you finally began to move.

“You take me so well,” Dell moaned, looking up at you with half lidded eyes. “You look so pretty bouncing on my cock like that, darlin’.”

You whimpered at his praise, some part of you knowing you shouldn’t be too loud, even as you rode him harder and faster. Your lower lip was caught firmly between your teeth as you tried to muffle yourself. Even so, some louder moans and gasps managed to escape whenever you hit a particularly good spot. Dell found it adorable whenever you would clasp your hand over your mouth, only to begin biting your lip once again as you needed both hands to keep your balance.

Meanwhile, he was just barely restraining himself from flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress. The sight above him was gorgeous- your body squirming atop his as he held your curves in his hands. However, it only made him more curious to know what it would be like to have you below him, writhing and grasping at the bedsheets and he ravished you. Even with how much he wanted that, he resisted. After all, it was becoming quite clear from your failing efforts to keep quiet and the way you were beginning to grind against him that you were getting close. Dell didn’t want to throw you off your rhythm, especially when he was beginning to feel himself lose control as well.

“You’re gonna come real soon, aren’t you?” he asked, stroking your body up and down with the utmost care, taking note of every sensitive area he could use to enhance your pleasure. “Go on sweetheart, say it.”

You cried out, any attempt at keeping your voice down now completely abandoned. Even if you were able to control yourself, the creaking of the bed frame would still be a dead giveaway to what was going on behind closed doors. But you didn’t care anymore, it all felt too good.

“Fuck, Dell! I’m so close,” you cried as you started grinding against him, the stimulation to your clit finally pushing you over the edge.

Dell bucked upward, lost in the sensation of your body trembling around him in the throes of your pleasure. You would have lost your balance if it weren’t for the firm grip he held on your waist keeping you steady. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold back any longer, shuddering as he reached his peak. You were pulled down on top of him, pressed against his body as the two of you came down from the high. Soon the only noise you could hear was the two of you breathing heavily, the rise and fall of Dell’s chest beneath you lulling you into a drowsy state.

You didn’t disturb the peace for several minutes, especially when the ache began to settle in your thighs and the idea of moving became far less appealing. As it turned out, riding on top took a hefty physical toll after a while. You must have been enjoying yourself too much to acknowledge it while actually doing it. The irony that you had now traded a stiff and aching back for sore legs was not lost on you, but you honestly couldn’t care less. That was an issue for later.

“You alright, darlin’?” Dell’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I’m more than alright,” you said, a giddy laugh escaping you. “That was amazing.”

He smiled fondly at you, shifting slightly so that you were side by side and pulling you close. You relaxed into the embrace, eager for the comfort his touch brought you. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, I like making you feel good,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and making you shiver. “And I’m guessing the days of ‘taking turns’ in the bed are over?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, although it was muffled due to your face being buried against Dell’s chest. You would have thought the answer to that would be obvious, but apparently not. You were able to get over your laughter long enough to mumble a faint “Of course” before letting yourself drift off, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as the two of you both gave in to the allure of sleep.

#tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #merc x reader #minors dni #smut #tf2 smut #team fortress 2 #engineer x reader #engie x reader #tf2 engie #tf2 engineer #tf2 engie x reader #engie tf2 #engineer tf2 #engineer team fortress 2 #dell conagher #tf2 x you #cross posted on ao3

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

Note

Heyyyy!!!!

Can I have a Cody finds out/being told that f!reader is pregnant? To make things more complicated lol f!reader is a jedi

Idk where this came from tho… if you don’t have the time or inspiration it’s fine, I love u 🤍

And A Baby Makes Three...

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, and now you have to tell Cody.

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Word Count: 996

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: hihi! Thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

You frown at yourself in the mirror and pull your robe tight across your stomach. It’s not obvious yet, at least, and you suppose, with a little clever misdirection with the force, people might not notice the baby bump at all.

At least, you hope so.

You’ve been the Jedi General of the 212 for over a year and a half now. And while no one had been happy when the order was given, in hindsight you have to admit that it made sense.

After all, Obi-Wan was a negotiator. He was at his most effective using his words to convince both parties to come to an agreement. You, however, had spent the majority of your jedi career careening from one civil war to the next.

You know military strategy like you know the back of your hand.

And, with the sudden death of Palpatine, and the startling knowledge that he had been pulling the strings on both sides of the war…well, having the skilled Negotiator sitting in meetings day in and day out was far more important than having him on a warship.

Of course, he doesn’t seem to be doing the greatest job at bringing about an end to the war, since it’s still going on.

You release the front of your robes with a sigh.

Honestly, what is the point of even having that implant if it’s not going to work like it’s supposed to. You fold your arms over your chest, and tilt your head back as you try to gather your thoughts.

You need to tell Cody, obviously. Mostly because the baby is his, and partly because the fact that you’re going to be pregnant is going to have to change the way the battalion approaches any upcoming battles.

You release a sigh and rub the back of your neck, trying to ease the tension before it turns into a headache. It’s not going to work, the only person who seems to have the ability to massage away your tension headaches is Cody, and he’s busy.

You hear the familiar sound of your door code being keyed in, and you turn towards the door, or maybe not. The door slides open, silently, and Cody steps into the room, and allows the door to slide shut behind him.

Everyone on the ship knows about your relationship with him, but it’s better to not show it off.

Tension drains out of his body as he sets his helmet on the table next to the door, and you smile sympathetically, “Rough day?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” He glances at you, and then takes a moment to remove the top part of his armor, before he crosses the room to slide his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, “We got word from Fox, there’s been no truce agreement yet.” He mumbles.

“So another month of war,” You say with a sigh.

“So another month of war.” Cody agrees, pulling back to press his forehead against yours, “They’re thinking of sending us back to Umbara.”

“Until we get actual orders, let’s just hope that that’s a rumor,” You reply softly as you reach up to soothingly card your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” His eyes close as he relaxes into your touch, “How are you feeling? You woke up pretty sick this morning.”

You smile wryly, though it goes unnoticed for the moment.

“Told you that you shouldn’t have eaten Boil’s experiment. You’re lucky a small bout of nausea is all you got,” Cody continues.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You defend.

“Cyare, it was moving.”

“That…is true.” You admit, grimacing as you remember Boil’s meal, “But he was so excited to cook-”

“You don’t have to keep humoring my brothers, cyare. We already like you.” Cody mumbles.

“I genuinely like your brothers, Cody. I like seeing them happy.” You say lightly, “But, as it happens, I wasn’t sick because of last night's dinner.”

His eyes snap open and he scans your face, “You weren’t?”

“No. I wasn’t.” You trail your hand across his cheek, “And I’m afraid I’m going to be sick for a bit.”

His brow furrows, “Do we need to go to the Medbay?”

You huff out a breath, “That probably won’t hurt, but I need to talk to you first.”

“Okay?”

There are a million different ways you can say this, but you think that, in this situation, the hard facts are the easiest, “My implant failed. I’m pregnant.”

Cody blinks at you, his jaw slightly slack.

“You-...really?”

“Really.” You confirm, “The force doesn’t lie.”

He blinks at you again, and his gaze drifts to your stomach, “A baby,” Cody sounds stunned and a bright grin crosses his face, “That’s…that’s wonderful! I’m going to be a dad!” And then the smile fades, “Oh…shit. This is going to change how we handle missions, isn’t it?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. I’m going to get fat. Which means no more vents.”

“It means you’ll have to start staying back at the command tent.”

You purse your lips, “I do not like that.”

“You don’t have to like it. But you do have to accept it.” Cody replies, and then he kisses you, a series of quick, loving kisses, and when he pulls away he sets his hands on your shoulders, “Okay! We’re going to Helix.”

“Can’t we go later?” You whine, even as you allow him to direct you towards the door.

“Nope.” Cody keys open the door and propels you into the hall, “Because, cyare, Helix is going to have to learn a whole new branch of medicine to help keep you healthy. Two, even, because he’s not a pediatrician either.”

“...now I feel kind of guilty.”

“He’ll get over it. Maybe.” Cody says easily, “Or, if he’s angry, it’ll be at me and not you.”

You eye him suspiciously, and Cody’s smile is a bit too innocent for you to believe it, “You’re fragile, cyare.”

Your jaw drops, “I am not!”

#star wars #tcw #commander cody x reader #cody x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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royal-ruin · 1 month

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f1 fanfic recs charles/carlos (charlos) part 4

other f1 fic rec lists here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise

in honor of carlos' win in the ausgp and his appendix removal (and his last year at ferrari, ignore me sobbing in the background), here are some of my fav fics of them.

if all of them are starred that just means they're all amazing.

i'll make you laugh by venerat (~7k)

[“You are cute,” says Carlos, waving his marker in emphasis. “Obviously. I am always saying this.”

“I am not cute.” Charles blinks at him. “When are you saying I am cute?”]

literally so adorable.

*what we felt by venerat (~14k)

[Imprinted, Charles should say, shocked. I hope he is alright. He should say that.

“My god,” he says instead. “On who?”]

so creative and amazing. def check out this author for more of other pairings, i know they have a bunch of hot smutty one-shots if you're into that.

*sweet tea in the summer by bloodmoonforme (~10k)

[Sometimes, when they first arrive at the circuit for a weekend, Charles will look decidedly paler, a little drawn. Then, he'll show up for FP1 on Friday seemingly much better all of the sudden, eyes unnaturally bright and cheeks red - that's how to tell how long it has been since he last drank.

Not that Carlos notices. Or keeps track of it, for that matter.

Except he does.]

Or the one where Charles is a vampire and Carlos struggles.

i don't remember this unfortunately, but i do remember loving it.

*the actor says he hates himself by bloodmoonforme (~5k)

[“You okay, mate?” Carlos asks, pitching his voice a bit louder in order to be heard over the music.

Charles doesn’t answer. Slowly, Carlos realizes that the way Charles is staring is one that he recognizes. It’s the same way he looks while he’s out racing, the same one he wears in the simulator. It’s a look of total focus. There’s something Charles wants and means to have.]

tags say that there's cheating so if you don't like that, don't read.

*dice che ti ama (ma lo sai che mente) by choripan (~3k)

[But Charles smiled, dimples out and about, back against the wall of Carlos’ driver’s room. Like he knew he wasn’t in danger.

Like he hadn’t entered a lions’ den looking like a three course meal.

(Like he knew Carlos was all bark and no bite, and toying with the metaphorical rubber band —stretch, stretch, stretching—wouldn’t ever make it snap into his straight nose.)]

kinda like a carlos-focused relationship study. it lowkey altered my brain chemistry for some reason

punctuated all wrong by Cloudcollector (~8k)

Prompt: "I don’t know if someone else agrees with me but I’m a sucker for the whole person A falls in love with person B but they think they don’t deserve person B’s love trope and I’d love to see how it would play out with charlos (not saying who’s person A and who person B, even though that should be pretty obvious)"

*the trials of 2022 by chiliconcarlos (~34k)

A partial summary of the 2022 season, as told by Charles or Carlos, following each race.

Friday is Just the Beginning by nottonyharrison (~3k)

On a Thursday in December, Caco had come to him with a proposal. A PDF attached to an email, emblazoned with the garish red Netflix logo, and consisting of a three paragraph, succinct concept that involved winter training, the mountains, and Carlos timing his schedule to overlap with Charles’ for a week.

On a Friday in January, he’s sitting in a private sauna long after the cameras have been packed away for the night, with Charles right next to him.

this is basically plot w porn, with a lot of carlos inner monologue which i love so enjoy!

Don't Do This To Me by pastrnaks_sainz (~2k)

[Carlos hands shake as he stares at his phone screen. The email from Caco is displayed and the brightness is turned all the way up. Like he’s being taunted. The big bold letters in the subject line might as well be saying ‘NOBODY WANTS YOU’ instead of ‘New Opportunities Ahead’.]

fair warning, one of the tags is hurt no comfort.

Loose Lips Sink Ships by kxleida (~2k)

Carlos finds out he's leaving Ferrari. Charles finds him in his hotel room, beer bottles scattered all across. They both know it's not fair.

A bit of hurt/comfort surrounding Charles, Carlos, and the Ferrari announcement for the F1 2024 silly season.

this isn't everything you are by shadil (~2k)

The news hit him again where he least expects it.

a prayer for which no words exist by transbrucewayne (~3k)

Charles has to assume Carlos knows by now; they should’ve told him. He doesn’t know how long they took to tell Sebastian, but it had been almost inevitable for him. He walked into the 2020 season with an air of resignation. With Carlos…everyone thought he was going to get another year, at least. Charles thought he was going to get another year. Then, Carlos would move to Audi, to the surprise of approximately no one, and the two of them would part, and Charles would spend the rest of his career smiling at him across the room, fist bumping him in press conferences, and never touching him more than the others deemed appropriate.

i know better (but you're still around) by shadil (~2k)

Sometimes, Carlos dreams about María.

He was his (but also he was not) by f1amboyant (~2k)

[Charles crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you leaving?” he asked, no bullshit, staring straight at Carlos, peering into his soul.]

Shadowhunters AU

and the world was gone by Bluejay141519 (~12k)

It’s not entirely unfounded, having something like this happen. Charles knows of various stories of the past, where different drivers’ energies don’t mix well and it causes chaos. He’s even heard of magic being used to sabotage in F1.

Charles always thought these were just stories, until he got his seat.

tbh it's not completely relationship focused, but it's still amazing.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic rec #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #charles x carlos #carlos x charles #cl16 #cs55 #fic rec list

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romanarose · 7 months

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Washed In Black: Chapter 1

Darkish!William Tell x fem!Reader

Masterlist : Join my taglist! : playlist

Summary: A young cocktail waitress at a casino takes interest in William but he rebuffs her advances. Still, he can't get her out of his head. When he follows her home, he stopped an attempted attack and brings her back to his hotel. Wanting company Will invites her on the road with him, just for the summer before her final year of college... It's just a summer fling, right?

Content and Warnings: No happy ending, oops. Darkish!Will, but not really dark to reader. big ole age gap, reader is 21, Will is early 40's. Attempted rape, reader defends herself but William finishes the job. Will briefly stalks her but there was no nefarious intent. Possessive Will, protective Will, hints too Will having OCD (my personal headcanon), PTSD from both Will and reader, reader has a shitty homelife but not abusive like I usually write. Canon typical violence. Alcohol and smoking from everyone involved. More will likely be added as we go but I'll add them in chapters under "additional warnings"

Immersability: References to reader having hair. She works at a casino as a cocktail waitress, takes place in the US and her and her parents live in the US currently. Reader generally dresses "sexy" in casinos, I know not everyone does for different reasons So I figured I should note that.

Authors Note: This fic has been in my head since last November when I saw this movie. It's my comfort movie and IDC how weird that sounds lol. I've gone back and forth on whether this needs to be a one shot or series, but I think miniseries just makes sense. I'm thinking 3 chapters.

Comment if you'd like to be tagged going forward!

3.5 Words

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Will wasn’t stalking you, really, he wasn’t.

He just wanted to make sure you got home safe. You’d caught his eye all week, bringing him drinks at the casino he was at for the time being, pretty, flattering dresses. He liked that you wore flats instead of heels. You looked more comfortable. He liked that you had a soft smile on your face, and he liked that you were clearly eyeing him. He’s only human, after all. Did he feel a bit of guilt for checking out someone so much younger than him? Yes, of course he did, but it was just looking… right?

You threw that out the window when you sat down next to him and slid him a drink. When Will gives you a quizzical look, you clarify. “Ton Collins. That’s what you drink, isn’t it?”

It was. You’d been paying attention. “Yeah, it is. But I didn’t order one.”

“Don’t worry, this ones on me.” You gesture to where your ballet flats had been traded for Converse. “I’m off the clock”

Will takes a sip. “Still doesn’t explain why you gave me a drink.”

You roll your eyes, but smile still. “Men aren’t the only ones who can buy drinks.”

A little bit of bite to you, he notes before condeeding. “Fair enough.” William takes his new class and holds it up, smiling when you clink it to his.

Fidgeting in your seat, you look around at the bright lights and bustle of the casino as you try to stoke a conversation. “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Will can sense your nervousness from two seats down, trying to keep his eyes from the tight red dress wrapped around your body. He tried to stay polite, you were just a kid after all. “William Tell, and your-” His sentence was interrupted by your laughter, bright and jovial and although he didn’t know what was funny, it made him happy to hear. “What’s so funny”

“Nothing!” You shake your head, trying to move on, as you cover the smile on your red lips. Same shade as your dress. When you see he doesn’t buy it, you smile harder and elaborate. “It’s just, I expected you to give me a fake name, but I didn’t expect it to be so…”

“To be soooo” He urges you on.

“So obvious!” A fresh bout of laughter, and while he was aware you were making fun of him, he couldn’t help smiling gently.

“That is my name.” He lied.

“Yeah, and mine’s maid Marian.”

“You’re thinking of Robin Hood.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”

“Whatever.” You tell him your name, and he reaches out to shake your hand. The firm but gentle shake makes your heart skip a beat. He was handsome, a head of straight, fully grey hair, and although you were certain he wouldn’t take kindly to you calling him a DILF, that’s what was going through your head. What appealed the most, however, was his manners. Many a man at this casino had attempted to woo you, to buy you, to assault you. Men were disgusting. With this man, however, although you could tell he was checking you out, it wasn’t leering. You didn’t feel like he was mentally undressing you. He simply said please and thank you and kept to himself and god, it made you want him. You didn’t sleep with the men here as a personal rule… but maybe he could be an acception.

“You can call me Bill, since you don’t like my name.”

“I’m not doing that either.”

She’s a bit of a brat, he notes. “Why not?”

“Too King of the Hill.”

A slight chuckle escaped him. She is trouble.

“Can I call you Will?”

“Whatever makes you happy.” You wouldn't be calling him anything. Will would talk to you while he finished the drink, he didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t going to indulge you. You weren’t the first young cocktail waitress that had made a move on him, and plenty of girls barely old enough to drink spent their time hooking at casinos, but William wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t have anonymous sex, he didn’t really have sex, and he certainly wasn’t entertaining girls young enough to be his daughter… But Will was fighting for his life. You’d scooted over to the chair next to him, had been very clearly leaning in ways to show him your tits, smiling at him with that youthful grin… No, he couldn’t indulge you.

When you got the hint that he wasn’t about to invite you to his room (he wasn’t staying at the casino anyway), you made a graceful exit, telling him to have a nice night and good luck.

But he couldn’t shake the thought of you.

It was for your safety.

He was just going to make sure you made it out of the crowds okay.

When he saw you were walking home, he was just going to make sure you got home okay. It was dangerous at 2 am for a young girl.

William repeatedly validated his action in his head as he watched you. You were just not being safe. Walking alone, headphones in your ear… something loud and aggressive he assumed by the way you banged your head, did air guitar and drum solo’s… you weren’t paying attention at all. All this was validated on it’s own, however, when William realizes he’s not the only one following you.

The man appears almost out of nowhere not far from the casino and grabs you, pulling you into a dark alleyway before he can jump in. As William runs to the scene, he’s surprised to find you were not quite as helpless as he thought, watching you take a stabber keychain and thrusting it into his side.

“Holy shit” William mutters as he watches the man bleed, but you turn to him, the stabber pointed at his chest.

“WATCH IT!” You yell, but you’re clearly posturing. Your whole body is shaking.

“Relax” William put his hands up, beginning to build his lie. “I saw him following you, I’m not here to hurt you.”

The man on the ground groans loudly in pain, and your shaking becomes uncontrollable. You drop the stabber and rush into his arms. Jesus, you’re naive. So trusting. Another moan and William looks at the man. He was a rapist. Well, attempted one with you, but men like that dont just rape once.

“Go home.” He tells you. “I’ll take care of this.”

You shout a no. “You can’t leave me alone! We’ll call the police!”

Naive indeed. William takes you a few steps away, holding you by the shoulders. “The police won’t do anything but arrest you for stabbing him.”

Confused, you try to argue. “But it’s self defense, he tried to-”

“Your word against his. Women get arrested for defending themself from rape all the time, it’s hard to prove attempted rape.”

The tears never stopped from your pretty eyes. “Then can’t we just… leave him?”

Sweet young thing… William shook his head. “I’m not leaving a rapist alive.”

The man starts begging for his life, alternating between pleas to you, and then when that doesn’t work, telling William that you were asking for it. That didn't help his case. William carefully guides you, taking you out of the alley and away from the bleeding man. “Stay here” He grabs your dropped airpods and tells you to turn up the music.

And you do.

Linkin Park, as loud as it can go, still doesn’t drown out all the sounds that came from the alley.

When William came back in sight, he was covered in blood. He thought you should be horrified… but the way you looked at him was like his night in shining amour. “C’mon. I’ll drive you home.”

“No!” You surpsise him with your answer.

“Or we can walk, that’s-”

“I don’t wanna go home!” When he looked confused, you elaborate. “It’s lonely there, my parent… they act like I don’t exist, and I’m scared, Will. I’m fucking scared and they are no help. Please, please can’t I go with you?”

Bad idea. “No, I don’t think that’s-”

“Please?”

William heard sirens not far away. The dead man’s screams must’ve alerted someone… fuck, they needed to leave. “Fuck, come on.” William wrapped an arm around her, taking her through the alley. “Don’t look at him.” He kept a hand at her head, keeping her eyes forward. Through the backways and slipping into darkness, William took her to where his car was parked and ripped out of the parking lot.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Are you going to tell me where you live?” He asks but you stay silent. He sighs. “Honey how old are you?”

You hesitate. “26”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Why do you care?”

“I want to make make sure I won’t get arrested for kidnapping a minor!”

“I work at a casino!”

Okay. Fair point. “Just checking, because you said you lived with your parents.”

“It’s a shit economy.”

“Hey, I’m not judging you, I was in prison by 26.” That was enough to make you turn to him. He glanced over to you. “Yeah, you still wanna stay with an ex con?”

“What were you in prison for” Nosy little girl.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Was it it rape?”

“No”

“Then I don’t really care.”

“You should”

“But I don’t.”

“Do you really want to stay with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. You can stay with me. For one night, I’m heading out tomorrow.”

“Fine.” A short pause. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine.”

“For all of it.”

“It’s fine.”

When you arrived at the motel and Will opened the door, you were regretting your choice. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Of course his room setup was going to be off putting. He didn’t have an explanation for himself, so he never bothered on the rare occasion someone saw it.

“You’re going to kill me.”

Well that was not what he was expecting. William turned to you. “What?” he reiterated with more vigor.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before groaning. “God dammit I’m so fucking stupid. My dad was right, I was gonna get myself killed some day!”

He called your name. “What are you talking about? I’m not gonna kill you.”

Gesturing vaguely towards the room, all the furniture, paintings, chairs all wrapped up. “Covering the fucking room? Clearly you’re planning to slit my throat and throw away the evidence.”

William pushed past you. “If I slit your throat, the blood would go everywhere, walls, ceiling, all of it. Covering the bedside table won’t do shit.”

“Oh. That’s comforting, I guess.”

“Are you coming in or not?”

Well, what option did you have? You close the door and take in the room. It was so… plain.

“Why do you cover everything?”

William simply shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He pulls out some clothes, handing you a t shirt and pants and some for himself. “I’m going to shower since I’m covered in blood.” He states plainly, seemingly unphased. “You can shower after, wear these.”

“Thank you.”

After everything was settled, you sat on the bed watching tv while William wrote in a book. “You can lay on the bed, you know. It’s late.”

He didn’t look up. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Oh come on, I’m not taking your damn bed.”

“I don’t sleep much anyway.”

“Ohhhhh mysterious.”

That was enough to make Will turn around, a light smile creeping on his features. “You haven't told me much about yourself either.” He deflected. “What”s a niice girl like you doing in a trashy casino?”

Swinging your legs over the bed, you force yourself up and over to him. “Pays for tuition.”

When you make your way over, Will stands up, looking down at you as his hair flopped in his face. The action closed a lotof distance, bringing him close to you. The left over energy from what happened tonight was buzzing in both of you, unable to sleep despite the late hours of the morning. “Oh yeah? You’re in school?”

“Mhm. Geology at Notre Dame”

“Realy?” He was impressed.

“Yup, senior year.”

“Hm. Pretty and smart.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. William was so worked up, the brutal murder of the man who attempted to rape her transfering into a sexual energy that was getting hard to control.

He expected you to get uncomfortable, but you lit up at his words. “You think I’m pretty?”

It was all slipping out now. “You know damn well that you are. All dressed up in those tight, skimpy dresses, showing yourself off, flirting with me all week…” He took a step forward, but you didn’t move back, instead leaning in ever so slightly.

“And you weren’t flirting back?”

William huffed a short laugh. “I was trying not to. You make it awfully hard.”

It was you who closed the gap, feeling his plush lips against yours. His kiss was immediately hungry, starving, William’s mouth opening wide to take all of you in, to taste the expanse of you. “Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this.” But he made no effort to stop, walking you backwards until you topple on the bed.

You were winey and desperate, rutting your hips up into him as he pawed at you. “Need you to fuck me.” You beg him.

“Relax.” Will purrs in your ear, slowly grinding into your spread legs. He was going to take his time with you, fuck you right… but god he was barely holding on himself, so worked up that he needed to release himself somehow. He continued kissing you, licking into your mouth and stifling your pretty little sounds because he just can’t keep his mouth off of you when he feels it. You were shaking.

“Hey,” William pulls back, cupping your face. “Hey, you alright?”

When you look up at him, wide-eyed, Will is stuck by how young you look. “Y-yeah I’m fine I just…” You chuckle nervously. “Not a whole lot of experience in this department.”

Will gives you another few inches of space. “Are you a virgin?”

“No,” You try to assure him, but his intense gaze boring into you did not help the nerves. “Just… not much better.”

Sighing, he drops his forehead to yours. “How old are you?”

“26-”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m 21.”

Another sigh, Will rolled off, but you try to fix it, grabbing at him. “No! Will, I’m sorry, I want you-”

His eyes were pinched closed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… lets just go to sleep.”

Embarrassed and sexually frustrated, you begin to shuffle under the blankets with Will. “Can you… can you hold me?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

William wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his body. You could feel his hardness, but his closeness comforted you. Will made you feel safe.

That morning, you were woken up to the sound of Will packing and you made it a point to groan dramatically. “UUUGGHHHH Why the hell are you up so early?”

“I told you, I don’t sleep much” He was folding up his linens, slowly making the room look normal.

“Ooooo edgy”

“Check out at 10 anyway.”

You grumble, rubbing your face into the pillow. “Do you have to go? Can’t you stay another day?”

Will stopped his movements, pausing before he pulled up a now-uncovered chair to where you lay. With his legs manspreading, he placed his elbows on his knees, folded his hands and leaned towards you. “What’s keeping you here? You clearly don’t care for your parents, your job you can get anywhere, pretty girl like you. What’s keeping you here?”

You’re taken aback by his question, but answer honestly. Early morning grogginess doesn’t leave much room for deception. “Just making enough money to pay for next years school.”

“How much do you think you’ll make this summer.”

You give him an estimate.

He nods. “Leave with me.”

Blink. “Huh?”

“Travel with me. I’ll pay you what you would make at the end and bring you back to school at the start of the summer. I’ll pay for your food, clothes, anything you need.”

You can’t help but huff at that. “What what money? Sorry, but this isn’t exactly a luxury room.”

Little shit. He grabs one of his bags, opens it, revealing large stacks of hundred dollar bills. “I count cards. I keep to modest means but… there’s no reason I can’t win more.”

“Hooooolyyyyy shit.” He was loaded. Absolutely loaded. You get off the pillow, looking back and forth between Will and the money. There’s no reason you couldn’t go. Well, it was dangerous, a strange man you didn’t know taking you across the country… but you were never one for impulse control. Still, you think of last night. “I’m not… I’m not a hooker.”

“It’s not about sex.” When you look suspicious, he presses on. “It gets lonely on the road. I just… want some company. Two and a half months, just us, like a summer vacation. You’ll have everything you need to finish school, I promise.”

His eyes were earnest, and despite the fact you heard him slaughter a man only feet away from you… you trust him.

A few hours later, you and him were on the road. You sent a text to your boss who was none to happy about quitting with no notice, and left a note for your parents when you got your essential saying you left with a friend. They didn’t care enough to question that you didn’t have any friends in your home town anymore.

Will’s car was old but clean. Comfortable. The next destination was Seattle and after hours of begging, he let you put on your own music instead of the silence.

“What the fuck is this shit.”

“It’s Green Day, I thought you would know Green Day, old man.”

He wanted to wipe that bratty smirk right off her face. “This isn’t any Green Day I know.”

“Yeah, cause you probably only know American Idiot, poser.” When Will turned to you with a cocked eyebrow, you backtrack. “Sorry.”

“That’s what I thought.”

When you and Will check into your hotel, he paid in cash. Great, no paper trail in case you’re murdered. Wonderful. Sometimes you wonder what was going through your head when you left with him, but you couldn’t find yourself regretting it. You enjoyed his company so far, even if he was cranky. It was cute. He was cute. You wanted to suck his dick.

“Here.” Will handed you a wad of cash. “There’s a strip mall down the street, get something nice for tonight.”

You smile up at him cheekily, swaying your hips a bit as you walk over to take the money. Fuck, you had a sugar daddy. “Don’t you wanna come with? Make sure you approve of what I buy, stay on budget?” You graze his hand with your fingers as you take it.

He simple began to unpack his linens. “Your budget is whats there.” There had to be at least $1000. “I gotta take care of this.”

“Ah. The weird room thing.”

“Yes, the weird room thing.”

You left him too it, taking the money and going for a shopping spree. You do, of course, pick out what you were sent for. A beautiful black sparkling dress, designer because why not, and some fancy jewelry to go with it. Shoes, however, you get from the department store. You’d do a lot of things, but wearing heels was not one of them. You couldn’t take the pain anymore.

While almost out the door, you spot a little something in a store window, something you’d always wanted but you budget wouldn’t justify it.

A few hours later, you exit the motel bathroom all dolled up. Will was sitting on the bed, phone in hand, only looking up when you exited. “Oh.” Was his first muttered response as he stood.

You blush, looking down. “That all?”

“No, shit, sorry.” he mumbles. “You look beautiful. Sorry, I’m… I’m not good with words…”

You’d noticed that. Not that he wasn’t good with words, just that he didn’t talk much. You didn’t mind, he was… peaceful.

Right before you and William left for the night out, his lady luck on his arms you stop him. “Wait wait!” You say before going to your pile of bags and pulling out a polaroid camera you had bought today.

“Ah come on. Do we have to take pictures?” He grumbled with only a half hearted attempt at resistance.

“If I’m having a summer fling and a road trip, I’m documenting it. I promise I won’t always take pictures of you.”

“Fine.”

“You’re like that grumpy eagle muppet.”

“What the fuck-”

You snapped the picture just as he turned, giggling as it developed. Despite his resistance, Will leaned over to see it: You, smiling brightly at the camera, him, looking grumpy as he frowned at you.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” Will warned, his voice low but a bit of tease was there. His hand gently guided you out the door.

The night awaits.

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

Almost a year in the making ;-;

Tagging those who've expressed interest in various mentions lol sorry if i forgot anyone! Note that things changed a lot at various points developing this in the minor details but the major plotline stayed the same

Special shout out to Melsy and Clem and Mona and Ceira for always encouraging me with this at various points.

Like dark fics? This aint darkenough for you? Come check out my dark blog

@whatthefishh @melodygatesauthor @hon3yboy @fandxmslxt69 @winniethewife @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @milkymoon2483

#william tell #will Tell #william tell x reader #william tell smut #william tell x reader smut #tw stalking #canon typical violence #the card counter #the card counter fan fiction #william tell fanfiction #the card counter smut

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growup-thatbeautiful · 1 year

Text

bullet proof… i wish i was

Tags: Kid fic, Canon Typical Violence, Ex-husband Tangerine, Ex-Assassin Reader, Getting Back Together, Soft Tangerine, Mutual Pining, Tangerine Bullet Train, Tangerine x Reader, Tangerine x You

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Blood, Violence, Heavy Cursing

Summary: You and Tangerine have been separated for a few years for the sake of your daughter, Jovie, but when trouble comes, there's only one person to turn to.

Word Count: 8k

A/n: if you want to be added to a taglist for this universe, let me know and i will happily oblige! enjoy my tangerine brainrot :))

Bullet Train Masterlist

chapter one: you have turned me into this

Your heels tap against the marble flooring as you make your way through the crowd of guilty people, the chandelier above you casting an ethereal glow over scared faces and expensive clothing. You keep your head down and hope that none of them are looking at your face too closely. The steel countertop of the bar is cool underneath the tips of your fingers when you order a drink and take a careful sip, your eyes flitting around the room for a certain face. Once you have him in your sights, it doesn't take much to convince him to come over and say hello. The way the silk of your dress contours perfectly around your figure can't hurt.

"Hi," you say, your voice floating through clouds and shaking the walls. Or is it just you who's shaking? The man doesn't answer and instead chooses to signal for the bartender, who nods and starts fixing a drink.

"The usual," the man croaks, his voice weak and failing. It makes you want to go home to the family waiting for you, into the arms of someone who loves you. There's a reason that you can't, but you don't remember it. You just know what you have to do now.

“So, angelface, are you going to tell me how you got here? I think I would remember inviting someone like you.” The man doesn’t recognize you, which is good. None of this would work if he knew who you are and what you’re here for.

“I have an invitation,” you lie, glancing around you and shifting your weight. If he’s paying as much attention to your form as he seems to be then he’s going to notice immediately how obvious you’re being.

“Strange, I didn’t take you for a liar.” He runs a greasy hand along the top of your arm and leans in closer to you, a sick smile on his face.

“I didn’t think you were smart enough to notice. Color me impressed, Sir.” You plant a hand on your hip and twirl a finger through your hair, grinning at him like you’re remotely interested in his sad eyes.

“Thanks. Look, hun. You’re way out of your zone here. This isn’t the path for a pretty girl like you.” He brings his hand up to your face, stroking a sweaty hand over your cheek. Like that’s ever calmed you down.

“Oh, sure it is.” you grab his wrist. “There are plenty of pretty girls getting up to no good. And those are only the ones that I know about and the ones you decide are good enough for a second fuck. But there’s a little more to the story this time. See, I’ve always loved my job, but it doesn’t really allow any room for what I need. I guess you could call it an occupational hazard, but I’ve been trying to change that if you would let me. I have a feeling that you’re going to listen to me.” You can feel the bones under his wrist. The way their ancient architecture creaks and groans under strain.

The beautiful snap of his wrist. Pain lit up in his eyes. Surprise written on his face. “Now. You’re never going to underestimate an angry woman or a protective mother again. I recommend you start listening to me closely and looking into my eyes instead of somewhere else.”

You wake up with a sob. Those memories have haunted you since the moment they happened, an error in judgment, an eclipse against the rest of your life. The things you did to protect the little girl sleeping soundly in the room next to you.

It’s half of a memory, not even getting to the worst part of that evening. Or the nights you spent afterward, cradling yourself against the cold spray of the shower and insistently scraping your skin against a washcloth to get the blood off.

It isn’t the violence that haunts you. God knows you’ve seen enough of that to last a lifetime. No, you don’t bat an eye at the blood that was shed that night, that’s never bothered you.

It’s what came afterward. The fighting, the leaving, the tears that you don’t usually shed. You had put your daughter, Jovie, in the backseat and taken her away from one of the two people who loved her to the end of the earth. It’s not like you had a choice, or at least that’s the easier way to think about it. For Jovie’s sake, you had to get out of that life, and you couldn’t have done that any other way.

But the way you hurt Tangerine back then still hurts you every time you think about it. It’s almost unbearable, to know that you’re the reason why he lives alone in a house that was meant to be filled with pictures of you and Jovie that now has impersonal empty white walls.

With a sigh, you throw the sweat-soaked sheets off to the side and walk into the bathroom that’s adjacent to your bedroom. Your hands shake when your turn the sink on you run your sweaty palms underneath the cool water, and you splash some onto your face. From experience, you know you probably won’t get back to sleep anytime soon tonight, so you might as well get some work done. Maybe with the extra time, you can pick up Jovie early from school one day and take her to the ice cream parlor she likes. There’s no better way to spend your time than with her anyway.

You slip some socks onto your feet and make your way across the hardwoods into your kitchen, where your laptop is waiting at the table. Instinctively, you go to the kettle sitting on the stove and start boiling some water, your mind on autopilot. Next, you grab a cup and some sugar, get some milk from the fridge, and try your hardest to calm your heartbeat. The whistling of the kettle is a soothing balm against your racing thoughts.

You don’t know how many times you’ve had the same dream, but usually, you make it further before you wake up. Maybe it’s finally starting to go away, but you doubt it. You’re honestly not sure that it’s something you’ll ever stop terrorizing yourself over.

The kettle’s whistling reaches an insistent point and you carefully pour the tea into the waiting cup. Once it’s cool enough to move, you settle into the kitchen table that’s closest to the window and open your laptop, where emails and research await.

Right when you’ve finally gotten into a good rhythm of your work, a noise from the hallway interrupts your thoughts. The hinges of your front door creak and strain, something you’ve been meaning to fix for a while, but right now you’re happy that you haven’t. Slowly, you reach for the gun that’s sitting behind the plant on the window and load it methodically, glancing over towards Jovie’s room and praying that she’s still asleep. The floorboards creak underneath the person’s feet and you steel yourself for what’s coming, whatever it is.

“Do you ever go anywhere besides your kitchen table, love? Should I be worried about your work addiction?” You see a familiar silhouette against the refrigerator light holding his hands up in the air.

Lowering the gun and putting it off to the side, you say, “Sure. Just let yourself right in. I’m sure Jovie would love to find you here in the middle of the night.”

“Jovie’s still awake?” Tangerine asks hopefully. You roll your eyes against his response, but there’s no actual malice in your actions. It’s endearing, how excited he gets to see her, even when you know he’s been on a mission for at least a week.

“No, she’s asleep, but you can go see her. If you wake her, you’re going to deal with it in the end, though, because she’s supposed to be going over to your house tomorrow anyway,” you warn. You don’t think it sends the right message, though, because he grins and raises his eyebrows at you.

“You still have to deal with her in the morning,” he grins, taking off down the hall. You know better than to try and stop him when he’s trying to go see Jovie, especially when he’s been gone.

He’s never told you, but you know that he misses her when he’s gone, but you imagine that it’s worse than how you miss her. When you’re gone, you know you’ll come back safely most of the time. Sure, what you’re doing for a living is technically illegal, but you’re not in immediate danger as frequently as he is.

So, when he comes over in the middle of the night asking to see Jovie, hardly able to stand with bloodshot eyes, you give him time with her for as long as he needs.

You remember how it used to be, when you were both working. It was hell, trying to balance everything; going on jobs and finding someone to watch Jovie, spending as much time as possible with her when you weren’t on a job, and trying to maintain some semblance of a relationship with Tangerine.

At some point, it all just collapsed in on itself. You had to get out of the job, and the only way to do that came with consequences that you’re still facing today.

You don’t think Tangerine can look at you without seeing the person that snuck away in the middle of the night with his daughter. And you can’t blame him one bit, even if he won’t say it to your face. You know if he did that to you, you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. Maybe he’s just a better liar than you or a better person. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell.

You can’t tell how long it’s been, sitting at your computer and waiting for Tangerine’s telltale footsteps, but eventually, he comes back and sits down next to you. Silently, without looking up from your laptop, you push your tea across the wooden surface towards him and he accepts it gratefully.

“You still make your tea like shit,” he complains, grimacing at the taste. “It’s like drinking fucking sugar water.”

“Then stop drinking it, Tan,” you sigh, but there’s a fondness that you can’t stop from creeping into your voice. “Just because you like being dark and broody doesn’t mean we all do. Some of us like being happy.”

“I can be perfectly fucking happy without your sugary excuse for caffeine,” Tangerine defends, leaning back into his chair. “Now do you want the information I got you, or not?”

You nod and pull up the folder you’ve been keeping information for your current job in. It’s scarily scarce, and this is one of the hardest assignments you’ve been given in a while. Gathering information on The White Death was hard enough when you could openly travel the world, and now with Jovie, it’s even harder.

Ever since you stopped going on actual jobs where you were part of the physical fight, you’ve been gathering information for the assassins like Tangerine and Lemon before jobs. It comes with perks, like the ability to work from home most of the time, but you can’t deny that you miss the excitement that you used to face almost daily.

For the next hour, Tangerine tells you everything he learned on the job and you carefully take notes. It’s a system you worked out as soon as you realized that the two of you would have to relearn how to coexist with each other for Jovie’s sake. In exchange, you give him everything you have on whatever his next job will entail, because, as scared as he is that he’s not going to come home one day, you’re terrified every time he leaves that he’s going to decide that it isn’t worth it. He’ll realize when he wakes up one morning that he could be anywhere in the world with anyone he wants, and you’re just not worth the effort.

Not that you would ever tell him that. Instead, you keep him through the flimsy excuse of work and information, hoping that, along with Jovie, it’s enough to keep him by your side.

Because you’re unexplainably selfish when it comes to him. Yes, you’re the one who left, but you can’t bear to think about him being happy with someone else.

So, for as long as he lets it continue, you’ll sit at the kitchen table for him in the middle of the night and listen to him talk, his accent lulling you to a sense of false domesticity that will shatter when he gets up to go home.

Tomorrow morning, Jovie will wake up and tell you all about how Tangerine visited her in the middle of the night, and he’ll be gone again, back to his own home where you thought you would raise Jovie with him.

But that’s something to worry about tomorrow. For now, you can sit here and take notes with an excuse to stare at Tangerine while he talks.

And what a sight he is, with his hair falling in front of his eyes, his blue-grey eyes shining in the lowlight of the moon shining through the window. His ringed fingers are drumming against the table as he talks, blood underneath his nails. Before he came in, he must have taken his suit jacket off, because he’s left in a blue pinstriped vest and a white undershirt, both speckled with blood. It outlines the broad expanse of his shoulders and the chain around his neck glints in and out of your sight.

“Do you want to spend the night?” you interrupt, shutting your laptop. Upon seeing the confused look on his face, you start rambling. “I know you probably want to get home- you’ve been gone a while- but it’s late and I’m sure Jovie would love to have you here in the morning. That way you don’t have to come get her later.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he agrees. “And I really don’t want to drive even more tonight, so I might take you up on the offer.”

“Okay,” you say, hiding a smile behind your hand. “You can shower in the guest room, I’ll get sheets on the bed.”

“Don’t go to the trouble, love. I’ll be happy with whatever.” You shake your head and get up, heading for the closet where you keep extra bedding. When you hand a pair of clean, white sheets with red polka dots, he takes them from you with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You lead him to the guest room, flipping light switches on and making sure the bathroom is adequately stocked. “I’ll be right back,” you say, heading to your room and rifling through one of your drawers until you come up with a maroon t-shirt that’s been in the back of your drawer for ages. It’s worn and faded, with holes in the collar and a white stain on the hem. You don’t know if Tangerine has even noticed that you’ve had it all this time, but you haven’t been able to convince yourself to give it back.

Back in the guest room, you hand him the t-shirt and he silently hands you his suit vest and collared shirt, which you take into the laundry room and spray with something to get the stains out. It’s a routine that you two perfected a long time ago, before things were so messed up, so it’s nice to see how some things still stay the same. The sound of the shower starting lets you know that he’ll be out in a few minutes, and a familiar sense of dread fills you. What happens now? Do you tell him goodnight and wait to deal with it in the morning or are you supposed to sit up with him and exchange polite conversation that will only hurt you in the end.

It ends up being neither. You’re sitting back at the kitchen table, pretending to look at your computer, when he shuffles down the hall, wearing boxers and the t-shirt.

“Is this mine?” he asks, gesturing at his shirt. “I’ve been fucking looking for this.” You know he hasn’t because he never liked this shirt, but your ears burn red at the accusation, however well meaning.

“It might be,” you deflect. “Do you need any food?” Tangerine moves to sit across from you at the table. His hair away from his face when he leans back and closes his eyes. He doesn’t look convinced at your defense, but he lets it slide with raised eyebrows.

“No, I stole some crisps on the way home.” You’re not surprised.

“You have a talent, Tan,” you tease lightly, shutting your computer. “You need to teach Jovie one of these days.”

“She can do better than petty thieving, have higher hopes for our girl.” Our girl rings through your mind. You doubt he even knows the impact of what he says, like he usually doesn’t.

You don’t really know what to say, so, “I’m sure she’s got your knack for finding something worthwhile to do,” is what you end up replying.

“A man can dream,” Tangerine sighs. You realize how late it is and how tired he must be, which you can see by the darkness underneath his eyes.

“As much as I would love sitting up with you, I think it might be a proper time to go to bed,” you admit softly. He looks at you with a strange look in his eye and nods slowly, matching your actions when you stand up.

“Goodnight, Tangerine.” You’re standing across from him, unable to cross the distance between the two of you, both physical and mental. It would be so easy, so instinctive, to fold yourself into his arms like you used to all those years ago. It’s alarming how deep the desire to do it runs through you, and you chalk it up to the nightmare that you and earlier.

“Goodnight, love. I’ll see you in the morning.” Those words, from him, are achingly distant to what they used to mean, but they fill the crack in your heart with a blooming flower of some unnamed emotion.

It stays with you when you crawl into bed and it has you looking forward to the morning, whatever it brings.

The sound of singing wakes you up much more gently than the nightmare did. It’s loud and boisterous and completely off-key, and you recognize it immediately, just like you would recognize anything about him.

You force yourself out of the warmth of your bed and throw on the first clothes that you find, a pair of black leggings and a deep green sweater with countless holes. A look in the mirror tells you that the bags under your eyes reflect the late hours of last night, but you don’t feel like doing anything about it right now. It can’t be worse than the other states of disarray Tangerine has seen you in before.

The bedroom door closes shut quietly behind you as you walk down the hall, and the sight that you’re met with is both concerning and heartwarming.

Standing at the stove in his now spotless suit from last night is Tangerine, his hair in its usual slick back style. Your kitchen is a mess, with flour all over the cabinets and countertops and a towel is thrown over his shoulder. He’s bent over the stove, watching a pan intently as smoke rises to the ceiling.

Jovie is sitting at the kitchen table watching, her brown curls a messy hall around her head. It’s the same as her father’s, something that he takes great pride in. She has your eyes, but hers are full of hope.

You make your way over to where Tangerine is standing and lean against the counter across from him, watching with amusement as he fiddles with your burner. “Bastard,” he mutters under his breath, trying again to light the stove. “Fucking bastard.”

“Let me help you,” you laugh, sidling up next to him and pushing the knob in before turning it. “It gets stuck sometimes, you just have to force it a tad.”

“S’that right? Well, someone’s going to have to fix that. I wouldn’t want the world deprived of your cooking,” he deadpans, a glint in his eye.

“Fuck off,” you say under your breath, glancing at Jovie to see her utterly occupied with the spoon and bowl. “I haven’t poisoned anyone yet with my cooking.”

“That was on purpose,” he defends easily. “And I don’t think they’re quite the brag you think it is, love. Jovie-“

“-come on, don’t bring the poor girl into this-“

“-how do you think your mom’s cooking is?” His grin is wide and dagger-sharp as he looks at Jovie, who’s staring wide-eyed and helpless at the wills of Tangerine’s smile.

“Mommy makes dinner all the time,” she says, looking at you.

“Thank you, baby,” you sing, smiling at her and sticking your tongue out at Tangerine. He frowns at your childish display and turns his attention to Jovie with soft eyes.

“I beg your pardon, Jovie, but why don’t you tell Mommy the truth?”

You sigh, having accepted your dare a long time ago as someone who’s talents lau outside of the kitchen. “Go ahead.”

“Sometimes your food tastes yucky,” Jovie says slowly, her head tilted to the side as she waits for your reaction.

“Well, I’m trying my best,” you defend, but you don’t take any of it personally. You’re happy, at least, that Jovie’s being honest with you, which is more than a lot of parents can say. This day was bound to come.

“I’m sure you are,” grins Tangerine, giving Jovie a cheesy thumbs up before returning to his cooking. “That’s why I’m going to handle breakfast this morning.”

And he does, without complaint, grinning and cracking jokes the whole time. It feels like he belongs here, sandwiched in your tiny kitchen with Jovie sitting at the table and laughing.

He brings two plates full of various breakfast items and a bowl for Jovie with grilled tomatoes, her favorite. You eat in comfortable silence, filled occasionally by Jovie’s chatter.

“Can I have that?” Tangerine asks, looking hopefully at you. He’s pointing towards your tomato, which you really had planned on eating, but you give in to his pleading eyes.

“So now you’re a gentleman?” you tease, shoveling your food onto his plate.

“Love, I’m always a gentleman.” He takes your food happily and shares with Jovie, talking with her about school and her friends while bringing you into the conversation.

It’s so easy to forget, in moments like these, why you ever left, but things can come crashing down when Tangerine has to leave.

“We should be off,” he admits softly. “I wouldn’t want to take up more of your time.”

“Okay,” you agree, but your smile feels wrong and tight. You want so badly to tell him that you’d rather be here than anywhere else as long as he’s here. “Jovie, baby, are you ready to go to Daddy’s house?”

“I need Murphy to come with me,” Jovie says, and you smile at her before going to her room to grab her favorite stuffed bear. It’s something that Tangerine got her on one of his trips, this time to New York. The stuffed bear is wearing a red guard’s uniform and a top hat, affectionately missing one shoe with faded colors. It’s laying on her bed, shoved beneath her pillows and blankets, and you double check the rest of her room to make sure that there’s nothing else she’ll need.

“Here’s Murphy.” You hand her the bear and Jovie accepts it happily with a hug and a pat on the head. She gives you a hug and a messy kiss on the cheek before going over to stand with Tangerine.

“Jovie-love,” Tangerine says, calling your daughter by his favorite endearment, “Say another goodbye to your mom, you’ll see her again in a few days.” Jovie nods obediently and looks at you again.

“Bye-bye, Mommy.”

“Bye, Jovie. I’ll see you soon, Tan.” Tangerine nods his goodbye to you before taking Jovie’s hand in his own and leading her down the hall and out the front door. You see them out the window as Tangerine buckles Jovie’s seatbelt and taps her on the nose with a soft smile.

You watch his car drive away until you can’t see it anymore.

Days without Jovie go by uneventfully, with not much distinction between the hours, and the next few are no exception.

But now, you have more than Jovie to look forward to. You have Tangerine too, however short your interaction may be. Because he’s always been a bright spot for you, even when you don’t get to bask in his sunlight every day. You’ll take whatever you can get, however small, because anything is more than you deserve.

Especially because you’re the one who ruined all of it in the first place.

After a long day of interviews and field work, you just want to go home. Jovie’s with her babysitter Mary because Tangerine had to take care of something with Lemon, which is an unfortunately common occurrence.

The drive home is painful and irritating, and it seems like everything is trying to push you over the edge. You have to keep reminding yourself that Jovie is waiting for you at home; sweet, loving Jovie whose face lights up when she sees you walk into a room. She’s back at your flat now, from when Tangerine dropped her off earlier today, which is good, because you don’t know what you would do if she wasn’t there. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to have much of a conversation with him because everything had been rushed.

Finally, finally you make it to your flat, where you can’t seem to find a parking spot quick enough to satisfy your desire to be finished with today.

When you walk through the door, you’re met with a silence that puts you on edge. There’s no blaring kids television program or the sound of Jovie playing with her toys, or even the soft lull of Mary reading her to sleep.

“Jovie? Baby?” You walk faster through the apartment, paranoia taking over. When you turn the corner, a gasp lodges itself in your throat and your hand comes up to cover your mouth.

It’s a cinematic scene. Your big-eyed Jovie, standing, covered in blood. The homey glow of the broken lamps cast shadows across the mangled corpse in front of her. Jovie isn’t moving, simply standing there, red spreading across her truck pajama pants.

“Jovie, honey, come here.”

“You always say not to get my pajamas messy.”

“I know, love, but this is more important right now. It’s okay, I understand.” You hold out your arms, knees on the ground, soaking in the pool of blood. “Please, baby, just walk towards me and everything will be okay.” She dutifully takes a step, walking straight into the mass of blood.

“Shit, Jovie, stay there, I’m coming to get you.” The blood is warm against your feet as you pass through it. She looks at you with her big eyes and you feel the tears threatening to overflow. You don’t have time for this now; you can always cry about it later in the shower.

“You said a bad word. Daddy says bad words sometimes when he thinks I’m not there.” Despite wariness, Jovie climbs into the waiting arms, holding on. She leaves ripples in the growing mass of blood when she walks.

“Yeah, that sounds just like him. How about we go into the kitchen-“

“For juice pops?” interrupts Jovie, oblivious to the violence around her. You wish that you feel surprised at the continued glimpses of the fight. A broken plate on the floor, a red smear on the white cabinets, and a drawer pulled out of the island.

“For juice pops,” you confirm, opening the freezer for an, ironically, red popsicle. “What color do you want?”

“Blue,” she says decidedly. You grab one of the first ones you see and unwrap it with your teeth, handing it to her. She takes it happily and you push her up higher onto your hip.

“How about we call daddy? I think he can help us.” The thing is, you know how to deal with this on your own. You’ve talked about it with Tan more times than you can count, but this is so much harder than planning for it. “Can you go grab your backpack from the closet? Mommy’s going to go get her own bag and we’ll call him from the car.”

She mumbles okay as you put her down and she heads dutifully down the hall to her room. You would rather be close to her, but time is essential at the moment. The only thing running through your mind is getting Jovie somewhere safe, no matter how you do it.

You rush down the hall and grab the gray duffel bag from the corner of your closet. Quickly, you go through the contents and make sure that you have everything you might need. Yours and Jovie’s passports, some first aid materials, a few extra weapons, and a change of clothes are the main items that you have to make sure are in the bag.

Once you’ve double-checked everything, you throw the duffel onto the bed and grab the extra bullets that you keep in your top drawer, shoving them into your back pocket along with the small gun that you keep in the bathroom.

“Jovie, honey, are you ready to go?” you call, waiting for a reply. She yells a muffled response back at you, which you take as an okay. You don’t really have enough time to contemplate it anyway.

As fast as you can, you scoop up Jovie’s bag from her arms and grab one of her hands in yours. She’s clutching Murphy close to her chest, the bear squished tightly against her. The hallway seems to be clear when you check it for any threats, and, thankfully, Jovie stays silent until she’s safely buckled into her seat. Part of you hopes that she can tell how serious the situation is, how dire it is that you make it to somewhere safer.

The slam of the car door rings in your ears as you pull out of the carpark, as does the heavy sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Mommy? Is Mary dead?” asks Jovie, staring at you from the backseat with eyes just like yours. You grip the steering wheel tighter between your fingers and let out a slow exhale.

“Yeah, baby. Mary’s dead.” You don’t know what else to say, so you let silence fill the car. After you’re far enough away, you pull the car to the side of the road and turn the lights off. To anyone passing by, they won’t see you unless they’re looking.

“What are we doing here?” Jovie’s voice is high-pitched and scared, and you brace yourself for the feeling of tears pricking your eyes. When Jovie cries, usually you’re able to be the calm one, but you don’t know if you can be that person right now.

“We’re just resting for a minute.” The words are hard to get out and you lean forward against the steering wheel, taking a breath with your head in your hands.

“Because it’s dark out?” Any other time, you would happily answer all of Jovie’s questions and more, but you need to think right now. But you also don’t think that it’s a good idea to shift Jovie’s mind to anything that could lead to her thinking more about what happened.

“Jovie, honey, do you think you can let me call Daddy? We need to make sure that it’s okay for us to go over to his house.” Jovie nods and looks out the window quietly, tracing the passing houses with her finger.

You pull up your phone and select Tangerine’s name from the top of your contacts, but you don’t connect it to the car speaker. Jovie’s been through enough. While you wait, you pull back onto the road and start heading in the direction of Tangerine’s house.

It feels like the dial tone rings forever while you wait for him to answer. It goes to voicemail and you bang your hand against the steering wheel, biting back a curse and some tears. The beep for a voicemail sounds and you start talking before you can consider anything else. “Tan, we’re heading to your flat now. There’s-there’s a problem. I have Jovie with me now, just- please be home. Please fucking be home, I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Tangerine, and I don’t know how Jovie’s going to cope with this. I came home and there was blood on the floor, and Mary was on the floor. I don’t think we can go back there for a while, maybe ever. I have some things with me, and I have my gun, but I- I don’t think it’s safe still. Just, please answer me whenever you get this. Please, Tan.” You end the call and throw your phone to the side, running a hand through your hair.

When you look back at Jovie through the rear view mirror, she’s fast asleep, her head tucked against the top of her car seat. Your heart melts at the state of her. The curls on her head are rowdy and unruly, and you realize now that she’s still in her pajamas. The blue truck patterned pants are stained at the ankles with deep blood, and you have to fight not to pull over again and clean her up.

From its spot in the passenger seat, your phone rings loudly, and you reach across for it with one hand on the steering wheel. “Hello?”

“Love, are you almost here? I fucking swear, I’m about to drive to you myself. How is Jovie doing?” The tension and the anger in his voice somehow make yours melt away a little. It feels like you can breathe, knowing that he’s there waiting for you.

“I’m five minutes away. And Jovie’s asleep right now.”

“Fuck,” he swears. “Mary’s dead?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what we’re going to do about that. She doesn’t have any family, and as far as I know Jovie was the only one she sat for, so that’s ideal I guess.” It’s easier like this, to remember how you’re supposed to respond in situations like this. He’s always made things so much easier for you; your focus pinpoints on Jovie’s safety with the help from his voice.

“I’ll get someone to go over there and clean up. I’ll have things ready for you and Jovie when you get here.”

“Okay,” you agree quietly. “We’re pulling into your neighborhood now.” Like clockwork, Jovie's head snaps up when you pull into Tangerine’s driveway. You’ve never made it to his house without her waking up at the very last moment. It’s endearing on good days and frustrating on the rest, but now you’re just happy that she’s still with her normal routine.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the house and you park the car before stepping out and unbuckling Jovie. Both of the bags are carried in your arms, along with Jovie’s little hand in your own. You stop on the edge of the driveway, looking at Tangerine. You honestly don’t know what to do now that you’re standing in front of him, yearning for the safety of his arms but not knowing if you’re allowed.

“Come here,” Tangerine says. You don’t move. There’s an edge to his voice that you haven’t heard before. Something consequential. Something desperate. “Please.” He says it so quietly and with such little conviction. Like he knows you’ll say no.

Jovie goes first. And you have no choice but to follow her little footsteps until your in his arms. Once you’re there, you can’t remember why you ever wanted to be anywhere else. Slowly, like he’s going to let go at any moment, you wrap your arm around him and clutch the back of his suit in your hand, pulling yourself into him.

He’s so warm and solid against you, his suit jacket soft and welcome against your cheek. It makes you think of how things used to be, when you could come home together to this very house and let yourself bask in his presence.

Those days are gone, but the ghost of them remains in this depraved picture of a family hug: Josie’s blood splattered feet, your shaking hands and blood-dyed shirt, Tangerine’s immaculate suit and slick back hair.

Eventually, you have to let go and walk inside, dropping your bags off at the front door and crowding Jovie into the living room. Tangerine tells you that you should go wash up, and dimly, you agree, walking absentmindedly to the bathroom and stripping down.

It’s not until the warm spray of the water is hitting you that you realize you’re in his bathroom, the one that you used to share when Jovie was a baby.

Instinct had taken over and sent you right back to the past, when you were Tangerine's wife and Jovie’s mother at the same time. Strange, how different things are now.

Now, you’re washing blood off, which isn’t necessarily new, but you’re alone and thinking about the similar blood that covers your beautiful Jovie.

You’re wearing his shirt when you walk out. It used to be your favorite one, worn thin and soft from use, light blue fabric falling to your thighs. You always forget just how tall he is until you’re forced, in moments like this, to remember.

“Jovie’s asleep. I didn’t put her in her room because of the windows, so she’s in the room next door on the couch. Lemon’s on his way over,” Tangerine explains softly, coming over to hand you a towel for your hair, an old habit that neither of you even acknowledges.

“Thanks,” you reply just as quietly like somehow you’ll wake Jovie up from here. “Is she okay? Did you wash her feet off?” It almost seems trivial, to be asking if your daughter didn't go to sleep with blood-covered feet, but it matters to you.

“Yeah, love, I did. Are- are you okay?”

You let out a laugh that sounds too much like a sob and sit on the corner of the bed. “I came home to find our daughter surrounded by blood, which we have a plan for, a plan that I didn’t follow.”

“You made a judgment call. There’s nothing wrong with that, we have to do it all the time,” he comforts. Before you can reply with more negativity, he comes over and puts his hands on your shoulders, cupping your neck. Carefully, he tilts your head up to look him in the eyes. He’s towering over your sitting figure, but it’s far from intimidating. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in his presence, in his comfort.

He’s always been a source of comfort for you, even when you’re not with him. He’s a safety net to fall into during times like these, and you’re falling hard.

“I think it’s my fault,” you whisper, shutting your eyes. “I should have been there sooner. She’s going to have nightmares now. Tan, what if I’ve fucked her up? This is why I stopped, and now it doesn’t matter, she’s going to have these memories of blood and pain and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

He waits patiently for you to finish before shaking his head against your thoughts. “We knew something like this could happen. It’s as much my fault as it is yours, if it’s your fault at all, You’ve tried your best to protect her from this as long as she’s been alive.”

“I could have done more.”

“So could I, but we didn’t. However,” he continues, “Jovie’s okay. She’s safe now. You know that, right? M’not going to let anything happen to the two of you.”

“Thanks, Tan,” you whisper. There are so many more things you want to say, so much more negativity flying through your head, but it’s easier to let him take a little bit of the burden, like you know he wants to.

“Of course, love. We’ll figure this out together.” Slowly, he kneels down on the floor in front of you so you’re at the same height, bringing your heads together. You close your eyes and get lost in the feel of his hands against you, his breath against your own, his presence all around you. A part of you in the back of your mind reminds you that this could be your normal.

You pull apart and Tangerine wipes the tear from your eye with his thumb, so gentle. “Who did this to you?” There’s an edge to Tangerine’s voice that you’ve never wanted to hear aimed at you. But you don’t think it’s you that he’s mad at.

“It could have been a lot of people,” you start.

“You fucking know who it was. Tell me.” He’s losing patience now, wanting to help in the way he knows how. There’s no way for him to know the way that he’s already helping by being with you. His presence is a comfort, a safety that you can’t get if he’s out there looking for someone.

“Probably White Death’s guys,” you admit, thinking back. You’ve been careful, but there are always people who will talk. “They’ll do whatever to keep their names out of people’s mouths.”

“Fucking hell,” he swears, his hands on his hips. The dying light from the hallway casts shadows against his silhouette, the shiny silver signet ring on his pinky and the warm metal against his chest glinting along the hardwoods. “Why would they leave Jovie alive?” It’s a stupid question, one that both of you already know the answer to anyway, but you know why he’s asking. Sometimes it’s easier for other people to say the hard things. It’s not like you’re upset about Jovie being alive, you’re so utterly grateful, but it can’t be for no reason.

“Because they know who Jovie is. They want to scare us because there planning for something worse, something we aren’t expecting.”

“Mommy? Daddy? I’m scared,” Jovie calls from the other room. “There are monsters underneath the bed.” It’s something she’s been scared of for as long as you can remember, but you can’t help the spike of fear that courses through you. You’re not alone though, because Tangerine looks at you with the same panic in his eyes.

“We’re coming, love,” he replies, and you follow him through the door. Jovie’s sitting up in the bed, surrounded by blankets that build up around her and holding her stuffed bear close to her chest.

“Do you know which monster it is this time?” you ask softly, crawling next to her. Dutifully, Tangerine checks under the bed carefully and gives an exaggerated thumbs up that makes Jovie’s giggle beside you.

“It’s Lenny,” she whispers into your ear, and you nod solemnly at her.

“That’s a serious monster problem. Do you think Daddy’s going to have to move out of his house?” For as long as she’s been scared of the monsters under her bed, you and Tangerine have tried to twist it into something better. That’s when you started asking her what the monsters’ names are and what she thinks they're doing under her bed. Usually, you’re able to get her to a point of calm and, on the rare occasion, to a point where she’s no longer afraid of a certain monster. So far, you and Tangerine have been able to convince her that the monsters Polly and Patrick are protecting her, but Lenny has been a challenge since the beginning.

“I will not be moving, ladies. I don’t think Lenny’s here tonight, Jovie-love. And if he is, tell him to piss off because I’m too tired to fight a monster.” For emphasis, he plops face first down on the bed and starts snoring loudly.

“Tan, language,” you chastise lightly, sending a half-hearted glare in his direction. It’s a fruitless task, which you learned a long time ago, but you won’t stop trying, more for your own sanity than for Jovie’s sake.

“Yeah, Daddy, language,” Jovie mimics, crossing her arms over her chest. You laugh and nudge Tangerine, who looks less than thrilled.

“Right, you two are a pair,” he groans into his hands, peeking through to wiggle his eyes at Jovie. “But I think it’s time for my ladies to go to sleep.”

“Thank you for saving me,” Jovie adds sweetly, snuggling further underneath the blanket. Your heart melts at the way she holds her teddy close to her chest. “Will you always come for me?”

“Jovie, baby, there could be dragons and mountains and oceans between us and we would still find a way to you, okay? Daddy and I will never stop looking for you if you’re away from us. Never. Do you understand?” You run a hand over her hair and tuck a stray strand behind her ear.

At that, Jovie opens her eyes and looks at you, blinking slowly.“But you and Daddy don’t love each other.”

“Oh, baby,” you sigh. You can’t look at Tangerine next to you, you can’t bear to see the look on his face. “I’ll always love your dad. I love that he’s the person I get to raise you with. I love that he’s there when I need him. We just…weren't able to love each other together. It’s like that sometimes.” You wish it weren’t, but that’s not a fight that you want to have again.

“Jovie-love, your mom and I have loved each other since before you were born, but it’s easier for us to love each other from separate places,” Tangerine adds, smoothing the side of Jovie’s face. His words ring a painful truth that you’ve known for years.

“But we’ll always come together to be with you, baby. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Promise?” she asks, holding up her pinky. You smile and take it in your own, and Tangerime dutifully does the same.

“Promise,” you echo, holding onto her hand. She nods her acceptance and you let go, as does Tangerine. “Now, it’s time for bed. We’ll be here in the morning, so you just come and wake us up, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy. You’re both going to be here?”

“Yeah, love. We’re having a little sleepover for tonight until your mom’s house is better. Does that sound fun?” Tangerine asks, tucking Jovie further into the blankets and glancing over at you.

“Yes,” Jovie agrees sleepily, snuggling further into her blankets. “Sounds fun.”

“Good,” you smile. “Goodnight, Jovie.” With that, you slowly make your way out of the room, Tangerine on your heels.

Once you’re out of the room and back into his bedroom, you sit down on his bed and he sits next to you, shoulders against each other. “You can sleep in here, I’ll sleep in the living room,” he offers.

You shake your head and respond, “No, I couldn’t do that. It’s your house, Tan.” And you don’t want to slip in the bed you used to share without him,

“It’s alright, love, really. I don’t use that couch enough.”

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own house,” you argue back. “It’s rude.”

“Look, you’ve been through a lot today. I’m not going to make it worse by giving you a sore neck and back tomorrow. I know you well enough to know that it would happen, so don’t pull any shot with me,” he warns, and you don’t have a lot of defense against that.

“Fine, I’ll sleep in here, but I’m absolutely not going to have you sleep on the couch. We’re both adults here, we can share a fucking bed for one night.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “If that’s what it takes.”

There’s space in between you when you lay down, but he’s closer than he’s been in a long time.

#tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fic #tangerine x y/n #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #bullet train fanfiction #bullet train #bullet train fic #bullet train fanfic #tangerine #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #bullet proof universe

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thehyperfixationspeedrunner · 13 days

Text

This is me trying

On ao3 too

Summary: It's been a month since what Cardan has been calling the "reptile accident" when he decides to get up before Jude, not knowing the consequences.

OR these two are traumatised and they may not acknowledge it, but I will.

Trigger warnings (already put in the tags but I'm not sure if I did it right so better safe than sorry): panic attack, cussing

It's weird how easily you fall into routine. It's barely been a month since what Cardan has started calling the "reptile accident" or the one he likes best "revealing his true form" (although that one isn't used in front of Jude, she's not sure why but she prefers it that way). Anyway, it's been a month since Cardan has been transformed into a snake, since Cardan and Jude has started to live together as the King and Queen of Elfhame but they have already established a routine, even if neither of them has noticed it until today.

Jude is always the first to wake up - Jude was raised by a general and Cardan by a prince, so that part is obvious. She dresses first, giving Mr. Lazy time to sleep, and then she wakes up sleeping beauty even though he always complains that while there aren't people busting into the room saying he's late, she's waking him up early. He never says he hates it. Jude suspects is because he can't lie. From then, Jude orders breakfast while Cardan dresses up, and they eat together before having to deal with their royal obligations.

Today, however, was different. Shockingly, Jude was able to have some good 6 hours of sleep and woke up a bit disoriented. See, this is the bad part about sleeping a lot. When you wake up, your senses take a while to turn on. That's definitely the reason why Jude barely sleeps, at least that's what she tells everyone when they ask her. Because of that, she took a bit to notice that she was alone in bed, which triggered something in her brain. She instantly gets out of bed and starts to look in every corner of their room repeating to herself that everything is fine, Cardan just woke up earlier and is dressing up or putting the hundred of layers that he puts every morning because "I know I look impressive naturally but I am the High King, Jude, I have to look perfect". Except he is nowhere to be found.

See, a small but important part of this quickly created routine was when Jude woke up and she would always look to the side and see Cardan relaxed and asleep, would look at his chest rise and fall and make sure that, yes, he's alive and, no, this last month was not a fever dream, he really is here. Without that confirmation, Jude is starting to spiral, and the fact that Cardan is not in the room doesn't help.

She tries to take a deep breath. She's the High Queen goddammit, she can't panic every time a minor routine change happens. But the truth is that she cannot take the deep breath. She cannot even take a small breath. She's pretty sure she's not breathing at all. But she has to because Cardan needs her. Jude goes through her options: one, he did wake up earlier, got knocked off in the room but somewhere hidden where she didn't check; two, he got knocked off somewhere in the castle and his unconscious body is lying there; three, he got abducted while he slept; four... Maybe last month was a fever dream. No, she is not going to think about option four.

While she does a more precise search through their room, she also tries to think of who would do this. He's the King of Elfhame, so it's obvious that he has a lot of enemies, but she is not remembering anyone who's this mad at him right now. However, her hands are trembling and there's still not enough air reaching her lungs, so maybe her memory is not the best at the moment. You were almost deadly stabbed before the incident.

Ok, he is not in the room, so option number two. This one is not the most likely. If someone knocked him off, they wouldn't just leave him in the middle of the corridor, and Faes don't just slip, so he couldn't have knocked himself out. Besides the palace is huge, it would take too long to search. Maybe you were less healed than you thought. Option number three it is. There are three windows in the room. The climb is hard but not impossible, she has done it herself while having a major injury. A major injury that could have been infected. Jude shakes her head and checks the three windows. None of them is broken and they are all locked from the inside, like they were when they went to sleep, which she knows because she always checks that before going to bed. Unless the person was a master spy (which is an option), she doesn't know how someone pulled that of. The other way into the room is through the door, so she quickly opens it, revealing two knights part of her security.

"Was there any disturbance last day?" She would be surprised that her voice somehow didn't fail if she was at all worried with that right now.

"We heard or seen nothing different than usual, your majesty."

"Have you fallen asleep or abandoned your post anytime during your shift?" The knights were visibly offended by that, but she had to clear all her options.

"No, your majesty. Is everyth-" Having her answers, Jude closes the door, leaving the knights to their jobs. If she was in her right mind she would have noticed that she was still in her bed clothes, her hair was mess, the room was worse and her hands still trembled and her breath was still labored. But she was not her in her right mind. Cardan is missing- He was not here at all. Her husband is missing and she is going to find him. Maybe he was taken outside their bedroom and there is going to be some kind of clue outside of it.

She is about to open the door again when a thought crosses her mind. The lover's bedroom. There is a pathway between that room and the High King and Queen's room. That is how whoever took Cardan got in. No one got in. Hallucinations caused by infections are common, at least for mortals. She slides through the pathway towards the other bedroom but is met with a similar scenario. No window was broken and all of them are closed from the inside, same with the door, no signs of breaking. Stop looking for what you won't find. You know you can barely remember anything after cutting Cardan's head off. It was the serpents head. You know that's the same thing. There was a battlefield where you broke down. You could have easily been stabbed. I would remember it. Would you? Sometimes, our mind purposely forgets traumatic memories. You could have passed out. No. You could have dreamt. Stop. Cardan is dead and you have been feeding yourself this fantasy because you can't deal with the guilt. STOP. You killed him and now you're living in a world without him and you'll keep living in it because that's the reality. I SAID STOP.

Jude. The sound of something breaking. She can't do it. She can't go back to those three days. She can't live without Cardan's mockery. She can't live without his laugh. She can't.

JUDE. She's shaking now, or someone is shaking her, she's not lucid enough to understand. God, he's her anchor. She doesn't know what to do without him. She wants to go back to sleep. She wants to go back to their routine. She wants to hear him complain about waking up early again. She wants to feel his fingers playing with her hair again. She wants-

JUDE! Cardan. She opens her eyes (since when were they closed?) and faces the love of her life's face. He looks adorably worried, full make up and hair nicely treated. She can't help but smile. "Cardan" she whispers, trying not to force her voice tired from screaming and crying (curious, she doesn't remember that). She puts her head in the space between his neck and shoulder and he starts rubbing circles on her back. "Stay" she pleads. Because that's what she's doing, pleading to the universe to let her stay in this fever dream, to have more time with Cardan, even if it isn't real, even if he's dead, even if that's her fault and there's just her to blame.

"Always" and that pisses her off. Because that's what Cardan would say, that's how Cardan looks, that's how Cardan acts and this mind prison has no right to be this close to reality.

"Liar" she spits. He looks mostly confused and a bit hurt but she doesn't care, this isn't real so nothing fucking matters.

"Jude, I would never abandon you-"

"But you did!" she's close to screaming now, but she doesn't care, her voice was cracking, but it doesn't matter. She has to get this out. "You abandoned me for three days because of that prophechy bullshit. You left me to rule Elfhame while simultaneously dealing with the schemings that my father and the frozen royalty was fucking doing and the fact that the love of my life was a goddam snake and then I, and I-" she can't get it out, she still can't believe it.

"You saved me."

"I killed you." she is fully sobbing now, but she can't stop. She gets up (she was sitting down?) and keeps going "You're dead and this is just a manifestation from my brain, because somewhere else I'm also dying and I hope I do because I can't live in a world where you're not. I physically will not be able to continue without you!" She sinks into the floor using the bed as support and Cardan sits in front of her. He has a puzzled expression in his face. They stay some time in silence, Jude catching her breath and Cardan trying to put pieces together.

"Why do you think I'm not real?" he finally asks, his voice tiny as if he's afraid of the answer.

"You weren't there." Jude matches his tone. "When I woke up. I always check to make sure you're there because if you are, then that means you're real and I'm not dreaming. At first, I thought you were kidnapped. That's why I'm here, I thought this was how whoever took you got in."

"My wife, scheming even when she's panicking." he's looking at her with that adoration in his eyes that never fails to take her breath away. "Let's keep scheming, shall we?" He looks at her, waiting for an answer so she nods. "You say that you are dreaming, you're in this coma and you can't wake up. Well, let's test this theory. Did you know that you can't read in dreams?" Another nod. Cardan gets up, picks a book from the bedside table and hands it to her. "Well, can you read?" The answer is yes. The book was a mortal romance that she was sure she had seen in Cardan's hands. That meant that this was real, Cardan was here and she hadn't killed him. Immediate relief washed over and with that came more tears that she hadn't noticed when they stopped. God, she was a mess. This is ridiculous, she is being ridiculous. Trying to look less like she just had a mental breakdown over nothing Jude attempts to clean the tears that don't stop. Of course this is reality, of course Cardan just woke up earlier and went to do god knows what. She's the fucking High Queen and she can't stand when her husband is out earlier, can't keep a cool head, can't-

"Stop." Cardan gently takes the hands that are trying to hide the tears that keep coming, why don't they stop? "Don't do that." His tone is gentle but secure and so goddamn grounding, how does he do it?

"Do what?"

"Close yourself. I could see the moment you realised that this was the reality because that was the moment the mask came back on. You're probably thinking that you don't have the right to feel this way because you can't show weaknesses or whatever bullshit your mind thinks of." Sometimes it's scary how well he knows her. "Don't close yourself from me." He is rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand and it feels so right, everything about him feels so right.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." His tone is becoming more frustrated. "This is obviously bothering you, but I had no idea and because of my ignorance you just had a fucking panic attack." Her eyebrows went up. "I may have been reading about mortal psychology, but that's not important, what's important is," he moves his hands to cup her face and cleans the tears - that have finally stopped - with his thumb. "You don't have to pretend with me."

"You're one to talk." She retaliates but doesn't push him away. "You haven't said another word about those three days since I asked what it was like being a snake on the same day you stopped being one." Cardan laughs because he's Cardan and he laughs when he's nervous and he is not the only one who knows the other too well, she can see in his eyes that the thought of having to speak of those three days of hell terrifies him as much as her.

He moves to her side and sighs. "We really are made for each other, aren't we?" He seems to consider something before saying. "Let's make a pact. Whenever we want the other to open up, we say a code word and they have to do it after we reveal something that has been bothering us. No lies, no tricks, just the plain truth. Deal?" He gives her his right hand. It is always dangerous to make a deal with a fae, but this is Cardan, they have passed the backstabbing phase when she came back from exile. She takes his hand and shakes it.

"Deal. But we have to choose the word, something that we won't say normally."

"California." The place they went on their honeymoon instead of being on the two weeks celebrations of the Mortal Queen's victory over the serpent. The place where they were just two teenagers in love and not The Queen and King of Elhame, not the warrior and the prince, not the people with traumatic childhood, not the two broken pieces of what should be two whole people.

"Sounds great."

"I said it, so I start." He takes a deep breath and speaks. "I woke up earlier today because I had a nightmare. I wasn't someone trapped inside the snake like people like to believe, I was the snake. When the snake died, I died, even if for a few seconds." Jude takes a sharp breath, she always took comfort in the fact that she hadn't cut his head, but what was trapping him, that he hadn't felt anything. Cardan notices and takes both her hands and looks at her straight in the eyes. "I don't blame you, nor will I ever. If I say something assumimg the opposite, you have the premission to cut my head because that is not me. But as I was saying, when I saw you taking out the sword, I couldn't help but feel relief, but when you dealt the blow I, I-" another deep breath "I couldn't feel anything. I don't remember anything. I died. And that terrifies me. I was. I wasn't there. I replay that in my mind countless days, but today was so vivid, I couldn't fall back asleep, so I got out. I needed fresh air. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. I should've come back when it was time to wake up, I should've woken you, I didn't know that you needed that, but if I did, I would have done it."

They stay a few moments in silence, taking deep breaths and deep in thoughts.

"Your turn."

She wants to sugar-coat it. She wants to say that it wasn't that bad, she doesn't want to see guilt in his face even if it isn't his fault. But Cardan didn't sugar-coated when he revealed that what she did hurt him even if he knew it was going to hurt her. So instead, she says:

"Those were the worst three days of my life. I honestly thought it was going to be ok when we were negotiating with Madoc. That we won, they were going to surrender and we would be fine. Then I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe when Grimsen said that only death would save you. I went to Baphen, I went to the Old King, but all of them had the same answer. Somehow I had to rule the fucking kingdom while grieving a death that I didn't believe in. On top of all of that the court of teeths was on my throat, making plans to try to turn you and me into their puppets like their daughter. The relief that I had when I saw you alive was bigger than anything I thought I could feel, but the time between that and when I cutted the sna- your head it was my lowest. It was a hole and I was at the deep end with no way out. I cannot live without you." She stops to look at him. Look at his black hair and his eyes that look like black holes. His pale skin and his small mouth. No, she can't imagine a world without him. But that moment was close, so close. "I am so scared that I will go back to that void, I'm so scared that the universe wasn't as kind as I thought, I'm so scared to not wake up next to you."

He puts his arm around her shoulder and she puts her head on his. Jude looks up and sees tears running down Cardan's face, so she hugs him, feeling his other arm surround her. They stay silent for some time while Carden cries in Jude's shoulder and Jude just holds him close, all her tears wasted a few minutes ago.

"I'm sorry." Cardan was the one to break the silence.

"Not your fault."

"Liar."

"I wouldn't lie to you." It's the truth.

"May I remind you that you said you were fine while bawling your eyes out a few minutes ago?" OK, half true.

"When you have a nightmare, find me. I don't care if I just went to sleep, I don't care if I hadn't slept in days, I don't care if I'm not even asleep and you have to drag me out of my work, find me."

"When you feel like this is not real, find me. I don't care if you have to send someone to do it, I don't care if you run around the palace screaming my name, I don't care if I'm in the most important reunion, find me."

They break the hug to look at each other and say at the same time, "Deal".

"Sooo, do you want to have breakfast in bed and completely run away from our responsibilities?"

"We're the King and Queen of Elfhame."

"Exactly, there is no one above to stop us."

"We have an entire kingdom depending on us."

"Well, as the High King, I order you to stay in bed with me."

"As the High Queen, I'm going to refuse that order."

"Come on, you're mortal, you can say that we are sick or something." Jude's going to retaliate, but honestly? She's exhausted and spending the night in bed with her husband doesn't seem the worst idea.

"You are a horrible influence, do you know that?"

"Does that mean I win?"

She sighs. "Yes, you win."

"Yay" He says, getting up and doing a little spin like a child who was able to negotiate bedtime with their parents. She can't help but smile at his shenanigans.

Next, he does an extremely exaggerated bow and continues. "After you, my queen."

At that, she fully laughs, takes his hand and goes down the pathway with him. She hates being vulnerable, but with him, it isn't that bad. How do we take the armour off? A piece at a time. She feels like they just took another one.

-‐----------------‐-----------------‐----------------‐----------------

So, I had this idea since I finished Queen of Nothing and since I didn't see any fic like this I decided to make it myself. The characters may be a bit OOC, I'm not tha familiar with them. I am not a writer and my first language is not English, so apologies for any mistake. 🫶

Btw this was way bigger than I thought, no idea how many words, but damn, I'm having a brain riot.

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