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neechees · 4 months

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I am putting out a warning for the blog @/blktransdyke for very likely being a scammer, and is/was the same person behind the now deactivated blog @/raisedeyebrowemojii (who is also very likely a scammer) for the following reasons:

Usage of a very common story one particular scammer constantly reuses across multiple blogs (which i've talked about here before)

Several typical scammer red flags: Their blog has only existed since April 2023, and they started asking for money immediately. The blog only posted for the month of April and then did not post for months only to come back in January 2024, and start asking for money again

Their blog is sparse of anything denoting a personality, personal interests, friendly interactions with mutuals or followers, aesthetic choices and/or blog customization, and the only thing they reblog is also mentioned in their bio, thus indicating a falsified persona for a scam blog. (Ex: they say they are a lesbian, and so have a few posts about lesbianism, and the rest of the posts are almost exclusively fundraising posts)

Inconsistent information

Suspicious behavior on twitter, which was also noted and called out on twitter

Claiming to be homeless, but apparently rejected the non-monetary aid from another user who offered to house them

Claims to be "Indigenous" but then misuses the terminology of their alleged tribe (thus likely indicating racefaking for a scam persona)

No proof of their claims

Posting the same personal information as two other suspicious accounts while call three claim to be different people (& this is connected to the raisedeyebrowemojii blog)

& you know me, I always come with screenshots and proof. Image descriptions will be available in Alt text. (& please bear with me, some screenshots lead to imgur due to tumblr limiting images to 10).

First off, the suspicious story that is often reused by one particular scammer:

There's a scammer on here that ALWAYS uses the same story of:

Claiming to be trans,

claiming to be homeless,

Says they are homeless because they were/are being kicked out by a bigoted/homophobic/transphobic parent

Shows a screenshot of a IM or text message correspondence between them, and their alleged parent, where the parent is being abusive, and the messages always very concisely, very conveniently mention what is happening

Usually says they are disabled in some way (though before they would usually claim to be autistic)

The blktransdyke blog has all five of these things.

Im putting the rest under the cut because this is gunna get long, buckle in.

Secondly, inconsistent information, rejecting non-monetary aid, & suspicious Twitter activity (& this is also connected to the creation date of their tumblr account, which you'll see in a moment):

The blog blktransdyke uses two methods of recieving money, gofundme, which is linked on their main page and is run by someone named "Avalon Smith" (& we can assume this is the name they prefer to go by, because they have the tag "avalon speaks" on their blog), and this gofundme account says its based in York, Ontario. And the second is paypal, which uses a different name, which is "Ashton Jones" & the paypal url of "/ashtonjonesy". Below, the first screenshot on the very left, is a screenshot of the first post they made asking for money on April 14th 2023 while linking to the gofundme account, and then the second screenshot to the right is the blktransdyke's more recent donation post asking for money to be sent to the ashtonjonesy paypal account, and then here is a link to a screenshot of the gfm run by "Avalon Smith".

The consistencies are odd: and while one might think that "Ashton Jones" is an older name or a dead name, but if you search up "ashtonjonesy" in a search engine, you get two results: one leads to a post made by a now deleted twitter/X account with the url "blktransdyke" while using that same paypal (so we can assume this is the same person from twitter/X) and the second is ANOTHER twitter account, still up, that is completely different, also using the twitter url that is the same as the paypal username (/ashtonjonesy) who also claims to be homeless & kicked out by a transphobic parent, but says they have different pronouns than blktransdyke & seems to be transmasc, not a binary trans lesbian that blktransdyke claims to be. Below is screenshots of that.

But what's more troubling: the second twitter account @/ashtonjonesy on twitter/X says that they were 24 years old as of July 2021, while blktransdyke claims that they are 21 as of January 2024. So this can't be the same person using different names and twitter accounts, and yet curiously both are using the exact same story (both claim they are trans, homeless, and disabled & using a wheelchair), and both use the exact same paypals, while are apparently two completely different people. And again, we know that there is a scammer who repeatedly reuses the exact same story details across various accounts

And then, more concerning, that if you search up "blktransdyke" on twitter, while the original posts by the account are gone due to the account being deleted, you get results of various Twitter/X users retweeting the account blktransdyke's post, which was them asking for money. The bottom screenshots are related to the next point: highlighted in yellow you can see someone offering blktransdyke a place to stay, and they live in the same province, and the second screenshot, highlighted in blue you can see that on April 12th 2023, a twitter user accused them of being a scam. We can assume the blktransdyke account wasn't taken down yet that day due to this user encouraging other users to report them.

Recent tumblr creation date:

The oldest and first post made by the blog blktransdyke on tumblr was posted on April 14th, 2023. And as you can see, that was two days after the blktransdyke twitter/X account was accused of scamming. So the blktransdyke twitter account was accused of scamming, then was either deleted or self deactivated, and then the blktransdyke tumblr account showed up immediately after that while using the exact same paypal and story. Which brings us to the other half, which is

Rejecting aid

On this screenshot we can see in a retweet of what the original blktransdyke twitted/X account originally said in the post, and that on August 22nd 2022, they claimed they were still homeless, so apparently they didn't take up the person in Toronto who was literally offering them a place to stay on September 2nd, 2022 (which you can see in the screenshot above, on the second last tweet result to the right).

Claims of Indigeneity & inaccurate terminology:

This one is more minor compared to the other evidence listed here, but in blktransdyke's bio, they claim to be "Inuit" & "Afro-Indigenous": the problem here is that "Inuit" is the plural form, its uncommon that Inuit refer to themselves as this in the singular pronoun because it is grammatically incorrect and an actual Inuk would know that, and instead will use "Inuk" to refer to themselves, but blktransdyke says they are "Inuit". So this terminology is inaccurate coming from a person claiming to be "Indigenous". & just in case they change it, here is a screenshot if their current profile description. Moving on,

Posting the same information as another blog

This is where things get more wild. I have reason to believe that the now deleted blog @/raisedeyebrowemojii ("Jay") is and was a scammer who befriended multiple people to gain trust, and that blktransdyke is the same person as them due to the information that both blogs posted. A couple things to note here is that 1. Raisedeyebrowemojii claimed that they were suffering due to a terminal kidney disease, 2. ALSO stated that she was escaping an abusive situation, was a lesbian, was homeless, and was victimized by a homophobic/transphobic parent, and 3. Had not posted anything since June 2023, before eventually being deactivated. Some of the users "Jay" befriended worried that she may have died due to this apparent kidney disease (which you can find in the tumblr search if you look up that tumblr username). Now, I can't find any paypal that "Jay" posted, but they DID post several other links allegedly that were being used for their donation posts

In this post, graciously saved on webarchive for your viewing pleasure, on May 16th 2023, @/raisedeyebrowemojii claimed that they needed a mattress, and also linked a patreon for allegedly their "best friends'" and "caregiver's" cat, named Trouble 📌. Put a pin in that, we'll come back to it. Below is a screenshot of that post where they linked the patreon. Notice that it's a brown, striped tabby cat. And here is the patreon link (which is still up) that the @/raisedeyebrowemojii blog linked for their "best friend's cat" that was apparently meant to be used to fundraise for their day to day life bills. It doesn't have a lot of patrons or followers. Below is a screenshot of the link I gave for webarchive talking about fundraising for the mattress, and the cat patreon.

Also note, that neither this post by raisedeyebrowemojii nor in the patreon does it link to any other site for content on "Trouble the cat". It vaguely mentions a private Facebook page, but doesn't give any links.

And the blog @/blktransdyke posted this video as well as THIS video, and in both videos, they claim that this brown, striped, tabby cat is their "best friend's cat" 📌. Below are screenshots showing its the same cat, including the same black and yellow blanket.

So both the blogs @/raisedeyebrowemojii AND @/blktransdyke posted a cat that looks very similar: it's brown, a tabby, and striped, and both said that this cat was their "best friend's", and raisedeyebrowemojii said that this cat's name was "Trouble" & referred to them as "Trouble the Cat" in the linked Patreon allegedly belonging to their "best friend". Except here's the bigger problem.

Trouble the Cat is already an existing open, publicly available facebook page with 27K likes and 42K+ followers, and it has its own YouTube page, tiktok account, and Instagram. And if you look at the far top right video on the second screenshot showing the youtube channel, it's the exact same video that appears on the blktransdyke tumblr page. It's the exact same brown, striped tabby cat, in the exact same grooming position, on the same black and yellow blanket, with the same thumbnail, and the exact same caption.

So both Raisedeyebrowemojii AND blktransdyke posted the exact same cat that allegedly belongs to their "best friend", and both of them claim to be homeless, trans, disabled, and being kicked out by a transphobic parent.

& if you go to the links, the official trouble the cat's first instagram post was made on December 23rd 2022, its oldest youtube video was posted on December 23rd 2022, and the facebook says it was made on March 30th, 2021, HOWEVER, the account says they've been active since 2008, but made a post on November 15th, 2023 that said they'd been hacked and made a NEW account, and furthermore, on November 7th 2023, they ALSO made a post saying that multiple other accounts were trying to impersonate them. So, side note, this account could have been hacked by the scammer.

The raisedeyebrowemojii linked that cat patreon on May 17th, 2023, and the oldest video that the blktransdyke posts of that cat is on January 6th, 2024. Both therefore, could have plausibly and likely did, steal these cat videos because all accounts of the troublethecat social media accounts existed BEFORE either raisedeyebrowemoji OR blktransdyke posted them. I find it highly unlikely that both of these blogs had the exact same "best friend".

And if this was true and that this really WAS raisedeyebrowemojii's "best friend" and their cat, then why didn't raisedeyebrowemojii blog link to the other official troublethecat social media accounts, especially since they were so popular, and they claimed they were using this patreon for fundraising for bills? And why didn't the official social media accounts ever say anything about raisedeyebrowemojii's patreon if they were "best friends" trying to fundraise? Surely, an account with 42K followers would have more than a few willing patrons that could have helped their alleged situation.

Therefore, neither raisedeyebrowemojii OR blktransdyke are actually affiliated with this highly popular social media account of "Trouble the Cat" and BOTH of them stole from this account to scam, and both accounts wrre/are run by the same person.

#long post #donation scam #scam #donation scammer #justin's scam list

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en-archive · 3 months

Note

Hey can you write a smut about heeseung that he is a innocent nerd but secretly knows everything and is a total opposite in bed like he looks very cute and innocent and submissive but in bed he is a mean daddy dom

This is pure filth, I don’t see him being much of a daddy dom, but he most definitely is a dom so you’re not going away anywhere anon 🐇🎀

Nerd!Heeseung is a very innocent, funny, but nice dude sitting in your engineering class. He is not your typical nerd, he keeps a cool atmosphere, despite everyone assuming he is an innocent virgin, you didn't think so. He comes in the classroom with a cold demeanor, before smiling at anyone who greets him. He is helpful yet he keeps to himself and doesn't get close to anyone. He is the typical student that puts a little too long in studying, yet what people don't know is the actual time he puts on ruining you in the sheets the evening after your lectures.

He seems like your typical lanky boy, wearing loose fitted shirts and baggy jeans, with a thin rimmed glasses. but people don't know the several positions he bends you over in the bed . It started off innocently, one evening you found yourself stuck on a math question, and so happened to see him online in the course chat. You asked him to help you out, but instead he offered to help you personally in his dorm. "My roommate is not here, so we can work on it in peace." read the text. That time you did not think much of it, what would he even do? All he ever cared for was his grades and participation in the group. The meetings were usual, he was alone, waiting for you in his gray sweatpants and another loose gray shit that exposed his collar bones.

You wouldn't dress up any special for him, but when the lessons became a little too hot, you noticed it wasn't because of the rising temperatures with the arrival of summer. It was still winter for God's sake. At some point, the tension became irresistible, you knew he had ulterior motives when he started asking you if you still needed help with the homework, and you insisted you did. You never looked at him in that light, yet when he took off his glasses one of those nights and you both had already concluded the lesson good 20 minutes ago, when he offered you guys watch a movie. You agreed, despite piles of assignments waiting for you, but this chance was only once in a lifetime, and knew if you said no, you would never get to do it.

The movie was ignored five minutes in, his hand had already found itself on your thigh, your lips searching for his. The thin shirt he had on was ripped off of him, your fingers finding the skin on his shoulders, gripping when his own started gripping your ass.

"So much for a teacher's pet." You moaned when his fingers started to yank the hem of your shirt, dragging the fabric off of you, letting his lips latch onto the soft skin of your neck, biting and licking the sweet spot behind your ear.

"I could be your pet. " He chuckled lowly, confessing later on how much he had been looking at you the whole time during class, and how he did not let up the chance to get you alone when you asked him for help. He craved you so bad some days, the way your ass was so well sculpted out in your jeans, and the way you smiled, or scrunched your face when you couldn't understand a subject. he wanted to bite off that smile from your lips, get drunk on you. His hands finally found your naked waist, snaking up wards just to unclasp the bra and free your chest, just to immediately latch on. University, and work took up most of your time, when was the last time you got properly laid? You didn't remember, but you knew this was going to deliver you from the constant ache that bothered you these days.

The way his lips would nibble on the sensitive buds, and how his fingers would grasp the other, kneading, and caressing it. His tongue flicked the bud several times, only to trail up sloppy and wet kisses to your collar bone, leaving small butterflies around the décolletage. Covering them up would be a bitch, but that was a problem for the you tomorrow. His hands worked on the skin on your back, slowly, feather like, lingering his fingers over the goosebumps that had formed from the slight cool air in the living room. You gasped when his fingers found solace in gripping your bare ass in your clothes. You let out a shaky moan when his hands started pushing the fabric off of you, helping you rid yourself off your sweatpants and panties.

His eyes never left observing you, never leaving your face like a researcher looking at his new discovery, smiling in awe as one of his digits tested your squelching hole. Collecting the juices, you whined and smacked him in the chest when he licked the glossiness off of his fingers.

"I have been craving to taste you for so long. You make me so crazy with that cute ass of yours in class" He finally wriggled beneath you, dragging out his hard on from his sweatpants, the abused red tip already leaking precum.

"You should have said something then Hee, fuck!" You breathed out a sigh of relief when two of his digits started scissoring you, preparing for the abuse your pussy was about to experience from his tip.

"I tried, you are just so unapproachable sometimes!" He chuckled before he dragged his dick over your wet slit, collecting your juices on him before pushing in the fat tip, stretching you out just right.

You whined, arching your back from the stretch, but to him it sounded like the sweetest melody; seeing you on him, whimper and have a hard time taking his dick in, begging for him to slow down before he bottomed out and touched you balls deep. Before you could say anything to him, he took the mental que from you, seeing as you relaxed in his touch and sighed from relief and pleasure, finally getting to experience something hitting your cervix since a long time.

His hands positioned themselves on your ass again, smacking it once, just to test the waters, liking the response he got from you, hearing you and seeing you bite your lip, letting out a soft moan followed by his name.

His hips started their abuse on you slow at first, trying to grasp what you liked. He was such a good student, yet no ne would ever imagine him lean his forehead on you as he smiled at your misery to handle him. The way he teased you with his slow thrusts, not even letting you bounce on him, holding you still before he heard you start begging, which made him smile devilishly.

"Hm, what was that?" He halted himself inside you, leaving you shaking in his lap as you tried moving your hips in circular motions, trying to get him to hit you in that delicious spot, to finally see stars.

"Don't be such a fucking tease!" you whined, digging your nails in his hands, leaving crescent moons in their trail. You hated the smug look on his face, the way eh enjoyed you begging. At some point he had enough of your suffering, and started moving his hips, letting you match him in movement. The cries and whines leaving your agape mouth could have been heard from the outside of the dorm, the freshman girl passing by the door hurrying up her steps as her cheeks flushed crimson red.

"I will teach you proper language next time you come over along with math, hm, what do you say sweetheart?" You whined, the familiar knot finally tying itself inside your stomach, and you screamed when the tip of his dick started hitting your g-spot at an abnormal pace. You knew he was close.

“ Hee. I-I’m close!” You blurted out before he gave you an affirmative kiss, his tongue immediately finding yours. Drop dripped down your chin as you moaned in his mouth, letting the knot release, finally orgasming after his load shoot right inside you. His hand came to give you little soft pats on your back and ass, soothing you from the high. When his lips finally left yours, you smiled at his flushed face and your fucked up state.

“Seems you’ll have to tutor me from now on! “

#enhypen #enhypen heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen drabbles #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen head cannons #enhypen requests #enhypen asks #enhypen x Reader #keeper writes #keepers anons

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confused-pyramid · 2 years

Text

Derailed

pairing: tangerine x assassin!fem!reader

summary: When Tangerine spots you in the middle of his mission on a bullet train, he gets entangled in your plans and loses track of his own...

word count: 2.8k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, slight marking, dirty talk, canon!typical violence, drinking

"Got it, sir," you say before hanging up the phone and stepping onto the train. This was your first mission since you left the White Death's payroll and you had to prove yourself to your superiors if you wanted to rebuild your reputation.

You have no idea what is waiting for you on this train, but you can imagine a mission as straightforward as retrieving a briefcase will be anything but simple.

Straightening your bartender uniform, you push through the throngs of people exiting the train and strut down the aisles as you search for the package you were assigned to find.

***

"Enough with the Thomas the train shit," Tangerine groans to Lemon as the bullet train finally leaves the station. "I don't give a flying fuck if you think I'm a Thomas or Diesel or whatever."

"Well, first of all," Lemon interjects, lifting a finger, "it's Thomas the Tank Engine. And second of all, I never said you were a Diesel. I made that very cle-"

Tangerine stops listening when he notices your figure pass them down the aisle, your gait tantalizingly familiar.

What the fuck are you doing here? he thinks before standing up abruptly.

"Lemon, hold that thought."

Tangerine grabs the briefcase and slowly follows you down the aisle, making sure to keep a safe distance so as not to alert you of his presence. He's skirting around the other passengers trying to put their luggage away, and he's about to catch up with you when a person in a large Momomon costume steps in front of him.

"Get the fuck out of my way," he grunts irritatedly, shoving the figure into one of the seats, before noticing all the children around him. "Apologies for my language."

He leaves them with a small wave, but it's only then that he notices you are missing.

"Fuck!" Tangerine exclaims again, kicking the seat next to him. He doesn't waste any more time and rushes down the aisle, waiting as the sliding doors take their time to open in front of him.

When the door finally slides open, he steps into the corridor, only to feel a lithe hand grab the back of his neck and push him forward. He spins around, but is pushed to the floor before he can register what is happening.

The next thing he knows, he is kneeling on the ground, looking up at you, as you press a small gun to his temple.

When did you start using guns?

Tangerine immediately puts his hands up, knowing the only way to diffuse this is to play to your soft side (okay, softer side).

"Hey, hey," he urges you in a charming tone, "I just wanted to talk, sweetheart."

"Yeah?" you challenge, pressing the cold metal harder against his head. "Let's hear it then."

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the soft curls back from his face. "It's been too long, doll. I wanted to catch up, see how you've been."

He can't imagine that any of this is working on you, but he has to try if he's going to finish this mission in one piece.

You smirk, finally taking in Tangerine's kneeling form before you. If your employer had told you that this mission would involve beautiful men on their knees, you would have signed up ages ago.

You met Tangerine six years ago at a job that ended up going completely awry...for him at least. The White Death had sent you to Japan to kidnap the son of one of the remaining Japanese crime families, and when you arrived, Tangerine and Lemon had already been walking him out the front door. They were nothing if not punctual, but back then, that was about the only thing they were good for.

Your weapon of choice had always been tranquilizer darts -- but you never said no to good ol' hand-to-hand combat -- and your lack of real weaponry eventually become a calling card of sorts. Especially because you always made it out alive, and with the job completed to perfection.

That day, Tangerine and Lemon clearly hadn't been expecting anyone, because upon spotting you, they didn't even bother to blink. You had played into their naive mindset and when you got close enough to grab the kid, they were each left with a tranq dart to the neck and a nice, long nap to recover from the shame of losing their asset.

Since then, you have been on opposite sides of many more missions, but the retrieval of this briefcase is the closest encounter you two have had in years.

In your reverie, your gun loosens in your hand and Tangerine must have noticed, because he shoots up, pushing your hand to the side and yanking his gun from his waistband. You aim your weapon at him again, and you are both left pointing your guns at each other, your grip tightening as your heart rate quickens slightly.

"Alright, darling, give me one good reason not to kill you right now?" he threatens, his jaw tightening by a fraction. "You fucked up our entire operation in Bolivia when you knocked out Lemon and got the White Death's men out before we could kill them all."

"Oh, honey, I've done much more than that," you smile, cocking your head to the side. If this was the game he wanted to play, then you would play along, but only as long as he kept it interesting.

"And as for why you shouldn't kill me," you continue, your eyes glinting with amusement. "It's because you need me."

Then, before he can react, you whack the side of his head with your gun and grab the briefcase from his hands. He grunts, clutching his temple, and you use the moment of distraction to dart out of the corridor and down the train cars, sprinting past the passengers and the angry ticket collector.

When you reach the bar compartment, you pull open a random cabinet and stuff the briefcase in a garbage can. It's not a moment too soon, because a second later, Tangerine bursts through the doors, his chest heaving and expression getting more agitated by the minute.

Reaching down, you grab a cocktail shaker and pour in the ingredients laid out on the counter, preparing a drink for yourselves.

"Where the hell is it?" he demands, stalking towards you.

You shrug, fighting the curve of your lips. "You'll get it when I've gotten what I need from you."

Your gun is sitting idly on the counter, so he tucks his own into his waistband and shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side. He starts to roll back his sleeves and you lick your lips as you shake the cocktail.

If nothing else went right on this mission, at least you'd be getting some eye candy for the evening.

Along with all of the times you've screwed up his missions, there have also been a multitude of other close encounters. Whether it was his hand around your throat as you stole his asset right from under him, or his breath against your neck as he snuck up behind you during a stake-out, his presence always entranced you.

Tangerine's seemingly magnetic hold on you has never escaped your notice, but it has also never gotten in the way of you finishing your jobs.

He sees the glint in your eyes, but doesn't say anything, deciding to use it to his advantage.

"Come on, sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, placing his rough hands on the counter in front of you. "Where is the briefcase?"

"Why do you need the case anyway?" you ask him, your eyes imploring his with something akin to genuine curiosity.

"It's the ransom money for the Son of the White Death," he responds honestly, watching your movements carefully as you grab glasses from below the counter.

You seem to ponder this. "Intriguing. On a separate note, how is Lemon these days? I heard they're calling you two the fruit twins now."

Tangerine rolls his eyes, his hands slamming down on the counter as he loses his patience. "He's fucking fantastic. Now where is the case, y/n?"

You don't respond, and instead pour out two drinks before sliding one towards him.

He doesn't bring his lips to the glass until you gulp down your whole drink and even then, he only takes a few sips.

He sees you watch his throat bob and he feels an unfamiliar pleasure at the thought of you finding him attractive.

"Look, Tangerine," you say with a resigned sigh, "I'm not working for the White Death anymore, but I still would like that briefcase. You know, for leverage."

He's not sure how to respond but then you start unbuttoning your blouse and, even after that drink, he feels his mouth go dry. His mind goes blank and he can't formulate any thoughts as your long, smooth neck becomes visible. Only when the first few buttons pop open does he realize that you're showing him your bullet proof vest.

Running a hand down your padded chest, you shoot him an amused look. "In case you try anything stupid." You pause, your hand sliding down your thigh. "Besides, if I remember correctly, you never liked these anyway, did you?"

This time, he anticipates your movements, and when a knife goes flying out of your hand, straight towards his chest, he manages to dodge at the last second, watching as it sinks into the hard back wall of the compartment.

When he turns back around, you're gone.

***

That was a lot closer than you would have liked, and you slink down the train cars, gripping the handle of the briefcase between your fingers.

It feels like everyone's eyes are on you as you walk down the aisle, slipping past the economy cars. When you reach the first class car, you stash the briefcase in the luggage compartment and are about to wait for the next stop to arrive when a man in a white suit takes a seat across from you.

"Can I help yo-" you begin before he cuts you off.

"You will pay for what you did to my family."

"Listen man, I don't know who you are," you try to tell him, but he pulls a massive knife from his belt and you know you can't just sit here any longer.

Swinging your legs out of the seat, you shove him away and grab the laptop of a sleeping woman a few seats over. Using it as a shield, you block a few of his jabs and slices before his knife finally starts to pierce through the metal and glass.

Chucking the laptop at him, you run in the opposite direction, back towards the briefcase, but he's right on your tail.

You push your way into the corridor, but the man grabs you from behind, shoving you forward and slicing down with his knife. The edge grazes your bicep and you wince, but right before you can brace yourself for the next swing, a gunshot rings out from behind you and the man falls to the floor, a shocked look plastered on his face as the life leaves his eyes.

You immediately jerk your head back to see who your savior is, and you admit that you're surprised to see Tangerine lowering his gun.

"Thanks," you gasp out, not wanting to waste another moment. He's tucking his pistol away when you reach towards the luggage to grab the case, but he sees your intentions and acts quickly.

His corded bicep locks around your neck from behind, pulling you back with an extraordinary strength that has you flying off the ground.

You gasp, struggling to breathe, but then you manage to lift your legs and kick out at the wall, pushing the both of you back. His grip loosens slightly, but it's just enough for you to spin around, sending him a kick to the shin that makes him grunt.

Tangerine strikes out at you, his fist narrowly missing your jaw, and you knee him in the groan, making him double over in pain for a few moments.

"That was low," he groans, his face turning red, "even for you, doll."

You chuckle, backing up. "It's a man's world, Tan."

Nevertheless, he's stronger than you remember and he recovers quickly, locking his forearm against your neck and pushing you back into the bathroom. You press up against the wall, facing him, and you can't help the smirk that reappears on your lips.

Well, this is certainly interesting.

"You're better," you huff, your voice straining from the weight of his arm, "than Bolivia, I mean."

You dig your fingers into his hard muscles, trying to pry him off. "You two were absolutely miserable back then, but you've got some chops now."

Tangerine smirks, leaning forward so his breath tickles your nose. "You haven't seen the half of it, darling."

Your eyes dart down to his mouth for a split second, but he's just as fast and he notices your hitched breath. His eyes darken immediately, and before you can utter a word, his mouth is on yours.

His arm lets you go and his large hands grasp at your waist as you press into him, clinging to his body for support in the small bathroom.

His calloused fingers on your skin send a shot of heat down to your core and you bite his lip harshly. He pulls back for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise and lust, and you notice the drop of blood a second before he wipes it away.

Your lips crash together again and he doesn't take his time while grabbing your loosely hanging hair and tugging back, exposing your neck to him. Tangerine licks a line up the column of your throat and your fingers split open his vest and button-down in one go, sending the buttons flying to the floor.

You gasp when he tears off the velcro of your bullet proof best, chucking it to the floor, before kicking the bathroom door closed with a loud click.

Thankfully, your skirt provides him easy access, and he doesn't hesitate before yanking your panties to the side and sticking a thick finger into your pussy. You cry out, your head falling back against the small mirror as he hoists you up onto the sink.

He doesn't warn you before adding another finger, his quick pumps hitting the walls of your cunt with a harsh precision that has you getting close embarrassingly fast.

"Look at you," he smirks, watching your eyes roll back, "whimpering like a school girl from just my fingers."

You are about to finish, and he must feel the tightening of your core, because he pulls away, leaving you impatient and unsatisfied.

"Bastard," you groan as he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your lips.

You suck them into your mouth, and he almost moans at the feeling of your hot tongue around him. When they're clean, he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop and reaches down to undo his buckle.

Tangerine pushes his trousers down to his knees and angles you back before sheathing himself fully inside of you in one movement.

He groans from the wet heat of your cunt and the tightness of you squeezing around him has him gripping the counter for support. He doesn't wait before thrusting up into you at the pace of a bullet train, his rhythm never faltering even as your head falls back in pleasure.

Tangerine leans down and sucks a bruise into your neck, enjoying the way the purple and red blossom against your skin in a delicious mark.

You start to tighten around him and he knows his release is imminent, so he lifts you up off his cock and turns you around so your elbows are on the counter. He starts to fuck you from behind, one hand on your waist while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you to him.

You arch your back, changing the angle in a way that has both of you moaning with pleasure. You come apart a moment later, and he follows close behind, relishing the sound of your whimpering as his body slowly relaxes.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a paper towel to clean you both up, when he hears a light hiss from the ceiling.

He looks up to see a thin green snake slithering down from the vent, its teeth bared and ready. Both of you shriek as the snake shoots down toward Tangerine. He smacks it away and into the toilet, but not before it takes a sharp bite out of his shoulder.

His vision starts to blur and you grab his arms, leaning him back against the counter before you move to open the door.

"Please tell me you spiked those drinks from earlier with the antidote," he groans, his face growing hotter as the venom spreads through his system.

"Well," you whisper, your voice fading as he loses consciousness, "I guess today was your lucky day."

#bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #assassin!reader #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson x reader #fanfic #aaron taylor johnson fanfic

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chaoticloving · 11 months

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the making of stomper

harry styles x reader masterlist

summery: harry has his wife make the feature of his new music video

a/n: reader is described as an engineer and the "flashbacks" are italicized

“Satellite was inspired by my love of Wall-e.” Harry explained. “I love the little guy, looking around in search for his point of life—so human, really.”

“I need your skills.” Harry ambiguously stated, rushing into the bedroom and meeting Y/n who was relaxing on the bed on her laptop.

"Come again?" Y/n laughed, confused by her husbands question and vaguely raunchy implications.

Harry climbs on the bed, sitting between his wife's legs on his sock-clad feet, yes, the pair with holes in them. "I have an idea and I need your help building it."

Harry gave a sweet smile, the face he poses whenever he wants Y/n to build something for him, first it was a new camera, fixing up a new engine for an old car harry had his eyes on, and any other little thing Harry wanted. Y/n never minded of course, she enjoys creating new things and Harry was always there to help by any means he could. She enjoyed working on other things besides work--which at her level typically involved designing, no actual building.

"Intriguing , what is it?"

"Wall-e."

"Wall-e?"

"Wall-e."

"Huh." Y/n thought for a moment, before switching tabs on her laptop and opening up a new design file, labeling it "wall-e". "What's your vision."

"It's to go with Satellite and it would feature a little robot roomba thing thats looking for the meaning of life. It would walk or roll and move it's little face around." Harry summarized, stopping before he rambles too long, and make a list too extravagant.

“I’m down, I just need some time to think about what I’ll need and the process.” Y/n decided.

“Stomper was actually the 6th Stomper.” Harry thought back. “The first couldn’t move its head and only go very slowly on it’s little wheels. Two through four short-circuited. Five got injured by our cat. But six—he was a trooper.”

“Alright, we rolling?” Y/n spoke over to Harry, doing some final looks on the remote and Stomper.

“Yup! Ready for testing!” This was always Harry’s favorite part, despite it not being Y/n’s because she was always very thorough and was always waiting for a flaw with her creation. Harry, ever the optimist, was excited to see the little creature come to life.

“Okay, lemme just turn him on.” It was definitely a he this one, something in Y/n was just telling her it was a boy—as boyish a robot could be. But maybe she just thought the robot would act like Harry and all of his boyish charm.

Stomper grew to life, it’s “eyes” producing a subtle glow.

“Alright and moving forward—“ He moved, a little quicker then the others before him, which Y/n surprised and confused about. “Turning around…” The little robot did just that.

“It works?!” Harry shouted, letting the camera out of focus. He ran up to Y/n and hugged her tight, kissing her wherever his mouth could reach.

“Harry we got to give it more time, he might explode or something-“

“It’s perfect.” Harry chided, ignoring any concern his wife had for the little robot.

“I think Stomper was a subliminal message of some sort—“ Harry told the camera. He held on tight to the small child in this lap, who was trying to grab his ear and hair. “Y/n didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Only about a week after the music video went up Y/n had this epiphany that she didn’t have her period for the past two months—and the rest was history.”

Harry looked down at the little boy in his arms, brown hair showing through and a nose like his daddy’s. His eyes and lips through, were a copy and paste from his Mama.

“I joked that we should name him stomper--Y/n did not like that joke at all—so we settled on something else that will forever remain a mystery for you lot, or until I end up rambling uncontrollably.”

Harry, ever the scared Papa Bear, wouldn’t let anyone get a picture of any sort of the small boy. During the video, the boy was wearing a hat covering his face while Harry’s large hand would cover from the neck up. The only way you could know that Harry’s son was there was from the little grabby hands that kept making an appearance.

“But it’s getting close to this bubs nap time, so thank you for all the love.” Harry turned the camera off, smiling as he know the fans would love the one year special treat.

Harry went upstairs and met with his lovely wife taking a nap in their shared bed. His little boy yawned, causing Harry to yawn, so he knew it was family nap time.

“How’d it go?” Y/n whispered.

“Good.” Harry said, moving around so he could big spoon his son and wife. “Bubs was the star.”

“He takes after you.”

Harry smiled at the comment, but knew the opposite to be true. His little baby was showing signs of intelligence that could only be traced to his wife. “With any luck he’ll turn out just like his mama.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #husband!harry styles #husband!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x fem!reader #husband!harry x reader #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles satellite

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a-small-safe-place · 6 months

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Platonic Yandere Rosalie Hale and Emmett Cullen w/ Adopted!Baby!Reader

Rosalie had traveled to a hospital in a neighboring town to volunteer in the maternity ward. Her motivation wasn't solely selfless; she yearned to be in the presence of infants. Rosalie adored babies for their small size and pure innocence. Occasionally, she'd volunteer in the pediatrics ward, where the sick children often mistook her for a princess due to her beauty. However, on this day, her heart was set on spending time with the babies. It was her favorite pastime, second only to being with Emmett. She would occasionally downplay her attachment when her family questioned her about her frequent visits to the hospital.

As Rosalie left the hospital, an overwhelming urge to cry overcame her, though no tears escaped her eyes. Instead, her venom-filled eyes burned, but she didn't shed a tear. A pang of jealousy gripped her as she thought about how many parents took their children for granted, complaining about the demanding baby and toddler years. Her thoughts drifted to Renesmee, whom she had practically raised during her early, albeit brief, years. However, Rosalie could never be Renesmee's mother, as the girl knew Bella as her mother, despite their strained relationship. Rosalie had even harbored a shameful hope during Renesmee's birth that Bella wouldn't survive, leaving Renesmee to be solely Rosalie's and Emmett's daughter. Yet, fate had different plans, and Rosalie remained without a baby.

Suddenly, a loud cry from an infant in a nearby car disrupted her thoughts. Rosalie couldn't hear the sounds of parents or a running car engine, and the freezing weather made her worry. She exited her car and began searching for the source of the crying, only to discover an infant version of yourself inside a locked car. Your parents were absent, and you were clad only in a thin onesie. Through the window, Rosalie detected the odor of an unchanged diaper.

Rosalie knew she should call the hospital to report the situation, but she feared you would end up back with your neglectful parents. Thoughts of Emmett being a great father crossed her mind; he hadn't been overly involved with Renesmee, except for playtime, but you could be different as their own.

With a swift motion, Rosalie broke into the car, thankful that the alarm didn't sound, given the car's poor condition. She rented a hotel room with you tucked away in her jacket before calling Emmett and sharing her surprise. When he arrived, expecting something else entirely, Rosalie had you dressed in a fresh diaper and cozy footie pajamas. You were notably small and slender, even for a human infant.

Emmett asked, "Babe, what is this?" His tone was a mix of confusion and amusement.

"Our baby," Rosalie declared as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, her eyes fixed on you without interruption. "We don't have a baby," Emmett attempted to argue. He typically went along with what Rosalie said, as she was almost always right, but occasionally he voiced his dissent.

Rosalie's gaze shifted to Emmett. He didn't need to read her mind to grasp that she needed you to be theirs. Without further argument, he sat beside her to get a better look at you. "This is definitely one sweet baby," Emmett observed, running a cold finger down your cheek.

Emmett expressed his concern, "Carlisle will be furious. He might make you return the baby." Rosalie acknowledged this and understood she would face objections from Edward, Carlisle, and possibly even Alice and Jasper. However, she couldn't help but feel it was unfair that Edward could have his human and endanger the family, and then having his daughter, whom he barely appreciated, that also put the family at risk.

"We'll deal with that when the time comes. For now, I want us to be a family: a mommy, a daddy, and a sweet little baby," Rosalie's face lit up when she referred to you. Emmett loved to see his wife so joyful, so he indulged her, understanding why she was so enamored with you.

A few months passed, and you were introduced to the Cullen clan. After some persuasion, Carlisle allowed Rosalie to keep you. The presence of a human infant injected new life into the Cullen household. Rosalie and Emmett spent the most time with you and Rosalie became upset if anyone besides Esme tried to hold you. Edward and Jasper's unique abilities helped discern your needs quickly, even though you couldn't communicate them directly. Jasper secretly enjoyed caring for you without interference from your parents and loved the way Alice dressed you like a doll. Edward and Bella, engrossed in their own activities, didn't show much interest in you. Renesmee, on the other hand, enjoyed having you around, as you allowed her to partake in kid activities she had missed out on. Carlisle and Esme were the perfect grandparents, but nothing could compare to your parents. Emmett and Rosalie adored you. Rosalie was extremely protective and insisted on homeschooling, but she always wanted what was best for you in her mind. You were their angel, and they were determined to protect you from harm.

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radiocrypt-id · 4 months

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Searching For Dapper

A sketch of the local engineer and new father, q!tubbo holding a chainsaw and informing the bird man of lore through whispers. I like to think of the qsmp in game chat as being radios, with full broadcast being channel 1 and other channels being whisper or group channels for chatting privately. maybe one for ooc and meta talk?

I don't typically watch Tubbo but he's a fun lil guy. I saw someone mention he had a habit of holding onto the chainsaw while looking for Dapper and helping Bad. I saw someone else talk about how chainsaws typically are used and I liked the idea of Tubbo running around the island with a constant hum following him as he keeps the chainsaw ready, just in case.

I've never drawn him before. I've seen some people draw him as a goat (??) or a bee/bug (?????) and idk why that is, they're cool tho! I didn't do either here because idk where it comes from, I don't really know much about tubbo in general ^_^" just that he's a friend of Phil, is young and he gets on with tommyinnit, who I also don't really know. they're a bit wild for me lol

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp pomme #qsmp sunny #qsmp fanart #qsmp philza #qsmp tubbo #I will never render this #the sketch took long enough #my favourite part took two seconds and it's the eggs #because of course it is lol #digital art #commission open

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Crossed Wires 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: silverfox!Andy Barber, Cole Turner

Summary: you try to balance your work with your private life as your boss and a new client try to blur the lines. (short!reader)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The gravel mulches loudly under the tires of the truck. You grip the ridged wheel as the seat belt strains against your shoulder. You make yourself sit back, the seat slid up as far as it will go. Still, the bumper shortens your perspective.

You figured you’d get a call to the old Orson place when you heard it sold. That was months ago though and the new owner finally set down roots there. You haven’t seen them, you’ve only heard the whispers that accompany any happening in Hammer Ford; from a new recipe to the juiciest of scandals. You pay much attention to any of it.

You keep your hands at ten and two as you follow the long gravelly drive to the farmhouse facade. There’s a single car parked outside the garage. It’s a sleek white SUV, luxury by the looks of the hood ornament. It’s not what you expect around here. That paint job will be dusty in now time, if not scratched by errant pebbles.

You pull in and shut off the engine. You undo your seat belt and check your watch. Right on schedule. You open the door and step on the rusted step below the door, letting yourself down with a hop. Your tan work boots kick up dirt as you round to the passengers side and swing the door open to retrieve your heavy work bag.

You sling the thick strap over your shoulder and snap the door as you head towards the house. You rest your hand on the side of the bag as you near the steps, searching for any sign of life. The stairs creak as you climb onto the low porch.

“Can I help you?” The deep voice startles you.

You blink and turn to face the man sitting on the wooden boards, bolts and screws around him along with metal parts and wooden boards. You hadn’t seen him through the tight slats of the railing.

You keep your usual vague stare as you sniff, “got a call about the breaker.”

He squints at you, a squiggle forming between his brows. He’s older. His grey hair has a single bolt of its former dirty blond just above his forehead. Despite the heat and the dirt sprinkled over the boards, he wears a pair of dark slacks and a button-up rolled to his elbows.

“You’re the electrician,” he states as he sets aside the small screwdriver in his hand. He stands with a grunt, grasping his knee before he straightens.

“Sure am,” you reply flatly.

“I spoke with a man,” he intones, hands going to his hips as he looks down at you.

“That’s would be my boss. Cole.”

“That’s his name,” he steps forward, wiping his hand on his shirt, staining the light gray fabric, “Andy.”

He offers his hand and you shake it curtly. All the farmers pride themselves on keeping a firm grip and you never faltered with them. He squeezes before he lets you go. He doesn’t have the typical callouses, you even have a few.

“How’d you get into this work?” he wonders.

“It’s work. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t– I don’t mean anything,” he stammers.

“Didn’t think you did,” you sniff, “so, what am I looking at?”

“Well, I don’t really know,” he reaches back to rub his neck. The power keeps… flickering.”

“Ah, been a while, probably just need to wait for it to stabilize. City worker came out months ago for the meters,” you explain.

“Right, well, I heard sizzling.”

“Show me where you heard it.”

He nods and gestures you towards the door. Before you can reach it, he pulls the wooden screen door back and waits for you to enter ahead of him. He tells you it’s just down the hall and stop you near the basement door. You peer down the stairs and flick the light switch. There’s a low buzz.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it,” you look up, “but I can have a look.”

“Oh, okay,” he utters, “I also had another question. You might know something about it.”

You look at him. He seems put off by your expressionless stare.

“I wanted to install an automatic opener in the garage…”

“I can do the wiring, sure, long as you buy the parts,” you answer. “I can give you recommendations, odds are, you’ll need a whole new door as well.”

“Sure,” he agrees uneasily.

“Can schedule an appointment when you decide,” you turn your palm out, “I’ll just go grab my ladder and have a look then.”

You go to step past him but he’s not quick enough. You nearly collide and find yourself moving back and forth with him, trying to get by. You stop and stare. He stills himself and turns sideways, waving you by. You pass and let out a slow breath through your nose.

You stalk back down the hall and onto the porch. You hear him following you. You come down the steps as he continues his close pursuit. You don’t exactly know what he’s doing but you won’t ask. Cole says you need to work on customer service and not tell people to get out of your way.

You go around the bed of the truck and open the back. You reach for the ladder but another arm stretches further and faster. He pulls the ladder out before you can and you step back with a grunt.

“Hey, I can get it,” you insist.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind helping.”

“So why am I here?” You ask curtly, immediately knowing you asked a bad question.

“Sorry, I was just… being nice,” he says.

“Right,” you try to soften your tone, “it’s just… it’s my job. I can carry the ladder.”

“I know you can,” he looks down at you and you feel even smaller. You don’t like it when they try to play gentleman, it’s condescending. You might be short but you’re strong enough.

“Thanks,” you grab the ladder and yank it from his grasp.

He lets go and you continue past him. He huffs and follows a few paces back from the end of the ladder. You angle it up the steps.

“At least let me get the door,” he inches past you, “okay?”

“Thanks,” you repeat in the same even keel.

You enter and take the ladder down the hall. He hovers just down the hallway, watching as he shifts his weight between his feet. He’s the worst kind of customer, the kind that have to supervise.

You step up the ladder and look past it. “Mind holding it?”

“You sure?” He gives a trite arch of his brow.

You blink and keep your eyes from rolling, “I’d appreciate it, sir.”

He comes forward and braces the ladder staunchly. You climb up and suppress a snarl. City folk think you’re all backwards out here but they can’t wrap their damn head around a woman with a brain.

#andy barber #cole turner #dark andy barber #dark cole turner #dark!andy barber #dark!cole turner #cole turner x reader #andy barber x reader #drabble #backwoods au #au #crossed wires #defending jacob #series #ghosted

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narnian-neverlander · 11 months

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In Whatever Way [Adam Warlock x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: When he unknowingly tests your patience, you snap at Adam and say something you immediately regret.

Word Count: 5,1k

Warnings: Guardians 3 spoilers, talk about canon typical violence, cursing, slight injury & mention of blood, bit of angst, hurt & comfort, idiots in love, author being a sucker for the ‘oh. oh.’ moment of realization trope

A/N: Kind of a follow up to this one, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone

I have exactly one complaint and that’s Adam not having Will’s freckles (for obvious bodypaint reasons), so I went ahead and fixed that 💁

If someone had told you a year ago that a Sovereign would become your favorite person in the galaxy, you would’ve laughed in their face and then put a bullet in between their eyes for good measure. But life’s got a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

That first night after the defeat of the High Evolutionary, it’d been way too messy and hectic to find Adam a place of his own, so you’d dropped him off at your tiny apartment, very specifically told him to stay put and to not touch anything, and then headed out again in search of food and some clothes. You’d found those, but alongside them, you’d also found the furry F’Saki Adam had basically adopted. He’d looked about as lost as his owner, so you’d tucked the little guy under your arm and had taken him with you. Arriving back at your home, you’d discovered Adam curled up on your bed, fast asleep. The F’Saki had immediately scurried out from your grasp, made himself comfortable at Adam’s legs and had started snoring almost right after. You’d stood in the middle of your room, still in your dirty, torn uniform and bone tired, a young Sovereign and his pet passed out on your bed and had actually stopped to wonder how on earth your life had gotten to that point.

Not seeing a reason for staying any longer, you’d decided you might as well go out and get blissfully blackout drunk with your friends. Leaving a note with the change of clothes and food, you’d turned towards the entrance to find Nebula standing in your doorway. She’d scanned the situation she’d walked in on very carefully and then had simply raised slender, judgmental brows at you. You’d shooed her out, gently closing the door behind you, and had reminded her that ‘Adopting strays that’ve tried to kill us is kinda our thing; didn’t think I’d need to tell you of all people.’

Ever since that night, Adam had been virtually glued to your side. It’d been a bit strange and uncomfortable at first; you weren’t used to always having company, much less that of a Sovereign. There’d most definitely been an adjustment period with quite a few mishaps, one of which had ended with him in the med-bay with a bloody nose after he’d scared the ever living daylights out of you while you’d been testing the upgrades Rocket had made to your gauntlets - you’d apologized profusely for the rest of that day. Over time though, it had become apparent that he meant you no harm, nor did he have any ill will, he simply wished to repay the kindness you’d shown him when he’d felt he had no one looking out for him anymore.

And despite the fact that his golden skin and hair, his engineered-to-be-perfect face and body and his manner of speaking reminded you of his heritage everyday, you’d found it increasingly easy to ignore the fact that he was part of the species responsible for so much pain in your life. Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to hold him accountable for actions committed by his people long before he was even born. But it wasn’t just that, Adam was simply… different from the rest of the Sovereign. He might’ve been created to be perfect, but he was far from it: He was only just understanding his own limits, landing him in situations that had him in over his head more often than not. He could be arrogant and quick to anger over the smallest details. He only liked learning things if they came to him easy, but grumpily and quickly dropped the ones that didn’t. But there was always an underlying innocent curiosity and kindness in his actions; in the way he’d so effortlessly bonded with the rescued animals he was now taking care of. In the way he always immediately offered assistance, no matter how menial the task. In the way he’d taken such an interest in any and all earth things, simply because they held special meaning to you. In the few months since he’d come into your life, he’d captivated you so completely, had gotten you to care for him so deeply and truly, it even shocked yourself at times still. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

There is however still one topic of conversation that never seems to get easier and that’s his late mother, Ayesha. High priestess and figurehead of the crusade against your kind; all because of shapeshifting abilities you never even asked for. You’re very well aware of the fact that, before he became a part of the Guardians, she was the only family Adam had. That he’d cared for her very much, he still does, it’s obvious in the way he talks about her. And usually you let him talk, for his sake; to let him grieve by sharing stories about the loved one he lost. But today’s been exhausting, to say the least. You’ve been up since the crack of dawn and nothing seems to work out the way it’s supposed to. At the moment, you’re down somewhere in the bowels of Knowhere, courtesy of a broken filtration system. And since your resident genius raccoon mechanic is off world with Groot and you aren’t half bad with machines, the honor of trying to fix it had gone to you. You’d been down there for hours now, though, and aren’t making any real progress. Adam had joined you a little while back, and while you usually welcome his company, he’s picked a particularly bad day to select his mother as a topic of conversation. Your nerves are frayed, your patience running thin, but you hold your tongue, choosing to only answer in occasional hums of acknowledgement to confirm that you’re listening. That works out just fine right up until the moment he says “You remind of her, actually.”

The wrench you’re currently using almost slips from your sweaty palms as you bristle and hiss “Don’t ever say that again.” His answer is immediate and while you’re not looking at him, you can hear the genuine confusion in his voice. “Why not? It’s the truth.” The more rational part of you knows he means it as a compliment - but that part seems to have taken the day off. You swallow the rising bile in your throat before you reply with “I am nothing like that vile woman. Don’t compare me to her again, do you understand?” You’ve quite obviously hit a nerve, as you hear him rise from his seated position on some debris and when he speaks again the confusion in his voice has given way to anger. “My mother was not vile, take that back!”

You mumble “Maybe not to you…” more to yourself than anything else as you busy yourself with the repairs, absolutely not in the mood for this conversation, but he hears anyways. “I don’t care what you might think of her; she loved me!” A bark of laughter escapes you before you can stop it, bitter and cruel. “Please, maybe she loved what you were supposed to be; the ultimate weapon, the next step in their precious perfect evolution, but you failed that spectacularly. And even that’s pushing it!” The bolt you’ve been trying to loosen seems to have gotten stuck even worse as you aggressively throw your whole weight down on the wrench’s handle, any and all social courtesies you’ve kept up around Adam in regards to this particular topic going right out the window. “But don’t take that personally; Sovereign just aren’t capable of love, it’s as simple as - FUCK!!” The bolt finally gives way, sending you face first into one of the pipes of the machinery. Pulling back with a pained hiss, you bring a hand to your throbbing forehead and let out a few more curses when it comes away bloody.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Two deep, slow breaths it takes for you to calm down. It takes two more for realization to hit and the regret that comes with it threatens to choke you on the spot. Adam’s gone deathly quiet and you’d honestly prefer if he lost his temper with you; that you could handle at least. You’re terrified of what you’ll find when you turn around, so you do so slowly and immediately wish you hadn’t at all.

Adam’s an awful liar; he wears his heart on his sleeve and his emotions always plain on his face for everyone to read. And right now? Even on that first night, when he’d been injured, scared and all alone, you don’t think he’d looked so completely and utterly heartbroken. His name has barely left your lips in a desperate plea when he turns and takes off, the golden glow of his powers vanishing around a corner and completely out of sight not a second later. There’s no point in going after him right now, you know that, he’s stubborn, especially when he’s upset - not that that helps you feel better about yourself in any capacity; you well and truly want to throw yourself out of the nearest airlock. With a heavy sigh, you pick up the discarded wrench from the floor, deciding to give the young Sovereign some space and quickly, haphazardly finish with your work instead.

By the time you leave the med-bay, a bandaid now covering the wound on your forehead, it’s been a good hour or two, so you make your way to Adam’s apartment, hesitantly knocking on the door. When there’s no answer, you peek through one of the small windows, but the room is empty except for Blurp curled up on the bed, snoring contently. You check the cantina next, then the complex where the animals had been set up. You check in with Kraglin and Cosmo, Drax and Phyla, and basically any residents of Knowhere that you come across - no one has seen the golden man since he went off to help you. Your search eventually brings you to the spaceport, where you find the Bowie freshly docked, Groot carrying crates down the loading ramp, Rocket on his shoulders. Considering you were running out of places to check that were actually on Knowhere and Adam didn’t need oxygen like the rest of you, you figure you might as well ask if they’d seen him somewhere in the general vicinity of the giant head while coming back.

“Rocket, have you seen Adam?” the question’s out of your mouth before you’ve even properly reached them and your furry friend doesn’t bother to look up from the data pad he’s studying as he scoffs “Nice to see you, too, (y/n). Yeah, me and Groot are fine, mission went great, thanks for asking; always touching to come home to such a warm welcome.” Mumbling out an apology you only half mean, you cross your arms over your chest and look at him expectantly. When he realizes you’re not gonna go away, he hooks the pad to his belt with a groan and looks at you, one elbow propped up against Groot’s head. “How the flarg would I know? Goldie’s attached to your hip, not mine.” You don’t wanna have to get into details right now, so you settle for “Usually, sure. But I messed up, he ran off and now I can’t find him.” Rocket snorts, clearly not buying it. “The guy looks at you like you hung the friggin’ stars in the sky, what could you of all people have possibly done to piss him off that bad?” Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you avoid eye contact with him and busy yourself with a loose thread on your shirt instead. Details it is after all. “I… might’ve insulted his mother and told him I don’t believe Sovereign are capable of love.” The quiet lasts for all of half a second before Rocket starts cackling so hard, he goes tumbling off of Groot’s shoulders and ends up on the ground; clutching his stomach he’s almost howling in laughter and it makes heat shoot up to your face in both embarrassment and anger as you stomp your foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Rocket this isn’t funny!!”

The raccoon struggles to his feet, one paw still on his knee as the other wipes at his eyes. “You’re right; it’s not. It’s hysterical! I mean… if that’s how you talk to a guy you’re actually into, I’d hate to see how you treat the ones you don’t like.” Brows furrowing in bewilderment, the complete change of topic makes you fumble for a moment as you ask “What… what the hell is that supposed to mean?” All traces of amusement vanish from Rocket’s face, jaw going slack as he stares at you and realizes you’re serious. He lets out a low whistle before he states “Wow. And here I thought the golden boy was clueless. At least he’s got some excuse, he ain’t been around the galaxy for all that long, but you? You can’t be for real.” You’re very quickly growing very tired of this conversation, so with a huff, you throw your hands up in exasperation. “Rocket, are you gonna stand here and give me riddles for the rest of the day or are you gonna help me?” Said help comes from the tree that’s been busy unloading the ship up until now. “I am Groot.” Your head snaps towards your teammate at the insinuation. “What tracker?” Now it’s Rocket’s turn to look embarrassed, a disappointed sigh and a long, drawn out version of his name leaving your lips. “I thought we talked about this ages ago; you can’t go putting trackers on people without their consent!” He doesn’t seem all that bothered by your outburst as he mocks “Oh boo hoo, y’all constantly whine about that right up until the moment it benefits you - like right now!” But he goes digging through one of the pockets on his belt anyway and holds out the small device he finds to you. Your anger more or less evaporates as you are yet again reminded that Rocket does care, in his own way. You kneel down to his level, take the tracker and give him a hug as you thank him - and just for good measure, press a long, disgusting kiss to his furry cheek as payback for laughing at your predicament. He scrambles out of your hold in obvious discomfort, gagging noises accompanying you as you take your leave, but as usual, he needs to have the last word, shouting “Save the smooches for Goldilocks!!” at your retreating figure.

Not even ten minutes later, you’re looking up at one of the tallest buildings in Knowhere. It’s an old, dilapidated communications tower that is long overdue for demolition; it’s all rusted metal and broken off, jagged edges, entirely impossible to climb without flight capabilities. Out of options, you helplessly check the tracker once more just to make sure that, yes, unfortunately he’s really up there, Rocket’s tech could be trusted on that and squinting up at the top you’re almost sure you see a glimmer of gold. You pocket the device with a shaky inhale and cup your hands around your mouth. “Adam!” you shout, even though you don’t really need to; he’s got enhanced senses, you’re certain he’d be able to hear you even if you whispered. “Adam, I know you’re up there, can you please come down?” Five seconds pass. Then ten. Then thirty. Nothing. “Listen, I know I messed up and I know you’re upset, but this isn’t gonna just go away, we need to talk about it!” A full minute of silence passes this time, dread and anxiety weighing down your shoulders more and more with each second that ticks by. When you speak again, you’re worried about your voice breaking, so it does come out as a whisper this time. “Adam, please. At least give me a chance to fix this.” Head hung low, you run both hands through your hair and over your face with an annoyed groan, upset with both his stubbornness and with yourself for having caused this mess in the first place. Thinking your attempt at a conciliation lost, you turn to leave and almost fall flat on your ass in shock when you find Adam standing there, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at you. “I do not wish to speak with you.”

“And you don’t have to, you just… have to listen for a moment, alright?” It takes him a few long, agonizing seconds to begrudgingly nod and you let out a relieved breath. Despite the hours you’d just spent searching for him, carefully laying out what you wanted to say, you’re drawing a blank at this very moment, but you try anyways. “Okay, look… I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I truly am.” When he scoffs in disbelief you reach for his hand, only to have him pull away, making your heart sink. Ever since he’d started experiencing things for himself and figuring out his likes and dislikes, it’d become clear quite quickly that Adam enjoyed physical affection, especially when you were the one to initiate it. He’d never turned it down - until now. How badly had you messed up?

“I mean that, Adam. It’s just that… I know Ayesha was your family and you miss her, but the person you knew her to be and the person I knew her to be are… quite contrasting. And I honestly don’t think there’s a way for me to reconcile both views with each other. I’ve let you talk about her because it seemed to make you happy, but you have to understand that it’s hard for me to hear praises about a person who was directly responsible for so much suffering and pain in my life. However, I also know that my experiences and rage… blind me, to a certain degree; lumping together all Sovereign isn’t fair, cause everybody’s their own person and can make their own choices, you’ve proven that.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, but he stays quiet and avoids looking at you all the same. You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat before you continue speaking. “Be that as it may, I also want you to know that you don’t have to accept my apology if you don’t want to.” His eyes are on you in a second and the hopeful tone in his voice when he says ‘I don’t?’ threatens to split your heart in two. “No, you don’t. I’m apologizing because it’s the right thing to do and because I feel absolutely awful about having hurt someone I care so much about. But if you feel that I’ve crossed a line, then…” Clearing your throat to keep your voice from breaking, you feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Then you’re under no obligation to accept it for my sake and I’ll have to live with that. I’ll give you some time to think about it.” Brushing past him, calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you leave, considering that’s just about all the emotional toll you’ll be able to take today.

A pillow tightly clutched to your chest, you’re curled up in bed not much later, tears still fresh on your cheeks. Honestly, you’re not sure why exactly you’re even crying. Because you’re sad at the prospect of having lost a friend? Because, despite of what you said, you wish he’d been less stubborn and just accepted your apology? Because you’re frustrated with yourself over how close you’d allowed the two of you to grow in the first place? It really doesn’t make sense to you. It had taken years for the rest of the Guardians to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself so that they could squeeze inside, but Adam? A few months was all it had taken for him to get under your skin. For you to look forward to spending time with him everyday. For his laugh to become your favorite sound. For —

Your train of thought gets stopped dead in it’s tracks by a soft knock on your door, immediately followed by the scratching of tiny claws and an all too familiar whine. Wiping your palms over your eyes to get rid of the rest of the wetness staining your face, you scramble out of bed and make your way towards the entrance of your apartment. As expected, you find Adam and Blurp on the other side, the F’Saki slipping inside like he owns the place as soon as he’s able. He makes himself comfortable on the foot of your bed and looks at both of you expectantly, all bright eyes and perked ears. A setup like this normally means movie night, a little tradition you’d started to help Adam get a hold on as many customs as possible while still having fun and not actually throwing him into social interactions that would make everybody involved uncomfortable. For all intents and purposes, with the dim lighting in your room, the messy bed and Adam on your doorstep in his usual sleeping getup of sweatpants and a tank top, it does look like that’s what’s about to happen, you can’t blame the little guy for misinterpreting. Dragging your gaze back to the golden man at your doorstep, you’re surprised to find he doesn’t look half as exhausted as you feel. Matter of fact, this is the calmest and most determined you’ve seen him all day.

“May I come in?” You step aside to let him, gently closing the door behind you both with a quiet click. “I’ve thought about what you told me earlier and I think I’ve come to a conclusion on what I must do.” Dreading what comes out of his mouth next, you can’t seem to muster up the strength to look at him and keep your eyes downcast, only for his hands to enter your field of view and grab hold of your own. “I need to apologize to you.” Your head snaps up to find that he’s completely serious and barely manage to stutter out an incredibly intelligent ‘Huh?’

Adam lightly squeezes your hands when he continues. “Up until you pointed it out, it never occurred to me how the topic of my mother, my people might make you feel. Unintentional or not, my actions hurt someone I care about and I don’t like how it makes me feel. Apologizing is what I should do in that case, correct?” You wrangle with yourself for a second, but then squeeze back gratefully. “Yes, that’s right, and I’m thankful that’s the conclusion you came to, but… Adam, you couldn’t have known. I never said anything about it, instead I let my negative emotions fester and grow until I couldn’t take it anymore and it all came out in the worst way possible. If anything, we’re both a little to blame for this.” Pausing to take a deep breath, you continue with the question you really want answered, even though you’ve got a pretty good idea already. “So… does that mean we’re okay? You’re not upset with me and want me out of your life?” You watch his eyes grow wide in shock and his hands move up to your shoulders to settle there with a firm grip. “Is that what you were afraid of? Why you’ve been crying?” Shrugging as best as you can, you mumble “Kind of? You seemed so angry with me, I just thought I’d crossed a line there was no coming back from and it made me sad, so—“ The sentence stays unfinished as Adam envelops you in a bone crushing hug, even lifting you off the ground a little.

“(y/n), you’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I came into this world and I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like without you in it.” he says, face buried in the crook of your neck and you’re glad for it as you feel heat rising all the way to the top of your ears. Hugging him back just as tight, you reply “I don’t want to think about my life without you in it anymore, either.” Content just being in each other’s arms, you stay like that for a bit, until he breaks the comfortable silence with a quiet call of your name as he carefully puts you back on your feet, to which you respond with a hum of acknowledgment. “Do you really think me incapable of love?” And just like that, the feeling of wanting to throw yourself out an airlock returns; frantically stringing together the word ‘No!’ about ten times as you pull back to properly look at him. “No, of course I don’t, that was just… When people are angry, they’ll sometimes say and do things they don’t actually mean. But I swear I don’t think that about you, how could I? You’re proving the opposite every day.”

“I am?” he questions, brows furrowed, confusion and doubt clear as day and you can’t help but laugh softly as you go to cup his handsome face between your palms. “Oh my sweet Adam, do you really not see it?” Bringing his own hands to lightly hold your wrists, he sighs. “I wasn’t created to love. I was created to kill. To destroy. To bring pain and misery. So when you said that, I was… I am scared you might be right.” Gently running your thumbs over his cheeks, you simply look at your golden boy for a mere moment. The last rays of the artificial sunlight filtering in through your blinds cast him in a beautiful glow; eyes warm like honey, skin glittering like stars and the pattern of slightly darker golden, coppery spots over his nose and cheeks, an imperfection akin to freckles you’re still surprised they let him keep, all the more prominent. Of course he’s capable of love, he has to be. Surely, you wouldn’t fall for someone who wouldn’t be able to—

Oh.

So that’s what that prick of a raccoon had been talking about. With the benefit of hindsight, it honestly baffles you it had taken this long for the other shoe to drop. Adam calling your name is what kicks your brain back into functioning after that epiphany; you blink and shake your head a little before responding. “Sorry, I was just… never mind. Do you… do you really not see how your everyday actions show love?” His eyes flick between yours as he considers your words and then settles on “I’m… not entirely certain what love is supposed to look or feel like.”

“Oh dear, uhm…” you’re unsure if you’ll be able to explain that to him properly, but you’ll be damned if you don’t at least try. “Well… there’s many different forms of love. All similar, but slightly different in some ways. But overall it’s… to deeply care for another being, I guess? When being with them brings you joy? When you want to see them safe and happy? And even though you might wish for that happiness to be with you, it’ll be fine if it’s not cause they matter more to you than yourself.” Your hands have wandered to the base of his neck, fingers buried in the short hair as he cocks his head to the side in thought. “Like you and the rest of the Guardians let Peter Quill and Mantis go on their own paths even though it made you sad to see them go?” Grinning, you nod in confirmation. “Exactly. And the way you took it upon yourself to take care of the animals we saved? The way you adopted Blurp, in spite of what your mother wanted, cause you felt he was sad and lonely? How you went out of your way to make sure I felt comfortable around you? All of that means you care. All of that are ways of showing love.” It’s obvious he’s trying real hard to comprehend everything you’ve just explained to him, but it a lot, so you continue with “Love is one of the most simple and basic emotions in most beings. But navigating it and differentiating between it’s different forms can be difficult - for everyone. There’s no rush though, you can take all the time in the world to figure it all out for yourself. I promise you have nothing to worry about, you’re perfectly fine, okay?”

Adam brings one of his hands from your waist up to cup your cheek and smiles when you lean into his touch. This is what he’d been trying to tell you earlier, when he’d compared you to his mother: He trusts you completely, your judgement, too. You make him feel at peace like no one else in the universe. “Okay.” he replies and you return his smile, just barely containing the urge to pepper kisses over his pretty face and -

Yeah you’re gonna have to deal with this particular mess of emotions sooner rather than later.

The tender moment gets interrupted by Blurp whining at you two, impatiently hopping from one paw to another on the foot of your bed. “It would appear Blurp insists on a movie night. If you feel like it?” you chuckle and Adam happily agrees. So you set up everything as usual and settle on a lighthearted family comedy to watch. But the day’s been long, exhausting and emotionally draining; try as you might your eyes keep drifting shut and you’re out cold ten minutes into the movie.

The golden man jumps a bit when there’s a slight thump against his shoulder, only to find you fast asleep. His focus now on you instead of the movie, tender fingers ghosting over the bandaid on your forehead in concern, he thinks about what you’ve just told him. About what love was supposed to feel like and it dawns on him that yes, the warmth that spreads through his chest all the way down to his feet when you do as little as smile at him must be love. And yet when he’s with you it’s… different from what it felt like to be with his mother or to be with Blurp or the rest of the Guardians. It irks him to not be able to properly discern what makes you special; you’d said there were different forms of love, but how was he supposed to understand the difference?

As you curl into his side more, one arm coming across his chest to hug him and his name subconsciously falling from your lips in a barely audible, sleepy mumble, he realizes it doesn’t matter, nor does he really care, at least not right this moment. For now, it’s enough for him to be certain of the fact that he loves you and you love him - in whatever way.

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #gn reader #adam warlock #gotg vol 3 #adam warlock fluff #idiots in love #angst #hurt/comfort #guardians of the galaxy #mcu #will poulter #my writing

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starrydixon · 1 year

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Happily Ever After

*Requested from this ask :)*

Era: Alexandria (Post-Negan) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: none! just pure fluff!!

Summary: Dedicating a day out behind the walls of Alexandria, Daryl takes you for a ride on his bike as he leads you towards a special place in the woods. There, he intends to ask you a very important question.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this; happy, giddy, and relaxed. You supposed it was during the time spent in the prison back in Georgia, but those feelings of content were fleeting due to the fear that the Governor could seek vengeance at any moment. Now, after months on the road, countless losses of people you saw as family, fighting in brutal wars, and not knowing if you’d make it to see another day, you finally felt peace.

Sure, you owed it to Alexandria’s protective walls and supportive community, but Daryl also had a huge contribution as well. The two of you have been dating for a little over a year now, but have known each other since the beginning of the apocalypse back at the Georgia quarry. Unknown to you, at the time, your romantic connection with the archer began to kindle during the weeks spent on the Greene’s family farm. After the farm fell and the harsh winter began, you then began to recognize that the feelings you felt for the archer exceeded past platonic. It was scary at first, having romantic feelings for someone as stoic and unreadable as Daryl, but you grew comfortable with your revelations the closer you two became. A week before the prison was found, you two had finally stopped dancing around those harboring feelings and kissed for the first time. Ever since then, you and Daryl have been in a loving relationship that you cherished so deeply.

Now, you were sat on the back of Daryl’s bike with your arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Wispy strands of baby hair blew around your face as gusts of winds whipped past you. With your chin resting on Daryl’s shoulder, the ends of Daryl’s hair occasionally got in your face, tickling your skin so much, you often found yourself you found yourself nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck in an effort to conceal the school-girl-like giggles from escaping past your lips.

You hadn’t been able to stop beaming since the moment Daryl informed you the previous night that he would be taking you outside of the walls for the day. It had been a while since you and Daryl went on an excursion together, since your individual duties around the growing community had been keeping you both busy. Just the idea of being able to spend some quality time with Daryl had sent you over the moon. The moment you awoke that morning, you’ve been bustling around your shared home; searching for supplies to pack for the journey and for the picnic that the two of you would enjoy later that day. Picnics were always a staple activity whenever you and Daryl went on a date. Although the archer never explicitly called the excursions you’d share together dates, you always got the unspoken message.

Unbeknownst to you, Daryl’s plans for today exceeded far beyond the typical date. If his courage didn’t defy him, he planned on finally giving you the diamond ring that has been burning a hole in the pocket of his vest for the past few months.

“Are we almost there yet!?” You shouted over the rumbling engine of the motorcycle while peering over Daryl’s shoulder in order to get a proper glimpse of his face. You had no idea where the archer was taking you, so the excitement coursing through your veins was making it hard to remain patient.

“Thought I told ya to quit askin’ every five minutes?” Daryl stated from over his shoulder. Although he tried to suppress it, you could see a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth.

“I waited six minutes this time!” You grinned proudly as you tightened your arms around the archer’s frame. With a slight shake of his head, a lighthearted scoff escaped past his lips. Daryl had a hard time not finding your eagerness endearing.

Tightening his hands around the handlebars of the bike, Daryl picked up speed. An uncontrollable squeal fell from your lips as your body jolted forwards, colliding into Daryl’s strong back. Although your hearing was deafened due to the loud engine that powered the bike, you could feel Daryl’s back vibrate with goading laughter. The scenery around you became even more blurry and dizzying as you sped down the deserted road; you had to squeeze your eyes shut to avoid getting a headache. Instinctively, your hold around Daryl’s strong frame tightened.

Less than ten minutes later, Daryl had pulled up to a small opening that led into the forest. With your help, the two of you covered the bike with leaves and loose shrubbery in order to hide it from any potential onlookers. After a little bit of bickering, you allowed Daryl to take the wicker basket that was packed full of all the essential picnic necessities you would need in order to have a successful picnic. Lacing your fingers with Daryl’s you two began to follow along a dirt trail.

“Did you make this trail yourself?” You asked once you noticed how new the upturned dirt seemed. Daryl hummed in confirmation and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s the clearest section of woods around…figured I’d put a trail here for huntin’ and stuff.” The archer shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

“Oh, so it’s not for taking your girlfriend on romantic strolls?” You teased lightheartedly as you wrapped your arm around Daryl so you were hugging his arm. Daryl just scoffed and gently shook you with the arm you were holding.

“Keep that up, and I’ll take ya to the swamps instead.”

Your face scrunched up at the thought of eating your sandwich with mosquitoes swarming around your face and biting into your skin every ten seconds. It wouldn’t be the first time the archer purposely led you to a swamp as a means of being mischievous with you during one of your outings. You supposed that was his unique way of being playful with you. Preferring to be safe than sorry, you didn’t tease the archer any further. You knew Daryl was extremely capable and willing to act out on his taunt.

With your head resting comfortably on the side of his shoulder, you and Daryl continued to follow the trail that led to whatever destination Daryl had in mind. As a child, you enjoyed exploring through the woods that sat in your backyard; pretending to be in mystical worlds or an explorer who was on the verge of finding her next discovery. Once you hit your teenage years, those days spent in the woods and finding solace in the natural beauty the forest provided was gone. Once you met Daryl and began accompanying him on his hunting trips, it reignited the love you once had with nature.

As you enjoyed listening and watching the way nature moved around you, vibrant colors caught the corner of your eye. Intrigued, you stopped in your tracks and turned to get a better look at what had grabbed your attention.

“Oh!” You couldn’t help but gasp in delight as you viewed a patch of assorted wildflowers that was diverted from the dirt path only a few feet away.

At first, Daryl thought you had spotted a walker, or maybe some people due to the unidentifiable surprise in your voice. Instinctively, he grabbed the strap of his crossbow, ready to protect you from the potential threat. With a deep sigh and a curse spouting from under his breath, the archer relaxed as he watched you practically leap towards the patch of flowers. Your clasped hands were held against your chest and your smile only seemed to widen as you observed the flowers. Carefully, you knelt down and picked a few different wildflowers from the patch. Satisfied with your small collection, you hid the bouquet behind your back and skipped back over to Daryl, who had his free hand resting on his hip as he waited for you.

“We’re burnin’ daylight y’know.”

With a smile so bright and charming that never failed to make Daryl’s knees go weak and heart skip a few beats, you removed your hands from behind your back and presented the flowers to him. One of the archer’s eyebrows quirked upwards towards his hairline as he stared down at the floral arrangement. Bringing his gaze back up towards you, his head tilted to the side slightly.

“Are these for…me?”

All you could do was nod your head excitedly while bouncing on the balls of your feet. You always enjoyed doing sweet and, as Daryl called it, rather corny romantic gestures for the archer. Daryl gave you happiness every single day; just being able to wake up beside him was enough to give you joy. Daryl deserved so much love and appreciation, and you thought he could never get enough of it. It was little things, like picking his favorite fruit from the garden, finding cheesy cards about love from souvenir shops whenever you went on runs, or setting up romantic dinner dates with candles and low music playing in the background. It always surprised him, without fail, whenever you did something sweet for him. This time was no different.

Dropping the picnic basket from his hand in shock, you watched as the tips of Daryl’s ears and the apples of his cheeks began to tint pink. In an attempt to conceal his flustering, Daryl covered his face with his hands. Your laugh was light and filled with joy as you reacted to Daryl’s heartwarming reaction that never got tiresome to witness.

“Ya didn’t…ya didn’t have to do this.” Daryl spoke bashfully as he removed his hands from his face and shook his head a little in disbelief, which caused his bangs to curtain over his eyes.

“I know, but I wanted to.”

Gently, Daryl took the flowers from your grasp and held them a bit awkwardly in his hands; unsure what to do with them now that they were in his possession. “Uh-I ain’t too sure what to do with ‘em…never been given flower ‘fore.”

You laughed again and shrugged your shoulders loosely. “You can do whatever you want. They’re yours now.”

For a moment, the archer couldn’t help but admire you. The placement of the sun caused an angelic glow to frame your figure, and your eyes were shining like stars. He always saw you as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but this moment just proved him right. Picking a pale pink flower from the bouquet that was gripped tightly in his hand, Daryl cleared his throat and shuffled closer to you before tentatively placing the flower behind your ear.

Heat rushed to your face, and it was your turn to become a flustering mess.

Wordlessly, you expressed your gratitude for the sweet gesture by placing a kiss on Daryl’s cheek. A boyish smile spread across his lips as you placed your arms around Daryl’s again. Content with the feeling of warmth spreading across your chest and up your neck to your face, you and Daryl continued down the dirt trail.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at your destination. Shooting a shy glance your way, Daryl nudged his chin towards the shrubbery that concealed whatever place Daryl wanted to show you. Although you trusted Daryl with your life, you were still a bit nervous about what was about to greet you on the other side. Tentatively, you pushed back the lush and overgrown foliage and stepped through the branches.

You felt like you had stepped into a fairytale, much like the ones you often imagined as a child whenever you played in the bleak woods of your backyard. The clearing you were met with seemed enchanted, like the specific spot had been put under a spell to preserve its natural beauty. Visible sun rays shone through the trees making the entire space radiate. Fallen tree trunks that looked strong and non-decomposed laid in the dense and rich greenery that covered the forest terrain. Birds could be heard singing and communicating with one another from the tops of the trees. Even the buzzing sounds of the insects that lived on the plants and flew in the air sounded hypnotizing. As you spun around to take in your surroundings, you even noticed a few mossy vines hanging off of a few tree branches.

“Daryl…” You trailed off in awe, unable to hide the gawk that took over your face. Daryl couldn’t decipher your reaction, so the growing unease began to make his palms sweaty and his blood pressure rise. If he misjudged his choice of scenery, then the rest of his plans for the day would be up in flames.

“Listen…if ya don’t like this spot, I can find another one. It-uh-ain’t a problem.”

Hearing the nerves and uncertainty in his voice made you instantly shake your head as you struggled to find the right words to express how truly awestruck you were. With the type of relationship and connection that you had with Daryl, there was never a sense of having to explicitly state how you felt about things. Most of the time, you could share a look or read between the lines in order to understand what the other was trying to convey. As words failed you, you decided to tell Daryl how much you enjoyed this spot by throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

The archer had nearly toppled over by the unexpected reaction. It was welcomed though, and he found himself snaking his arms around your waist and letting his chin rest on your shoulder. When you pulled away just enough to get a proper glimpse of his handsome face, tears had welled up in your eyes, and your nose was on the verge of dripping. Instinctively, Daryl cupped each side of your face and let both his thumbs rest on your cheeks. His eyes flitted between yours, searching for any sign of disdain. When all he found was genuinely lighting up your eyes, he allowed himself to relax.

Your eyes fluttered shut as Daryl placed a gentle, but meaningful kiss on your lips. For a moment, it brought you back to that spring morning when you and Daryl shared your first ever kiss. When your eyes opened again, they were met with the sight of Daryl’s lopsided smile and unique shade of blue eyes that were so bright, they lightened up his entire face.

“C’mon…I’m gettin’ hungry.”

After gathering a few stones from off the green terrain, you placed the rocks on each corner of the laid out, homemade quilt an older resident of Alexandria had given you as a way of thanking you for helping them with some mundane chores around their home. You decided to place your soon to be picnic under a large oak tree that provided shade from the bright sun that shone in the sky. With a grunt, the archer plopped down on the quilt and stretched his legs out in front of him as he watched you diligently take out the variety of foods you had packed that morning and lay them out between the two of you.

Conversations flew comfortably between you two; catching up on the things you each had done over the last few days, reminiscing on almost forgotten memories, and flirting with one another by using witty retorts and teasing jests. When you weren’t conversing and instead eating from the array of food that was laid out in front of you, comfortable silence filled the space.

“How exactly did you come across this place?” You asked the archer once your stomach was aching and full. Your back was pressed against Daryl’s chest as you sat between his legs. One of his arms had draped loosely around your waist, and the pad of his thumb slipped under the hem of your shirt to caress your hip bone.

“When I was findin’ places to make trails, guess I got lucky when I stumbled upon here.” Daryl shrugged his shoulders dismissively. Glancing down at you, heat flushed his chest when he realized you were already looking at him, staring up at him with a sense of deep attention and light in your eyes. Your eyes were magnetic, and he had a hard time looking away from you.

“I’m glad you found this place. It’s so beautiful and peaceful here…it’s like this is the one place on earth that hasn’t been touched by walkers.” A smile graced your lips as you settled comfortably against Daryl’s broad frame. The archer hummed in response and tightened his arm around your waist before letting his chin rest on the top of your head.

As another comfortable silence fell over you both, the archer was trying not to get in his head. So far, everything was going well. You seemed to be enjoying the date so far, as a wide smile hadn’t left your face since the second you drove out of Alexandria. However, there was still one remaining thing Daryl had to do; and he was growing increasingly worried that it would mess up the entire day. The archer figured he’d just have to bite the bullet already. If he allowed himself to think any harder about the potential proposal, he was sure he would back out.

Not wanting to disturb you, Daryl carefully plunged his hand into the pocket that was inside his vest. His fingers felt for the pouch that held the precious piece of jewelry and concealed it in his palm as he fished it out. The nerves in his stomach began to flare, which caused the feeling of constricting knots to form and bring him discomfort. His hands began to clam up, and sweat began to form at his hairline and down his back. If you hadn’t been so lost in the feeling of solace the forest gave you, you would have thought the archer had suddenly gotten sick.

Glancing down at you again, Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat as he took in the image of your peaceful face. You seemed to be soaking in the warm sun rays that shone down on your face, eyes gently shut while your eyelashes sat delicately on top of your skin. There wasn’t a single worry line creasing your face; which was further proof of just how relaxed you felt. It had been a while since Daryl saw you this tranquil, and he was worried he was about to ruin it. His fingers anxiously twiddled with the string of twine that kept the opening of the small black pouch sealed.

Not knowing how to approach the situation, Daryl simply tossed the pouch into your lap and hoped for the best. Although he preferred actions over words in order to express his love for you, performing romantic gestures were still rather awkward and foreign to him.

When you felt something fall onto your lap, your first instinct was to look up at the oak tree, thinking that a small cluster of acorns had fallen from one of the branches. When you turned your gaze down to your lap, you were surprised to see the pouch in your possession. Shooting a questioning look towards Daryl, you noticed the light tint of red flushing the tips of his ears, the apples of his cheeks, down his neck, and across the expanse of his chest. Whatever he had just given you, it was making him uncharacteristically nervous.

When Daryl made no effort to stop you from inspecting the item he had given you, you tentatively began to untie the piece of twine. When a few of your fingers slipped into the bag and brushed over something small and smooth, your heart began to race. You had no idea what you were expecting as you carefully shook the item out of the bag, but a diamond ring falling into the palm of your hand definitely wasn’t it. A light gasp escaped past your lips as you eyed the glistening jewel.

“Daryl…?”

After the years of knowing Daryl, you had become fluent in, as you called it, “Darylism”. You understood what each different grunt meant, what look or glare said that words didn’t, and what underlying meanings meant without having to explicitly say it. However, you had no clue what was going on now, or what this gesture meant. The lines were blurred and written in an ancient text that not even the best decipherment experts could decode. This puzzlement caused you to become stunned into silence.

Daryl interpreted your silence as rejection, and quickly tried to backpedal his initial intentions. “You don’t gotta wear it or nothin’ if you don’t wanna…” The archer trailed off, his eyes darting everywhere but your face and his fingers pulling a frayed piece of thread hanging from the hem of his black button up shirt.

“Is this…is this a proposal?” You never deemed Daryl as the marriage type, so you couldn’t help but sound a bit tentative when you asked. Tearing your gaze away from the ring that sat in the center of your palm, you looked over at Daryl.

“It can mean whatever ya want it to.” Daryl shrugged his shoulders loosely while rubbing at the back of his neck. He was still unable to look you in the eyes, but his body had angled back towards you instead of away.

Fluttering butterflies erupted in your stomach, and the sensation rose up your body until the apples of your cheeks had heat to them. The more you thought about it, the giddier you felt. The bright smile that practically hadn’t left your face all day returned, accompanied with tingling sinuses and stinging eyes full of tears that had yet to be seen. Ever since the apocalypse began, you quickly dismissed the idea of ever getting married; it just didn’t seem plausible anymore. Even after you met Daryl and fell in love with him, that ideology didn’t change much due to the fact that the archer had made zero indication, up until this point, that he wanted that with you as well. It never bothered you much, or at least you convinced yourself that it didn’t.

Now, as you had a presumed engagement ring sitting in the palm of your hand, you realized just how badly you’ve wanted that extended bond with Daryl.

“I-uh-never believed in that sorta love crap ‘fore you, and ya mean a lot to me. I guess I just want us to be closer, ya know? So that ring can mean somethin’ or nothin’ at all. Just whatever you want.” Daryl clarified in his resumed anxious ramble as your silence was beginning to become too unbearable for him to stand any longer.

His choppy efforts of trying to explicitly bare his heart out to you was endearing, and you felt your heart swell two sizes too big for your chest to hold.

“You have to say it.” You stated with a slight quiver of emotion in your voice. Tears had finally begun to well up in your eyes, and you found yourself having a hard time sitting still as you waited with anticipation.

“Huh?” The archer quickly shot his gaze towards yours, and was taken aback by the genuinely in your brightened face.

“You have to ask…the question.” You reiterated as the corners of your eyes crinkled with delight.

“I ain’t gettin’ down on one knee…I won’t be able to get back up.” Daryl grumbled as he anxiously wiped his sweaty palms over his pants.

You couldn’t help but laugh joyously at your soon to be husband’s concerns. With a slight shake of your head, you grabbed one of Daryl’s hands and placed the diamond ring in his possession with a slip of your hand. “You don’t have to…you just have to say it.”

Glancing down at the ring that now sat in his hand, Daryl’s worries were slightly relieved by your reassurances. Clearing his throat, Daryl held the ring up to you and stared deeply into your awaiting eyes.

“Will you-uh-marry me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh out of glee and throw your arms around Daryl’s neck, falling into him as your face became buried in his shoulder. The archer practically fell over as he caught your embrace. A smile danced around the corner of his lips while he allowed himself to relish in warmth he felt rushing his body. Instinctively, his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you against him.

“Yes! Yes! A million times, yes!” You were glowing with glee as you spoke the cheesy romance line.

Did you really need Daryl to ask you to marry him? No. Did you only request it just so you could see his reaction to the corny response you gave? Yes.

“Alright, ‘m takin’ that ring back now.” Daryl snickered as you pulled away from him slightly, a look of freight contorting your face that previously held a rather smug grin. A rare, teeth baring smile graced Daryl’s face as he felt your arms tighten around his shoulders.

“Absolutely not.” That seemed like enough of a statement to retract Daryl from his playful taunt. Holding your left hand out, you wiggled in excitement as he slipped the glistening diamond ring on your ring finger.

With hushed voices and tear filled eyes, you both exchanged your individual vows to each other. You didn’t need a white dress, an officiant, or guests observing the most vulnerable proclamations of love to ever be spoken in order to solidify your marriage to Daryl. Being alone with the love of your life, and surrounded by forestry that seemed unearthly and enchanted, was more beautiful and held more sincerity than any wedding party could ever hold.

As far as you and Daryl are concerned, he was your husband, and you his wife. Together, you would live happily ever after.

A/N: This was so cute to write! I’m sorry this took awhile for me to finish, I’ve just been so busy with irl stuff and it’s just exhausted me. Thank you to the anon who requested this, I hope it’s what you were looking for! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!! <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

Fallout

Summary: what happens after Rooster's worst fear becomes his reality?

Pairing: Rooster x Reader

Warnings: Language, Ejection, Pregnancy Complications

There were very few things in this world that unnerved Rooster Bradshaw.

The thought of losing his wife was one.

Something happening to their unborn child was another.

But the thing that he couldn't get over, the fear that lived deep in his mind, for as far back as he could remember, was having to eject over deep water and the canopy malfunctioning.

The thought crept into Rooster's mind on every over water flight. The fear that he would die like his father did. It became even more prominent after you had gotten married, and now that you were expecting a child in a few months, it seemed even worse.

He told himself it was a freak accident that killed his father, that planes were safer now, but no matter how much he told himself that, he could never shake the eerie feeling of it.

It was supposed to be a routine training day. A few test flights with the new recruits over water. He wasn't even supposed to be flying, but Coyote woke up with the flu, so he filled in.

The scene played out in front of him in slow motion.

The birds came out of no where.

Left engine on fire.

Right engine gone.

The desperation he felt has he tried to regain control of the aircraft.

He couldn't save it.

Maverick screamed at him to eject... and so he did.

And then it happened.

His worst fear realized: the canopy didn't open all the way.

His life flashed before his eyes. He thought of you. The widow you would be come. And thought of his child and how they would never know him.

When his body made contact with the canopy, the last thought that crossed his mind was: "I tried so hard to live like my father, and now I'm going to die like him."

Maverick watched and heard the scene unfold in horror. He saw Rooster's plane catch on fire. He heard the fear in his voice as he tried desperately to save it. Rooster had once told him his biggest fear was dying like his father, and now he was living it.

For Maverick it felt like losing Goose all over again.

He remembers screaming for Bradley to eject. Bradley telling him to tell his wife he loved her, and then before the coms went dead, he heard it, the unmistakable sound of Rooster's body colliding with the canopy.

Maverick felt his heart drop. Bile rose into his throat as he desperately tried to contact him.

"This can't be happening again. I can't lose him. I can't tell another wife and child their husband and father is gone. I can't lose him Goose." Maverick thought.

His ears were ringing as people around him scrambled while search and rescue was deployed.

Maverick gripped the microphone crying out for Rooster to respond, but he didn't. He didn't even realize he had collapsed on the floor until he felt Hangman and Payback lifting him up and dragging him out of the room.

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon for you. You were finishing up some decorating in the nursery when you heard the knock on the door. "I wonder who that could be?" You said cradling you five month along baby bump.

You padded your way to the door, and when you opened it to find both Hangman and Maverick standing there with sorrowful eyes. Your heart dropped and the grip on your stomach tightened.

You don't remember much of what they said. After Maverick told you "There's been and accident." Your screams and tears filled your ears. You would have collapsed right there at your front door had Jake not caught you.

The two men escorted you to Jake's car and helped you in so they could take you to the hospital. You felt sick. On the ride there, you heard them talking to you, but it was all a blur.

You remember hearing Maverick explain what happened in bits and pieces... bird strike... both engines failed.... ejection over water... he hit the canopy.

You knew that was Rooster fear. He had told you how his father died from a very similar situation and how he prayed it would never happen to him. But it did. However, he was alive, for now.

No one knew exactly what condition he was in. You were trembling as Hangman and Maverick lead you into the hospital.

Your thoughts were racing as they tried to find out about Bradley. You were sure if they weren't holding onto you, you would drop to the floor in panic.

The doctors escorted you to his room. The doctors tried to explain to you what happened, but you couldn't hear them over the pounding of your own heart in your ears.

You felt sick as you looked through the glass.

Rooster lay there in the hospital bed. His right arm was in a sling. You could see some bruises along his face, some cuts dotted his forehead and there was a fresh set of stitches in his chin in almost the exact same spot his other scar was.

"Y/N" Maverick said gently touching your arm.

"What? I'm sorry what did you say?" You ask snapping back to reality.

"The doctors said he has a broken arm, a few bruised ribs and a concussion. He's lucky to be—that it wasn't worse than this." Maverick says. You hear the crack in voice. You know that this hard for him to, for him to see Rooster like this, to have witnessed the same thing happen to him that happened to Goose.

But he's right. Rooster was lucky. He could have died over the water, just like the man he tried so hard to emulate.

"They are keeping him sedated for now for the pain. They'll wake him up tomorrow. You don't have to stay here, I can take you home and get you in the morning or meet you over here." Maverick tells you.

"No, I'm not leaving him. I can't." You say trying to fight off fresh tears.

It had been six weeks since the accident. Rooster had been cleared by medical to fly again and he was itching to get back into the cockpit.

He was suiting up to do a test flight. "You ready to get back up there?" Hangman asked patting him on the shoulder.

"Yeah. I was going crazy on paper duty." Rooster smiles at him before grabbing his helmet and taking off.

He went through his preflight checks and was strapped into his seat.

He took a few deep breath as the canopy came down. He could hear coms in his ears. His jet was positioned to take off and then it hit him.

The panic, the fear that he couldn't breath.

His chest tighten as black spots clouded his vision.

"Lieutenant Commander, are you ready for takeoff?" Range control asked him.

"Rooster are you okay?" He heard Hangman ask.

"Pull yourself together Bradley." He thought to himself.

He reached out for the throttle but his hand was trembling.

"Fuck!" He cursed before opening the canopy and climbing out of his jet.

Maverick tried to talk to him once he reached the tarmac, but Rooster sped past him to the locker rooms.

He slammed his gear into locker, grabbed his keys and headed home.

You had busied yourself preparing for the arrival of your child. You had three months left in your pregnancy and for the past week and a half you hadn't been feeling the best. Your OB said everything was fine but you weren't convinced. You had wanted to say something to Bradley, but after his accident he had been so—so distant with you. Cold even.

You knew he was stressed and there was some underlying tension with everything. You hoped that once he was able to fly again he would be better.

You knew today was the day he would finally get back up in the sky and you were so happy for him.

You prayed that this was what he needed to get back to normal. You couldn't take much more of him shutting you out. These past six weeks had been hard on both of you, physically and mentally.

You let out a deep breath as you felt another pain in your abdomen.

"Listen here kid... I love you, but if you could not play soccer with my organs, that would be great." You told your unborn child.

You were in the kitchen getting ready to start dinner when you heard your husband's keys in the door.

He came in and toed his boots off in the hallway. You wiped your hands off and went to greet him.

"Hey baby how was your—" he brushed past your out stretched arms and went straight for the fridge grabbing a beer and downing it in one gulp before placing his hands on the kitchen island. His shoulders shrugged and he let out a deep breath.

"Oh no baby. Did medical not let you fly today? I'm sorry. I'm sure they had a good reason." You say going to rub his back.

He abruptly shifts away from your touch. You can tell he is tense.

"They did clear me to fly but I couldn't do it. I got ready for take off and I panicked. So I jumped out of my plane and ran away like some scared little kid." He grumbled out.

"Baby. It's okay Bradley. Maybe just need a little more time to—"

"I don't need more TIME!" He yells at you smacking his fist on the counter.

You jump back from him and feel a tinge in your stomach.

"Rooster you went through something very traumatic, no one is going to fault you if you aren't ready. No one is going to be upset if you need more time to process or if you need to talk to someone" You try to calm him.

"I don't need more time Y/N! I've spent six weeks cooped up in this house or in an office doing paperwork! I need to get back in a plane." He growls turning to face you. His face is flushed in anger.

"Bradley you almost died for crying out loud! That's not something you get over. It takes time to heal. It isn't a race. Physically you may be fine, but I'm worried mentally you aren't okay!" You say at a decibel louder than you intended as another sharp pain shoots through you.

"You haven't been yourself lately! You're cold, and distant, you don't talk to me about anything. You... you aren't... you're just—"

Another prick of pain cuts you off.

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks now. You don't want to argue with your husband. You just wish he wouldn't be so hard headed.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD! I am going to lose it if one more person makes a comment about my mental health! I am a Naval fucking Aviator! I am one of the mentally strongest people in the world. Do you not realize that? I'm a pilot who's spent six weeks on the ground! Of course I haven't been myself! And did you ever think that maybe I don't want to talk about what happened?

And I've been distant because the week after I got discharged you smothered me trying to take care of me! I'm a grown man, I didn't need you fussing over me! I don't need you trying to psychoanalyze or treating me like a child!

All you wanted to to talk about was what happened and how I was feeling. I was feeling like I wanted to let it go and pretend it didn't happen but you wouldn't let it rest!" He screams at you and points and accusatory finger at you.

Your cheeks are burning and tears brim your eyes. You ball your hands into fist and open your mouth ready to scream at him. But instead your words die your throat as a searing pain rips through you and you crumple on the kitchen floor.

Rooster instantly softens and jumps to your side.

"Honey what's wrong?" He asks as panic sets into his body.

You grab your stomach and gasp out. "It... it hurts."

The color drains from his face. You're barely six months along. It's too soon for you to be going into labor.

Without hesitating Rooster scoops you up bridal style. He slips on some slides he keeps by the door and runs you to the Bronco. He carefully buckles you in as more pain racks your body.

Rooster breaks God knows how many traffic laws to get you to the ER.

He rushes you in while cradling you in his arms.

"Please someone help. My wife... she collapsed... she's having abdominal pain and she is pregnant!" He all but yells at the doctors and nurses. They quickly take you in a room and start asking him questions. You're too much pain to speak.

"How far along is she?" Someone asks "6 months... um 27 weeks." He stammers out.

"Has she had this pain before?" A doctor asks.

"Um... um... I don't know she... she hasn't said anything to me... I'm not sure. He stutters out.

"Her BP is extremely high and her heart rate is spiking. Fetal heart rate is high too. Pushing meds now. Someone get her and the baby on a heart monitor stat!" A doctor yells. Rooster panics not knowing what to do.

"What's happening?" He ask to no one in particular as the medical staff moves in a flurry around you.

"Sir, sir! I'm sorry you can't be in here right now we need space to work!" A nurse says as to him as he is pushed out of the the room.

He sighs heads to the waiting room. He does the only thing he can think to do... he calls Maverick.

The phone rings once before Pete answers.

"Mav." Rooster breathes into the receiver trying not to cry.

"Rooster what's wrong?" Maverick asks him.

"It's Y/N. She collapsed. We are at the emergency room. They won't let me back there with her." Rooster tells him as tears slip down his face.

"I'll be there in fifteen." Maverick tells him before hanging up.

Rooster send a message to the Dagger Squad group chat. They all love you. And he knows they would want to know. He presses send on the message and runs a shaky hand over his face.

"This is all my fault." He thinks. "If I hadn't shut her out. If hadn't been so mean, if I hadn't yelled at her." He mentally kicks himself.

Less than fifteen minutes later the entire ER lobby is filled with Maverick, Penny, Amelia, and the entire Dagger Squad. Rooster tells them they didn't have to come to which Phoenix responds "We are family Rooster. Family is there for you you no matter what."

Rooster pulled her into a hug. "Maverick, can I talk to you?" He asked.

"Sure Rooster. Let's take a walk and get some coffee." Maverick said hopping up.

"We'll call you if we hear anything." Hangman said before the duo left.

When they were out of earshot of the group Rooster explained what happened.

"It's all my fault Maverick. I came home so mad at myself and I took it out on her. I've been awful to her these past few weeks. I shut her out, and she tried talking to me about it today and I... I just lost it on her. The last thing they said was her blood pressure was extremely high, and so was her heart rate and the baby's. I did this to her. I stressed her out. I'm the reason she is here." Rooster sobbed as Maverick pulled him in for a hug.

"Bradley, this isn't your fault. You can't blame yourself. Y/N is strong. She is going to be okay. When you get to see her, you need to apologize. Tell her everything you did wrong and beg for her forgiveness. And I think you should talk to Doc on base. You aren't weak for seeing a counselor." Maverick told him.

"You're right Mav. She even said I need to talk to someone. God I told her she smothered me and I didn't need her to take care of me. I'm such an idiot. She is going to hate me after this." Rooster berated himself.

"Rooster. You made a mistake. You've been under a lot of stress. Y/N loves you. She could never hate you. Now calm down. Everything is going to be okay." Maverick assured him.

The pair of pilots made their way back to the waiting room. Bradley's foot tapped nervously against the floor.

"Bradshaw." A nurse called out. Everyone jumped up.

"Um, just the husband?" The nurse said looking at the group.

Rooster quickly followed her to the room you were in.

"Y/N baby!" He greeted you moving forward to take your hand.

"Hey honey." You smiled at him.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw." The doctor began.

"Your wife's blood pressure was dangerously high, her heart rate and the baby's was much higher than we would like them to be. Has she been under a lot of stress recently?"

"Yes. I'm an aviator and had an accident at work." Rooster states.

"I see, well, we'd like to keep her overnight to make sure there are no signs of pre-eclampsia and to monitor her and the baby." The doctor continues.

"Mrs. Bradshaw. Stress coupled with your blood pressure is most likely what caused your pain. I can see from your chart that your OB saw you last week for the pain but everything seemed normal then. If it continues to stay elevated like this, there is a possibility we are going to have to put you on bed rest, we will know more in the morning." The doctor states before leaving the room.

"You went to the OB last week for pain and didn't tell me?" Rooster asks you once you are alone.

"You were so stressed about work. You barely talked to me. I— I didn't want to worry you. I wasn't sure you would care" You confess.

Rooster almost breaks at your words.

"Honey, you and this baby are the most important things to me. As long as I have you two I don't care if I never fly again. I'm sorry for how I've been. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. I should have paid attention. I should have been there for you." Rooster cries.

You wipe the tears from his face.

"You're here now. That's what matters."

He leans down to kiss you.

He doesn't leave your side for the entire night or the next day. Thankfully you are cleared to go home but you have to be checked weekly by your OB as a precaution.

Rooster works to take extra good care of you and himself. He talks to the counselor on base multiple times to fully process everything instead of trying to bottle it up.

A few weeks later he is able to get back into a plane and fly.

Three months later he is by your side for the birth of a healthy baby boy.

Later in the evening while you're sleeping he picks Nicholas up from his hospital crib and holds him close to his chest. He looks at his son and looks at you. Then he looks towards the setting sun and thanks his father for watching over him that day and bringing him back to his family.

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x wife!reader #rooster fluff #lt. bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun rooster #top gun fic #tgm fic #tgm #top gun 2

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penvisions · 17 days

Text

wish i never met you {a garnish one shot}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Fear of rejection and messing up so beyond comprehension makes you regret crossing the professional line and getting to know Joel as you do now.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon typical language, joel thinks he's the one in charge but we all know it's really reader, religious contemplation, mentions of past trauma, mentions of bad family dynamics, smoking, consumption of alcohol, menstruation, talk of menstruation, blood, cramps, muscle soreness, unorthodox pregnancy announcement, reader is a hot mess, allusions to adult content, allusions to smut, mentions of past p in v, might need to add more if i missed anything!

A/N: wrote this as part of a fun, silly fic title prompt game submission from a sweet anon. it totally inspired an angsty din piece at first that i have in my drafts but then these two slammed into my brain and hijacked the idea. i just love them, your honor. i have so much love for them. NOW I KNOW THIS SUBJECT MATTER ISN'T FOR EVERYONE, I REALLY DEBATED POSTING THIS OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS BC I KNOW IT'S NOT EVERYONE'S CUP OF TEA but i feel like this is a good trajectory for these two, truly. i'm so sorry if anyone disagrees with the direction i took this in and i hopei t doesn't take away from the original series for y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“No, fuck off.” Was the quick response to a wide palm caressing over your back. You were hunched over your crossed legs on the couch, aware of how bad the position was for your posture. But it was the only way to find any relief on your aching back. You had thought it was cramps at first, really, but then you realized all the symptoms of your monthly cycle fell in line with something else when the bleeding never started.

“Excuse me, darlin’? You sure you wanna use that language with me?” Joel’s deep voice was tinged with an edge, giving you the chance to retract your expletives. You were never so outright with your denial, never wanting to deny the man a few feet away. But the way in which you had expressed it to an obviously exhausted Joel was maybe too bold for the late hour. But you didn’t take it, instead repeating yourself.

“Kindly, fuck off. Don’t touch me.” You pulled away from him, hunching lower under his hand to break the contact.

“That’s not much better, ya know.” Joel’s hands shifted to his waist, a thick brow raised as he took in the sight of you nearly balled up, the faint light of the screen lighting up your face as you ignored him.

A harsh contraction of your muscles had you groaning out, “I wish I never met you.”

“C’mon now, you don’t mean that.” Joel huffed, trying to keep his calm, but you knew it was hard for him even if you really didn’t feel all that good. You never took your pain or frustration out on him like this, it was always soft murmurs of ‘hold me’ or ‘can I borrow your warmth’. Never the way you were reacting now.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into y-“ His mouth snapped shut, eyes focusing on the screen. On the words you had typed into the search engine. Normally he would tease you over the typos, your fingers not working as quick as you mind for all the grace and focus you normally had to expertly wield a sharp knife.

Your heart thumped at the sudden silence. The fizzling tension that had filled the room.

“Don’t!” You gasped out, slamming the laptop closed and shielding the device with your body completely.

“Darlin’…” You swore you could hear the cogs turning in his head. Thinking back on the depraved as desperate way you had been seeking him out when he returned home from a late shift at the restaurant even despite the haze of sleep, in the mornings before you had to peel yourself away to go to campus, the photos you had brazenly sent him without warning that had him shielding or turning his phone over throughout the day. Thinking back on the way you had been inhaling food at any occasion, none of your normal contemplation or silence after what you considered a binge. Thinking back on the way you had begun to complain of your work clothing feeling wrong and too tight on your aching body as you dressed in the morning.

When he moved to sit on the other side of the couch, far too close for comfort, you shied away and pressed your back into the arm on your end.

“Not gonna touch ya, you have my word.” He raised his hands placatingly, his expression so soft that the tears burst from you without warning.

“You do-don’t wanna touch me. Not anymo-more.” Hiccups jolted your body, making the skin you were already uncomfortable in tingle. “I ruined ev-everything.”

He regarded you with a small frown, his plush lips pulled down as he clasped his hands together in his lap. Just as he opened his mouth to speak the words flew from you.

“I remember what you said, on the line.” You narrowed your eyes at him as they echoed in your head.

‘It had been a slow day, prep and cleaning taking over most of the evening shift. It had been back before you had taken on a role in the kitchen. Sneaking fries from the bowl of them on the expo line. They hadn’t been hot or even salted, but they were better than snacking on the fruity garnishes at the bar.

He had been passing the time with who you hadn’t known at the time was his brother, Tommy. Who had driven into the city to help take a look at the empty lot beside the restaurant, both of them contemplating the construction of a patio. But they had ended up in the kitchen, hunger too strong a call.

While Joel was on the line, Tommy was beside you, sneaking fries with a wink in your direction. But you ignored him, focused on looking through the catalogue of one of your vendors. Trying to make a seasonal menu. But your ears caught the harsh grunt of the man your eyes trailed over in the midst of busy nights.

“Wouldn’t do it, no.”

“C’mon, you seriously tellin’ me you wouldn’t baby sit for me if I were to gift you with a niece or nephew.”

“No, ‘m too old. Hire a babysitter.”

“You’re full of it ‘n you know it.”

“Brother, a baby is a lot of work. Now, your baby? Even more so.” Joel leveled his brother with a look that silenced any other argument on the matter.’

The moment he realized what you were talking about, his brows flew up into his hairline and he breathed out a hearty chuckle.

“Darlin’, I was just givin’ him a hard time. You gotta know that.”

“I didn’t know you.” You stood up from the couch, body protesting the movement. Cupping a hand over your mouth, you breathed harshly as you tried to tamp down a bout of nausea. “And now that I do, I’m gonna have to consider literally everything on my own and I’m gonna hate how much it hurts to not know you any longer. I wish I-“

“No,” He sighed, brow furrowing before he pinned you with a serious expression. “You do know me now and I wouldn’t turn my back on you, on this. I’m in it, pretty girl, no matter what you decide to do.”

When you whipped away from him, shuddering breaths wracking your sore body, the crack of your voice on a sob spurred him into motion. His arms came around you slowly, giving you the chance to retreat if it wasn’t something you wanted. But you let him, the feel of his chest warm and soothing on your aching back. The push of his soft stomach comforting. His chin hooked over a shoulder, and he spoke in such a somber tone.

“Darlin’, I always thought I was too old to do this again. But I haven’t crossed fifty quite yet and the thought of you carrying my child, of loving me and my child. God, I would give anything for it to be our future. To see you blossom into yourself more, to show our baby the same devotion you give to everything in your life, you deserve somewhere to put all your love.”

One of his hands moved over the one you had on your middle. Holding you so secure, holding you both so secure.

“Joel…it’s a lot. It’s….we’re not even-“ You turned in his arms, facing him. His beautiful, open expression so full of love and adoration, all of it for you. Your heart melted in your chest, dripping low to flutter in your stomach. You weren’t even overtly religious, left over from the trauma of your childhood. Of being forced to attend mass and important holidays alongside your grandparents. The denial of your father never urging you to seek out a higher power in replacement. But the thought of technically being single and going through something like this. It made you afraid.

“There’s a ring in my sock drawer. Got it the day of our first do over date. ‘s why I was so close to the campus. It’s yours. I’m yours. This could be yours. But only if you want it.” Joel’s forehead lightly thumped against yours as he pressed in close. His breath a warm wash over your face, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke.

Looking between each of his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitancy from him it was quiet. When you didn’t find any, you felt a smile pull at your lips as you nodded your head in affirmation. Wet laughter bubbling up as his lips pressed to yours, a smile of his own for you to feel on them.

“But I still expect you to propose, can’t skip any steps with me. I know you think you’re hot shit with being crowned the city’s most prolific chef of the year but I swear to-“

He cut you off with another kiss, his moustache ticking your upper lip as he nipped at your bottom one.

“I don’t wanna miss any steps with ya, darlin’. I’m here for ‘em all.”

It was hard to ignore the stirring of other feelings in your body, drowning out the aches and pains. But when realization hit you, you pulled back with wide eyes.

“We’re gonna have to stop drinking and smoking!”

“We?”

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