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Countryside getaway



Yandere!mafia oc x reader
Summary: Silas has decided that the two of you should spend some time together, far away from his world, and you get to experience each other's real sides. No fear, no worries.
Warnings: mentions of crimes, mentions of murder, Silas dirty minded humor, but overall a softer oneshot
Word count: 2.3k
No one knows where you're going. Not even you. He has one hand on the steeringwheel, the other one holds your thigh.
He's wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on his arms.
“Keep your eyes on the road, map reader, or we'll never get there”, Silas says, giving you a teasing look.
“You have a GPS”, you mutter and turn your head more comfortably against the pillow.
“My GPS does not have your voice.”
“I don't even know where we're going.”
“You don't have to. Just read the directions.”
“How much further do we have to go? We've been sitting here for hours …”
“I did not know I had brought a child with me. I've planned something romantic and you're just complaining.” He caresses your thigh with his thumb, chuckling. “One more hour, little thing. That good enough for you?”
You groan and hide your face in the pillow and he laughs. He's different like this, when he's not surrounded by his men. When he's not in that space. Here, in his sports car with just the two of you, he's different. Softer. Human. It loosens your walls too.
“So whiny”, he chuckles. “Slept bad?”
“Don't kid”, you mutter and make yourself comfortable against the pillow again.
“Maybe we both need this. I need a break and you need to be able to sleep. Can't do that at home, can you?”
No, you can't. Not when he comes home in the middle of the night, bloody and roughed up. At home, you wake to every little sound with your heart beating in your chest.
“You know”, Silas starts, “its important to do this. To get away. Especially in my industry. Otherwise you get consumed.”
“Will SIC be able to handle things?”
“He has no choice.”
“Are you really okay to go by yourself? You’re recognizable.”
“Darling, they can't do anything. Thankfully, the law is strict and as long as there is no evidence connecting me to something they can't actually take me. They can suspect me, but never catch me. I'm fine.” He smirks, glancing at you. “Why? You're worried?”
You give him a glare and turn your head out the window.
“I'll break that facade down, Y/N”, he smiles and leans back in his seat. “We have four days all to ourselves. And I'll make the most of it.” His smirk deepens. “With no one around … I can take you just however I want to, whenever. And if I'm not wrong, SIC said that the house is remote. You can be as loud as you want.”
You slap his shoulder.
“Ouch, I'm driving here”, he chuckles. “Mind your hands?”
“Focus on your driving then.”
“How can I when you're sitting right here?”
His free hand on your thigh squeezes ever so slightly. You stare at him, contemplating opening the door and throwing yourself out on the highway.
The car has since long ago pulled in on a gravel road with no cars. Red flowers cover the fields around you, and for a second you're sure he has orchestrated it.
The house is smaller than Silas's house back in the city, less modern.
“Jump out, little thing”, he says as he unbuckles himself. “We're here.”
You stretch, legs wobbly from hours of sitting down. Silas unlocks the trunk and carries your bags inside. You stand in the middle of the gravel driveway, looking around and listening to the absolute lack of noise.
“Are you coming or what?” Silas asks from the front door. “Don't be slow or I'll carry you too. No gentler than these bags.”
You hurry after him. He smirks.
It's not hard finding the bedroom. A note lay in the bedding. Silas picks it up and scoffs at the familiar handwriting.
“Be nice to the bed, it's old, you break if you pay for it — SIC.”
“That son of a bitch”, Silas chuckles and turns to you, showing the note. “Seems like he read my mind.”
“You are kind of predictable”, you say.
Silas starts to walk towards you, backing you up against the nearest wall, wearing a soft smirk. “Me? Predictable? If I was predictable I wouldn't be a crime organization leader, my dumb little Y/N.”
You shrug. “I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, you’re good at saying things.” His hand sneaks up to your jaw. “How about you put your poor mouth to other uses for once? I know a pair of lips that would die to meet them.”
His cheesiness makes you scoff out a small smile, enough for him to close the distance. Ever since you’ve forced him to start using lip balm, his mouth is soft when it moves against yours. You sigh out and he swallows the sound in a greedy inhale. He holds you close, one hand on your back, the other on your jaw.
“Silas, you’ll bruise my lips”, you chuckle and try to turn your head away.
“Let me”, he breathes and directs you right back to his mouth.
And he does. He doesn’t half-ass things. He pulls back with proudness in his eyes.
“Let’s go shopping now.”
“Shopping?”
“We need food. Can’t just live off each other, unfortunately.”
He grabs your hand and leads you back out to the black sports car and you’re once again put on map reader duty to find the nearest grocery store. You can’t remember the last time you’ve actually grocery shopped with him. Normally, he sends out someone to buy things, and if he can’t trust anyone, he sends SIC. Just because Silas can’t be arrested, doesn’t mean he’s a hundred percent safe.
“Alright”, he mutters and grabs a cart. “Let’s pretend to be a normal couple.”
You can’t help but chuckle and he gives you a quick look.
“Let’s get this shitshow on the road, let’s go”, he mutters and nods at you to follow. “Don’t start running around or I’ll place you in the cart like a three year old. Okay, what do we need?”
“You need steak”, you joke.
“Damn right I do, but I get my steak from high quality butchers, I’ll get sick if I get it from a grocery store.”
“Aw, is your little tummy sensitive?” you ask, making sure it sounds more like “wittle”.
“Y/N, I’m warning you.”
His warning isn’t serious. Not now. Not like this. It only maks you smile.
“Are you going to be a brat all vacation just because you think I won’t do anything?” Silas asks behind you, pushing the cart into your back. “I did tell you we are remote, didn’t I?”
“Don't touch me or I'll scream.”
“Oh, you'll scream alright.”
“Silas!”
He chuckles, eyes softening. “I couldn't help it. You played that into my hands a bit too good to pass up on.”
“You’re so childish. Maybe you should tone it down on the threatening part if you don’t want more people staring at you. You don’t need to give them a reason to recognise you.”
Silas scoffs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He enjoys this side of you way too much. He can only enjoy it in situations like this, far away from his world. When you're not scared of him.
“What's the budget?” you ask him.
“What?”
“The budget? You said to pretend to be a normal couple. Normal couples don't have your credit card.”
Silas groans audibly.
“I'm not compromising my money”, he says. “Stop messing around, grab what you want.”
You handle the actual shopping part while he pushes the cart behind you. People glance at him, if not for recognising him, then for his tattoos, but he pretends to be unaware.
“Little thing.”
“Hm?”
“Grab those.”
You follow where he nods. Chips. They fall into the cart. So do a lot of other things Silas usually doesn't buy.
“Might as well go for it now that SIC can't bully me”, he shrugs.
The cashier seems to recognise Silas, but she doesn't say anything. Silas is polite and wishes her a good day, as if he wasn't who she thought he was, before turning to you and grabbing the plastic bags.
Back at the house, he puts everything into the fridge and starts to cook right away.
“You’re not allowed to help”, he says and taps your forehead. “I want to actually eat tonight.”
“I can cook”, you insist.
“Yeah. Sure. How about you go and set the table while I handle the knives and the stove?”
“Fine.”
You do as you’re told, searching the drawers for cutlery and plates. He glances at you from time to time and can’t help but smile. Maybe this was what he wanted all along? To play family.
“It’s not often we get to do this”, he says as he plates the food. “Domestic things, I mean. Should enjoy it while we can. Oh, I saw a pool out in the backyard, by the way. I think we should try it out after dinner. I brought alcohol from back home.”
“Drinking and swimming doesn’t sound very safe.”
“Then you’ll just have to rescue me. They didn’t teach you life guard duty in swimming class?”
“Yes, but they didn’t prepare me to drag a man that weighs enough to crush a car.”
“So my workouts are working?” His grin widens as he takes a sip of his water. “Thank you, Y/N.”
Conversation die out for a moment, but Silas won’t let the night pass.
“So?” he says. “Don’t you have something to say?”
“What?” you ask.
“We don’t often get to just talk. Spew something out. Anything.”
You think for a moment. You usually have a lot of thoughts, but when put on the spot all seem to vanish.
“I like the food.”
Silas laughs. Actually laughs. You haven’t hard a genuine, carefree laugh from him in a long time. His back eyes curl into half moons.
“What?” you ask. “What is it?”
“You can say a million things and that’s what you choose to say?” he says. “That the food is good? I didn’t think I cooked that good food, enough for that to be the only thing you think of.”
“You put me on the spot, I just said the first thing that came to mind!”
“Try again, then.”
“Well … I … could really go for some alcohol right now.”
Silas smiles and rises from his chair. He disappears out of the room and returns with two bottles. One brandy, one red wine.
“Okay, your majesty”, he says. “Which fancies your taste buds?”
“Wine, probably. Fits better with dinner. You'll get brandy, I suspect?”
“You know me well.” He opens both bottles and pours. “I'm responsible for you, so it's my duty to make sure you don't get absolutely decked.”
“I thought I was the one that had to make sure you didn't fall face down in the pool?”
“Yeah, but let's be realistic for a second. I can hold my alcohol … you? Please.”
“Rude.”
“It is not rude if I'm stating facts, you just want to deny your incapable alcohol consumption.”
You take a sip of your wine and glare at him.
Silas jokingly suggests you both skinny dip. You shoot down the idea. He's a predator, taking your whole arm if you foolishly give him a finger. You'd like your body working for your getaway.
You're not sure what prompts him, the alcohol or his childishness, to jump into the pool like a bomb. Water splashes everywhere, both on your dry form and your towels, and he breaks the surface with a wide grin. He pushes his black hair back and swims over to the edge. His tattoos warp under the water.
“I’m wet now”, you say in a ‘matter of fact’ tone.
He looks up at you, squinting one eye full of water shut. “Yeah? Jump in then.”
You decide to get in slowly, but he has other plans. His hand grips your wrist and pulls you into the pool. You yelp, but never have a second to worry about inhaling water, because he holds you.
“So much drama for nothing”, Silas chuckles and wipes water out of your eyes. "I've got you.”
His tattooed arms half hug you, half cradle you as he sways back and forth in the water.
“Today”, you start, hesitant, “when we were at the grocery store, and people looked at you, and what you said before that … I started to think about something just now.”
“What?” he asks softly.
“What do I do if you're taken? Or killed?”
“That will never happen.”
“But what if it does?”
Silas sighs, arms around you tightening slightly.
“If I ever were to never come back home for whatever reasons”, he started slowly, “then SIC would follow the instructions I’ve told him.”
“What are those?”
“To get you far away from everything and everyone and keep you safe. You'd get a cute little house on the coast where you could live peacefully. You'd have my dog, and how many bodyguards it takes to replace me. SIC would be there too. He’d check up on you.”
“That sounds pretty lonely.”
“What? Are you planning to become the Great Gatsby after I disappear?”
He caresses your face with a wet hand.
“I have money put away for you in case anything happens”, he promises and rolls his eyes. “And I might have made a deal with the devil to get you new papers in case something happens.”
“Who?”
“The parasite I'm unfortunately to call brother.”
“Ares?”
“Don't say his name. Let's drop this now. I don't want to think about it. Especially since it won't happen.”
The entire wine bottle is empty once the two of you get out of the pool and head to bed. Silas wears a dark Grey hoodie and sweatpants, insisting you wear comfy clothes too. He thinks it is better for cuddles. You're wrapped in his hoodie covered arms, face pressed to his chest. You'll be damned if you try to get out of his arms any time before morning hours.
Somehow, you wish this little getaway could last forever. Life would be easier that way. Silas sighs out, unbeknownst thinking the exact same thing.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere mafia#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oneshot#soft yandere
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Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader
Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!
When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.
As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.
<<Previous Next>>
Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️
Chapter 21: Pack Cardio
The moment Yeosang's door closed upstairs, the living room fell into an awkward silence broken only by the sound of Wooyoung dramatically throwing himself back onto the couch.
"Well," he announced to the ceiling, "that escalated quickly."
"Wooyoung," Seonghwa warned from the kitchen doorway, though his own nostrils were flaring slightly as the combined scents of aroused omega and claiming alpha began to drift through the house.
"What? I'm just saying! One minute they're having a nice literary afternoon, the next minute our quiet little Yeosang is going full possessive alpha and dragging our mate upstairs like—"
"Like what?" San asked, appearing from the direction of the stairs looking slightly dazed. His enhanced alpha hearing had clearly picked up more than he bargained for.
"Like a romance novel hero!" Wooyoung finished dramatically. "I'm so proud. Our little bookworm finally grew some claws!"
A muffled sound from upstairs made all four alphas in the living room freeze. Hongjoong, who had been trying to read emails on his phone, closed his eyes and took a deliberately slow breath.
"This is fine," he muttered to himself. "This is completely normal. Mates. In our house. Being... mated."
"Is anyone else finding it very hard to concentrate right now?" Jongho asked quietly, his voice strained as he gripped the arm of his chair.
"The scent," Yunho said from where he'd appeared in the doorway, his eyes slightly unfocused. "It's... intense."
Wooyoung sat up suddenly, sniffing the air with exaggerated movements. "Oh my GOD, you're right. It's like... happiness and jasmine and— satisfied omega."
"Wooyoung!" Seonghwa hissed, though his own control was clearly being tested as he unconsciously moved closer to the stairs.
"I'm just appreciating the experience!" Wooyoung defended. "This is educational! Scientific! I'm learning about pack dynamics!"
Another sound from upstairs—definitely your voice this time—made Mingi appear from the kitchen looking like he'd been punched. "I'm going for a run," he announced abruptly.
"Good idea," Hongjoong said immediately. "Long run. Very long run."
"I'll come with you," San added quickly, already heading for the door.
"Make that four," Yunho called, following them. "Y/n is becoming incredibly valuable to our cardio."
Wooyoung watched four of his packmates flee the house before turning to the remaining alphas with theatrical despair. "Am I the only one with any self-control here? Any emotional maturity? Any—OH HOLY MOLY THAT WAS LOUD."
He promptly buried his face in a couch cushion.
"That's it," Seonghwa announced, his composed facade finally cracking. "I'm going to meditate. Very intensely. With noise-canceling headphones."
"Can I join your meditation session?" Jongho asked hopefully.
"Absolutely not. Find your own coping mechanism."
As Seonghwa stalked toward his room, Jongho looked around the now mostly empty living room before grabbing the TV remote with grim determination.
"Action movies," he muttered to himself. "Very loud action movies. With explosions."
Wooyoung lifted his head from the cushion long enough to give him a thumbs up. "Good strategy. I'm going to lie here and contemplate the cruel irony of being surrounded by my mate's happiness while being unable to participate."
"You could go for a run too," Jongho suggested, turning the volume up considerably.
"And miss this?" Wooyoung gestured wildly toward the ceiling. "The mating habits of bookish alphas in their natural environment!"
"You're insane."
"I'm INVESTED in their relationship success!" Wooyoung declared, then immediately dove back into the cushions as another particularly clear sound drifted down. "But maybe also a little dead inside."
The opening explosions of Jongho's action movie filled the air, providing blessed auditory cover for whatever was happening upstairs. Both remaining alphas settled in for what was clearly going to be a very long evening of aggressive distraction techniques.
"Next time," Wooyoung said conversationally, his voice muffled by the cushion, "I'm investing in better soundproofing. For my mental health."
"Next time," Jongho replied, eyes fixed determinedly on the screen, "we're installing a separate wing for private time."
"With industrial-grade ventilation systems."
"And really, really loud ceiling fans."
Another explosion from the TV masked whatever response they might have heard from upstairs, and both alphas silently agreed that action movies would be their new favorite genre.
*****
Yeosang held you against his chest as the aftershocks faded, his hands gently smoothing over your bare back, breath syncing with yours as your heartbeat slowed. He brushed damp hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss there, lingering.
"Are you alright?" he whispered, voice worry-soft but full of awe, his thumb tracing slow, grounding circles along your spine.
"Mmm. Never better," you murmured, nuzzling into his shoulder, boneless and utterly safe. You could feel the smile against your hair as Yeosang wrapped both arms around you, cocooning you in warmth and careful strength.
He stayed quiet for a long moment, simply holding you close, his scent mingled with yours in the cool darkness. Then, softer still: "You're incredible. You know that, right?"
You managed a sleepy smile. "Only because you see me that way."
He let out a quiet laugh, so affectionate it warmed you from the inside out. "No—because that's exactly what you are. I… I've never felt this close to anyone."
You looked up, caught his gaze, and felt your heart stutter at the vulnerability there. "Me neither. I like… being yours, Yeosang."
His breath caught, the words hitting him somewhere deep. He answered with another gentle kiss, tender and slow, before tucking you back beneath the covers. "Rest, angel. I've got you."
You yawned, drifting as his fingers stroked lazy shapes along your skin. "Stay?"
"Always," he promised. And he did, until your eyelids fluttered shut, your breathing deep and soft, finally lulled to sleep in his arms.
Yeosang lay there a little longer, just listening to your quiet breaths, his hand protectively spanning your waist.
After a while, he slipped from the bed, dressing quietly. He hesitated in the soft light, smiling over your sleeping form—so peaceful, so wholly his. Then, padding softly down the hallway, he made his way to the kitchen, mind still humming with the memory of your touch, your scent, and the words you'd let him claim.
---
The living room was still glowing with the blue light of Jongho's action movie when Yeosang descended the stairs, though the volume had been mercifully lowered. Wooyoung was sprawled across one end of the couch, no longer hiding behind cushions but instead lounging with the satisfied air of someone who had thoroughly enjoyed the evening's entertainment. Jongho sat rigidly upright in his chair, determinedly focused on the screen where explosions continued to light up the night.
Both alphas' heads turned immediately when Yeosang appeared, their enhanced senses picking up the combined scents that clung to him—satisfaction, contentment, and the unmistakable proof of a thoroughly claimed omega.
Wooyoung's face immediately split into the most delighted grin Yeosang had ever seen.
"Well, well, well," Wooyoung practically purred, sitting up with theatrical slowness. "Look who's finally emerged from his literary den of passion."
Yeosang paused halfway to the kitchen, color rising to his cheeks as he realized there was no hiding what had transpired upstairs. "Wooyoung—"
"Oh no, don't 'Wooyoung' me," he interrupted with a dramatic wave of his hand. "I am LIVING for this character development. Quiet, bookish Yeosang discovers his inner alpha and claims his mate with such enthusiasm that half our pack fled the premises in terror."
Jongho made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh or a cry for help, his face turning steadily redder as he kept his eyes glued to the TV screen.
"You should be proud!" Wooyoung continued, hopping up from the couch to follow Yeosang into the kitchen. "I mean, the passion! The intensity! The way you just growled at me and dragged her upstairs like some kind of—"
"Please stop talking," Jongho called from the living room, his voice slightly higher than usual.
"Like some kind of romance novel alpha!" Wooyoung finished triumphantly, completely ignoring Jongho's plea. "I'm getting secondhand satisfaction just from witnessing your happiness. It's beautiful. Inspiring."
Yeosang had reached the refrigerator and was pulling out a bottle of water with hands that were definitely not shaking. "I just came down for water."
"Water," Wooyoung repeated with obvious amusement. "Yes, hydration is very important after such... vigorous literary discussions."
"Oh my god," came Jongho's mortified voice from the other room.
"What? I'm being supportive!" Wooyoung called back before turning his attention back to Yeosang, who was drinking water with the focused concentration of someone trying very hard to ignore the conversation happening around him.
"So," Wooyoung continued conversationally, hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter, "on a scale of one to ten, how completely ruined are you for anyone else? Because honestly, the scent of satisfied omega has been driving us all absolutely feral, and I'm just wondering if we should prepare for more emergency runs in the future."
Yeosang nearly choked on his water. "Wooyoung!"
"I'm asking the important questions! For pack management purposes! Seonghwa would want to know these things for schedule planning!"
Before Yeosang could formulate a response to that particular brand of logic, the front door opened and four very windswept alphas stumbled inside, clearly having run much further and harder than any sane person would on a casual evening jog.
Mingi collapsed against the door frame, Hongjoong on the couch, breathing hard. San bent over with his hands on his knees, while Yunho leaned against the wall looking like he'd just finished a marathon.
"Did we run enough?" Yunho panted. "Please tell me we ran enough."
Wooyoung leaned around the kitchen doorway to survey the returning runners with obvious delight. "Judging by the fact that you all look like you've been fleeing a natural disaster, I'd say you ran the appropriate amount."
"Is it safe?" San asked between breaths. "Are they... done?"
"Our darling Yeosang just came down for water," Wooyoung reported cheerfully. "Looking thoroughly satisfied and glowing with post-coital bliss. So yes, I'd say the immediate crisis has passed."
Hongjoong, who had maintained his composure better than the other three runners, straightened and fixed Wooyoung with a look. "Where's Y/n?"
"Sleeping peacefully upstairs," Yeosang answered quietly, his voice carrying a note of possessive satisfaction that made all the alphas in the room shift uncomfortably. "In my bed."
"Right," Hongjoong said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Okay. We need to... we need to figure something out. Because if every individual bonding session is going to affect the pack this intensely, we're all going to lose our minds."
"Agreed," Seonghwa's voice came from the stairs as he descended, looking like he'd just emerged from the most stressful meditation session of his life. "I could hear everything even with noise-canceling headphones."
"See?" Wooyoung said, gesturing broadly. "This is what I mean about the soundproofing. It's a real issue."
"It's not just the sound," Mingi said, finally catching his breath enough to speak properly. "It's the scent. The... energy. It's like the house itself was vibrating with satisfaction."
"Very poetic," Wooyoung observed.
Hongjoong looked around at his pack—exhausted from running, frazzled from failed meditation, and generally looking like they'd all been through some kind of ordeal—and made a decision.
"This can't continue," he said firmly. "We need a better solution than half the pack fleeing the house every time two of us are intimate."
"Actually," Wooyoung said, suddenly sitting up straighter with an expression that suggested he'd just had a revelation, "I have an idea."
"Oh no," Jongho muttered from the living room.
"No, hear me out," Wooyoung continued, hopping down from the counter with renewed energy. "The problem isn't that they're being intimate. The problem is that we're not bonded enough to handle it properly."
"What do you mean?" Seonghwa asked, though his tone suggested he suspected where this was going.
"I mean," Wooyoung said, spreading his arms as if the solution was obvious, "we complete the bond. All of us. Full mating claim."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Think about it," Wooyoung continued, apparently taking their stunned silence as encouragement. "Right now, we're all partially bonded but not claimed. So when two people are intimate, the rest of us feel left out, possessive, confused. But if we all have an equal claim, if we're all fully mated, then instead of feeling excluded, we'd feel... included. Like their happiness is our happiness."
"That's..." Yunho started, then stopped, clearly working through the logic.
"That's actually not completely insane," Hongjoong finished, sounding surprised.
"See?" Wooyoung beamed. "I have my moments of brilliance. We just need to make it official. Full pack bond, complete mating claim. Then instead of running away when two of us are together, we can all just bask in the collective satisfaction like a proper pack."
"You're suggesting we all mate with her," San said slowly, as if making sure he understood correctly.
"I'm suggesting we formalize what's already happening," Wooyoung corrected. "We're already her mates. The bonds are already there. We just need to make it official so our alphas stop freaking out every time someone else gets lucky."
Yeosang, who had been quietly listening to this entire exchange while leaning against the kitchen counter, finally spoke up. "She'd have to agree to it."
"Well, obviously," Wooyoung said with a dismissive wave. "We're not cavemen. But considering how happy she looked being thoroughly claimed by you tonight, I'm thinking she might be amenable to the idea."
"This is a huge decision," Hongjoong said seriously. "A full pack mating bond is... permanent. Life-changing. We can't just spring it on her because we're having trouble with jealousy."
"True," Wooyoung agreed. "But we also can't keep pretending this is a temporary arrangement. She's not going anywhere, we're not going anywhere, and our alphas are only going to get more possessive as time goes on. Better to deal with it properly now than wait until someone actually loses their mind."
The logic was sound, even if it was coming from Wooyoung in his typical dramatic fashion. Around the room, you could see the others processing the idea, weighing the implications.
"It would solve the territorial issues," Yunho said thoughtfully.
"And the scent confusion," Mingi added.
"Plus," Wooyoung said with a grin, "think of how happy she'd be. Eight alphas all officially, completely devoted to her happiness and satisfaction. What omega wouldn't want that?"
"We'd need to discuss it with her properly," Seonghwa said, his practical mind already working through the logistics. "Make sure she understands what it means, what we're offering."
"And that she wants it," Hongjoong added firmly. "This only works if everyone is completely willing."
"Oh, she wants it," Wooyoung said with complete confidence. "Trust me. I have excellent instincts about these things."
"Your instincts once told you that putting pineapple on pizza was a good idea," Jongho called from the living room.
"That was completely different!" Wooyoung protested. "And pineapple pizza is delicious! Don't change the subject!"
Despite the teasing, the idea was taking root. You could see it in their faces—the possibility of finally formalizing what they all felt, of creating a bond that would make sense of the complex emotions and territorial instincts they'd been struggling with.
"So," Hongjoong said slowly, "we talk to her. All of us. Make sure she understands what we're offering and what it would mean."
"And if she says yes?" San asked.
Hongjoong looked around at his pack—exhausted, confused, but unified in their love for you and their desire to build something lasting together.
"If she says yes," he said finally, "then we give her everything. Complete devotion, full claim, the kind of bond that legends are made of."
"Perfect," Wooyoung said with satisfaction. "Operation Claim Our Omega is officially a go."
"We are not calling it that," Seonghwa said immediately.
"Operation Formalize Our Feelings?"
"No."
"The Great Mating Initiative?"
"Absolutely not."
"Fine," Wooyoung sighed dramatically. "But when this works and we're all blissfully happy and properly bonded, I want full credit for the brilliant idea."
"You'll get credit," Hongjoong assured him with a small smile. "Assuming she says yes."
"She'll say yes," Wooyoung said with complete confidence. "Trust me. I know our omega. She wants this just as much as we do."
Looking around the room at seven alphas who were all nodding in agreement, Yeosang couldn't help but think that Wooyoung might actually be right for once. The bond was already there—they just needed to make it official.
And judging by the way you'd responded to him tonight, the way you'd surrendered so completely to being claimed and cherished, he had a feeling you'd be more than ready to take that final step with all of them.
"Tomorrow," Hongjoong decided. "We talk to her tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," the others agreed, and for the first time all evening, the house felt peaceful again—filled with anticipation rather than frustration, hope rather than confusion.
Tomorrow, they'd offer you everything. And hopefully, you'd say yes.
——
After the pack meeting concluded, Yeosang had quietly made his way back upstairs, his heart full of anticipation for what tomorrow might bring. The house had finally settled into peaceful quiet, the earlier chaos replaced by hopeful planning and shared understanding.
He slipped back into his room to find you exactly as he'd left you—curled up in his bed, breathing softly, looking utterly content in the cocoon of his sheets that now smelled like both of you. The sight made something warm and possessive unfurl in his chest.
Carefully, so as not to wake you, Yeosang undressed and slid back under the covers, immediately pulling you against his chest. You stirred slightly, a soft sound of contentment escaping your lips as you instinctively nestled closer to his warmth.
"Yeosang?" you murmured sleepily, not quite awake but sensing his presence.
"I'm here," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair. "Go back to sleep, angel."
You hummed in response, your arm sliding around his waist as you settled back into deep sleep. Yeosang lay there for a long time, just holding you, his mind drifting between memories of the evening and anticipation of the conversation they'd have with you tomorrow. Eventually, lulled by your steady breathing and the rightness of having you in his arms, he drifted off to sleep.
---
You woke slowly, consciousness returning gradually as you became aware of the warm body pressed against your back, the strong arm wrapped securely around your waist, and the familiar scent of bergamot and books that could only belong to Yeosang. A smile tugged at your lips as memories of the previous evening came flooding back—the bookstore, the ride home, the way he'd claimed you so thoroughly that you'd fallen asleep still trembling with satisfaction.
You were just beginning to stretch languidly in his arms when you became aware of another presence in the room. Opening your eyes fully, you found yourself staring directly into Wooyoung's bright, mischievous face. He was lying on his side on top of the covers, his head propped up on his hand, watching you with obvious delight.
The moment your eyes focused on him, his face split into the most ridiculous grin and he gave you a slow, exaggerated eyebrow wiggle that was so absurdly theatrical you couldn't help but burst into giggles.
"Good morning, Tulip," Wooyoung said cheerfully, his voice pitched just loud enough to wake the alpha behind you. "Sleep well? Dream of anything... educational?"
Behind you, Yeosang's arm tightened protectively around your waist as he was pulled from sleep by your laughter and Wooyoung's voice. A low groan rumbled from his chest as he realized what was happening.
"Wooyoung," Yeosang's voice was rough with sleep and exasperation, "what are you doing in my bed?"
"Technically, I'm on top of your bed, not in it," Wooyoung replied with mock seriousness. "Very important distinction. I'm respecting boundaries while also being adorably intrusive."
"How long have you been watching us sleep?" you asked, still giggling at his antics while trying to pull the sheet higher to maintain some modesty.
"Oh, only about ten minutes," Wooyoung said with a dismissive wave. "And I wasn't watching you sleep, I was waiting for you to wake up. Much less creepy."
"It's literally the same thing," Yeosang pointed out, though his tone had shifted from exasperation to fond amusement as your continued giggles made it impossible to stay truly annoyed.
"Semantics," Wooyoung dismissed airily. "The point is, I bring news! Important pack business! Time-sensitive information!"
"What time is it?" Yeosang asked, reaching blindly for his phone on the nightstand.
"Time for a pack meeting!" Wooyoung announced before Yeosang could find his phone. "Everyone's gathering downstairs to discuss very important matters that definitely cannot wait for you two to finish your post-coital cuddle session."
"Post-coital?" you repeated with a laugh, your cheeks flushing at his blunt terminology.
"Very fancy words for someone who couldn't spell 'sophisticated' last week," Yeosang observed dryly.
"Hey! I've been expanding my vocabulary!" Wooyoung protested. "Seonghwa gave me a word-a-day calendar. Very educational. Yesterday's word was 'perspicacious.'"
"Do you know what it means?" you asked with amusement.
"Having keen insight," Wooyoung replied promptly, then grinned. "And perspicaciously speaking, I can tell that you two had a very good time last night based on the way you're both glowing and the fact that your scents are so mixed together I can't tell where one ends and the other begins."
Yeosang made a sound that was half groan, half laugh. "You're impossible."
"Impossibly charming," Wooyoung corrected. "Now come on, pack meeting time! Everyone's waiting!"
"Can't the pack meeting wait until we're dressed?" you asked reasonably.
Wooyoung's grin turned absolutely wicked. "Clothing optional, actually. Very progressive of us, don't you think?"
"Absolutely not," Yeosang said immediately, his arm tightening around you possessively. "You can wait downstairs while we get dressed."
"But I'm comfortable here," Wooyoung whined, making himself more comfortable on the bed. "Besides, after last night's audio-visual experience, I think we're all past the point of being shy around each other."
"Audio-visual experience?" you squeaked, your face turning an even deeper shade of red.
"Oh yes," Wooyoung said with obvious delight. "The whole house got a very thorough education in the mating habits of of you two. Very informative. Jongho nearly had a heart attack."
"Oh my god," you groaned, burying your face in your hands.
"Don't be embarrassed!" Wooyoung said quickly, his tone shifting to something more genuinely reassuring. "It was beautiful! Inspiring! The scent of happy omega had us all practically floating on clouds of secondhand satisfaction!"
"That's not helping," Yeosang pointed out, though he was rubbing soothing circles on your back.
"I'm being supportive about your romantic success!"
"You're being a menace," Yeosang corrected, but his tone was fond. "Now get out so we can get dressed for this pack meeting."
"Fine, fine," Wooyoung sighed dramatically, rolling off the bed with exaggerated reluctance. "But first..."
Before either you or Yeosang could react, Wooyoung was leaning over you, his hand gently cupping your face as he pressed his lips to yours. What started as what you expected to be a playful peck transformed into something deeper, more intense. His mouth moved against yours with surprising tenderness, passionate yet reverent, as if he was pouring all of his affection for you into the contact.
Your head spun from the sudden shift, the unexpected intimacy making your heart race and your omega purr with delight. Without conscious thought, your hand reached up to fist in his shirt, trying to pull him closer, your omega instincts suddenly demanding more contact, more connection with this alpha who was kissing you like you were something precious.
"Wooyoung," you breathed against his lips, your voice carrying a note of need that made both alphas in the room go very still.
Wooyoung pulled back slowly, his eyes dark with desire but also filled with such tender affection it made your chest tight. "Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, his thumb stroking across your cheek before he straightened up.
Behind you, Yeosang's arm had tightened possessively around your waist, though his expression showed more understanding than jealousy as he watched the exchange.
"Now that," Wooyoung said with a satisfied grin, though his voice was slightly rougher than usual, "was a proper good morning. Much better than my eyebrow wiggle, don't you think?"
You could only stare at him, still slightly dazed from the kiss and the way your omega had responded so immediately to his touch.
"You're definitely a menace," Yeosang said, but there was warmth in his voice as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, grounding you.
"But I'm your menace," Wooyoung replied cheerfully, heading for the door. "Now seriously, get dressed. Important pack business waits for no one, not even thoroughly satisfied mates who've just been properly kissed."
He paused at the threshold to look back with a grin that was somehow both mischievous and genuinely happy.
"For what it's worth," he said, his voice losing some of its theatrical edge, "you two look really happy together. It's nice seeing our quiet alpha finally getting properly appreciated."
The genuine warmth in his words made your heart flutter, and you saw Yeosang's expression soften considerably.
"Thank you, Wooyoung," you said sincerely.
"Don't mention it. Now seriously, get dressed. Hongjoong's already on his second cup of coffee, which means he's reached maximum leader patience levels."
With that warning, Wooyoung disappeared down the hallway, his cheerful humming fading as he made his way back downstairs.
"He's absolutely insane," Yeosang said with a mixture of exasperation and affection.
"But he's our insane," you replied, turning in his arms to face him properly. "And he's right—we should probably get downstairs before Hongjoong reaches his limit."
"Probably," Yeosang agreed, though he made no move to let you go. Instead, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Good morning, by the way."
"Good morning," you replied with a smile that was pure contentment. "Last night was..."
"Perfect," he finished for you, his own smile soft and satisfied. "Absolutely perfect."
"Now come on," you said, reluctantly pulling away from his warmth. "Let's go see what this mysterious pack meeting is about."
As you both began the process of finding clothes and making yourselves presentable, you couldn't help but wonder what could be so important that it required an immediate pack meeting. But judging by Wooyoung's excitement and the way he'd talked about "important pack business," you had a feeling it was going to be something significant.
"Ready?" Yeosang asked, holding out his hand once you were both dressed.
"Ready," you confirmed, taking his hand and letting him lead you toward whatever awaited you downstairs.
Though judging by the butterflies in your stomach and the anticipation in Yeosang's eyes, you suspected your life was about to change in a very big way.
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Can you do one where Paul or Embry accidentally walks in on one of the wolves getting it on, but when the girl looks up they imprint? It kinda blows up right in Emily’s house considering it was happening upstairs and the wolf gets jealous of his new imprint literally being intimate with another guy in front of him.
Thanks! 🌸🌸
haha sure this is an interesting idea ! hope you enjoy :)
perfect stranger - paul lahote x reader
Tugging on your hand in his large but warm hand, Embry’s kind eyes that made your heart stop, encouraged you to come along.
A summer get together was happening at his friend Emily’s home.
“Her fiancé installed a new pool.”
That’s what had you sold.
Things were okay between you two. It started casual, a fun night out after meeting at a sports bar. He was funny and kind. Being in his company was nice.
“We can see how things go.” Was what you said one night. You found yourself wanting to be around him more and more, not even caring if you two didn’t have sex.
“Okay. You want to put a label on it?” He asked softly with hope.
You pondered about it for a moment.
“Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?” You replied. He smiled at that sentence.
You were touched that he wanted to bring you around people he seemed to care about.
He opened the front door, coming in as if he lived there. The woman directing a brawny boy to carry a cooler outside was standing with her hands on her hips, turning around to see who entered her home.
Her smile broke out as she greeted you both.
“Embry. Who’s this?”
“Y/N. Y/N, this is Emily.”
“Hey. Nice place.” You compliment.
“Thanks! You’ll love the new pool way more.”
This made you smile.
“Where’s your swim suit?” Emily asks.
“Oh. In my bag in the trunk.” You answered, you couldn’t believe you left it.
“Alright, I’ll grab it.” Embry says as he walks off.
“And Y/N, feel free to change in the bathroom- I even have a guest room that you can go in if someone’s using the bathroom.”
“Cool. Thanks so much.” You replied, and just then Emily leaves off, closing the backdoor behind her. Embry comes in with your bag and guides you to the bathroom.
The bathroom fan was on, ventilating the room. Embry shut the door behind him as you immediately was staring at yourself in the mirror, peeling off your shirt to reveal your bare chest.
His hands place on your bare shoulders and you look in the reflection to see his mischievous smile. It made you break out a smile.
Hands shoved in his sport shorts, Paul moved his long legs towards the small cozy home.
Earlier during patrol, Sam insisted that Paul should show his face, claiming that Emily missed him. He didn’t understand it. He liked to stay out of the way. What Emily missed about him, he just didn’t know.
He heard the commotion around the back of the home. Hearing the splashes and screams of glee as he moved closer.
Entering the home, taking a break from the beating sun, he helped himself in the fridge, cracking open a can of cold soda.
He stood at the sink, not wanting to leave to go outside yet. Crushing his can, he made his way upstairs to the bathroom.
As he stood at the toilet, the sound of urination echoed the bathroom and he flushed.
As he came out of the hallway, he heard noises. A mixture of a soft sigh and a low chuckle. Curiously, he inched closer to the sound. The crack of the door allowed him to see the activity.
Embry has you lifted, your arms were around his neck as Paul saw perfect view of your face. He was never a peeping Tom, he just couldn’t bring himself to walk away, walk away from the sight of you.
Pleasure was on your face as your eyes were cracked shut with your mouth slightly opened. He knew very well that he could’ve done a better job at making you feel pleasure. You wouldn’t have been this quiet. Your quiet moans that he was able to pick up with his sensitive ears, he felt that they were too pretty to be quiet. He hadn’t seen you around before. To have some type of mystery in his life, he didn’t mind. He didn’t know what your favorite color was, he didn’t know what made you cry and what made you laugh. In his mind, you were the perfect stranger. He was about to back away, that’s when your eyes opened. They were hooded, but he felt that they were beautiful as they looked into his.
His world stopped. He couldn’t move. You were trapped in his eyes as you stared at the handsome face that watched you be in a bear hug from Embry.
Paul’s wolf growled lowly and dangerously. It trickled out of his mouth. You felt like you were cheating on someone and Embry was confused by your paused response.
“Y/N…Whats wrong?”
You only push him away, stumbling away from him. Paul backed away some from the doorway, hearing Embry asking you again what’s wrong.
Paul rested his back against the hallway wall as his fists were clenched. His wolf howled with claim of you. Another man, another wolf, had their hands on you. That’s supposed to be him. He was supposed to make you feel tingles from the top of your head to the balls of your feet.
Embry followed you out of the room after you speedily adjusted your swim suit. Embry stopped in his tracks when he saw Paul in the hallway. So did you.
Paul glared at Embry as if he personally offended him.
“What the fuck, Paul? You were watching?” Embry raised his arms a bit, furrowing his eyebrows.
That was his name.
Paul.
You mentally tucked it in your brain to remember it.
“I was not watching. Sam’s gonna be pissed that you were fucking in his house.” Paul threw out. Fucking someone who is his imprint.
“What’s it to you?”
“Everything.” Paul says as he gets more and more agitated.
Embry scoffed and took your hand. You watch Paul’s eyes look down at the joined hands and you take it out of his, putting it a bit behind your back. Paul smirked at Embry’s hurt expression.
Embry was always observant, he saw the way Paul looked at you. How he stripped you with only his eyes.
“She’s my girlfriend. Mind your business.” Embry warned.
Twenty four hours earlier, you would’ve been beaming and jumping at the sound of Embry claiming you, but it felt wrong. All wrong.
Paul didn’t like the sound of the word “my” coming out of Embry’s mouth. It sounded wrong. All wrong.
That’s when, Paul shoved Embry. Hard.
“Yeah. Fucking your girlfriend in someone else’s house, real fucking romantic. What happened to a real date?” Paul bitterly spoke out with an expression that was scowled.
Embry shoved him back, Paul’s back hit the wall. Paul huffed as they both lunged for each other.
You gasp with widened eyes as they both tackled each other. Jumping over them, you ran down the stairs. Searching for anybody in the backyard, you scream out.
“Embry is upstairs fighting with…Paul.” You say and you pause after saying Paul’s name. It sounded graceful from your lips. You barely registered people getting up and running past you to meet where they were.
You heard yelling and commotion from the home. Emily gives you a concerned look. You look down, feeling to be cause of such brawl but, you couldn’t find a reason to blame yourself.
Embry stormed out soon enough, grabbing your hand. His eyes were hardened.
“We’re leaving.”
“We just got here.” You say as you felt a bit sad, you wanted to stay. You felt like you needed to stay.
“Don’t grab her like that. She’s my imprint.” You heard a deep voice bell out.
You didn’t know what an imprint was. But, you did know, it had something to do with Paul.
A burst of butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you grew hot in the face. Paul had his arms crossed, looking deeply disapproving of the joined hands. You slipped your hand back out of Embry’s hand.
“She’s not! It’s a mistake!” Embry exclaimed with great frustration.
“Our spirit warriors make no mistake.” Paul says in a taunting manner. Embry clench his jaw as you move away from Embry, Paul stepping closer.
“Stay. Away. From. Her.” Embry threatened.
“How about you stay away from her.” Paul threatened back, taking menacing steps towards him. The spike of excitement within you was shameful, but you forgot to soak in the shame.
A man, older than them all, stopped the man named Paul. He had his hand on his chest and that’s when Paul paused his steps, but didn’t pause his glare. The mature man thrusted his thumb behind himself, gesturing towards the home.
“Embry, how about you take a breather.” He suggested.
“Sam-”
“Take a breather. Then, come back.” but the way that the man named Sam had said it, did not leave it open for no discussion.
“Y/N, how about we take a dip in the pool?” Emily came over to encourage, trying to lighten the mood up. The other boys were making their way back to the pool. One boy flipped into the pool and the other one resumed the upbeat music.
“Sure.” You answer quietly as you let her link your arm with yours.
You look behind yourself as you walked towards the pool that contained pool toys and activities. Embry glared at Paul before entering back into the home.
Paul looked at you as if it was his duty to make sure nothing happened to you. You felt like you were floating. It felt like time had stopped and you didn’t want to ever go back to before, when things were normal. You wanted this to be your new normal. You wanted to uncover the deep mystery with this man named Paul. You wanted to let him know that he was worth it. That he deserved you. That he was the perfect stranger.
#twilight saga#paul lahote x y/n#paul lahote x you#paul lahote imagine#y/n#fanfic#twilight#twilight wolfpack#twilight wolves#x reader#paul lahote#paul lahote fanfic#paul lahote x reader
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𝐯𝐢 | 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍
— CW ; A little bit of teen awkwardness.
— Synopsis ; Hiccup begins to garner his villages attention when the finals of dragon training come through, but he’s more focused on instead improving his bond with both Toothless and (Name). The both of them rarely spend time in the village, and encounter a few problems when Hiccup is learning to fly.
— Word Count ; 12025
Masterlist | CHAPTER XII — TBA
ᛊᚨᚠᚾᚨ ᛗᚨᚾᚠᛃᛟᛚᚦᚢᛗ
Metal clattered against stone in a loud crack of noise as a small trap door was shut, the swing of the hinge creaking as it swayed before a boot was placed upon it, effectively ceasing its movement. The leather held the dog-sized door down, and Hiccup looked up from the crusted surface, turning back to the amazed group behind him.
The Terrible Terror he'd just trapped made chitters from behind where it was now stuck again, showing off his feat. Those around stared at the boy with wonder, with only two exceptions being amongst the crowd. Astrid, who glared at him as if she wanted to gut him, and (Name), who smiled at him with a large grin, as she knew the origins of his trick.
It was a simple tactic, one they'd used on Toothless, and Hiccup had decided to mimic it in the ring. Using the metal ball in his shields centre, Hiccup had cast a tiny dot onto the floor like magic. The refracted light drew the small dragons attention, and just as Toothless had, it chased after it, crawling across the floor to retrieve the glowing spot.
With this, Hiccup had managed to coerce the dragon back into its cage, and now, he held his boot against the door to keep it inside, ending the training with one move and a cheeky grin.
"Woah— that was so cool!" Tuffnut jumped up, a large wicked grin cast across his face. The boy was uncharacteristically excited in the aftermath of the displayed skills, and understandably, the rest of the group had a flicker of surprise cross their faces, before divulging into different thought processes.
Hiccup — now swarmed by a group of four — was startled by the attention, his eyes rounding in a childish way and his own shoulders shrinking on their own. It was a sudden change, one that had been spurred into movement by the acquiring of skills. Fishlegs, the twins and Snotlout all crowded around the small boy, flocking like birds to seed.
"Yeah dude, I've never seen anyone do that! How'd you figure that out!?" Snotlout questioned, his voice filled with an unexpected tinge of both wonder and adoration. It was... a stark contrast from the norm, to say the very least. Hiccup's eyes roved the four surrounding him, before they peered through the gaps of their bodies to spot Astrid retreating and (Name) coming over to join the huddled crowd.
"That was really cool. I think so at least," (Name) spilled, initiating a throttle of compliments fuelled by her own, all directed towards Hiccup, not to mention questions following alongside.
"I didn't know Terrible Terrors were attracted to light... how did you figure it out!?" Fishlegs gaped in disbelief.
"You've gotta teach me that one," Snotlout placed a firm hand on the smaller boy's shoulder, the action intimate— almost something two close friends would do when joking around with one another. Hiccup cringed at the tight hold as Hiccup squeezed his shoulders.
"I uh— I'll tell you guys all about it while we leave," Hiccup smiled sheepishly, slipping himself out of Snotlout's hold and purposefully slinking through the gaps in the crowd to quickly speed towards the arenas exit. Of course, the others followed him— still pestering him with questions even as they exited the ring.
Bombarding queries followed him, landing somewhere along the lines of...
"I didn't read that in the book of dragons... how'd you find that out?!"
"Did you guess it? Or did you secretly take down a Terrible Terror!?"
"Come on Hiccup— tell us! I wanna do that, it was so cool!"
They kept smothering the smaller of the lot, even as they began to walk across the bridge back to the mainland of Berk— where Hiccup suddenly stopped walking, a crooked smile forming on his face awkwardly.
"Uhm... I uh, left my axe back in the ring. But— I'll tell you guys all about it at dinner!" Hiccup suddenly cleared his throat, taking a step backwards as a few curious glances trailed behind him. Yet, they didn't have time to linger for long as Hiccup suddenly turned tail and ran, rushing back to 'grab his axe'.
(Name) watched him with a curious eye, almost falling for the same bluff before she caught onto the underlying meaning. 'Back in the ring', while usable as a term to refer to the arena, between the two, it meant the ring of walls that surrounded Toothless in the cove.
Ah, he was trying to slip away, albeit rather sloppily.
(Name) cast a glance back at the others, clearing her throat. "Ah, I'll go help him find it. Y'know how clumsy Hiccup can be when he misplaces things..? Right?" She sheepishly smiled, taking her own few steps back before waving and turning around into her own sprint across the slippery wooden boards of the bridge.
Snotlout blinked, his eyebrow raising.
Ruffnut placed her hands on her hips, a slight pout forming. "Awh... I wanted to get private lessons from (Name)," she whined, crying to the others surrounding her. They turned to her with curious gazes.
"What?" She snapped, defensively huffing in their direction.
"You guys didn't know? That's obviously why Hiccup is getting so good and they've both been gone together! She's obviously teaching him how to kill dragons!" Ruffnut pointed out, clicking her finger in the direction of the constantly disappearing duo.
"I thought Hiccup just had cancer," Tuffnut shrugged.
"Why on earth would he have cancer?!" Snotlout shook his head, smacking Tuffnut harshly upside the head.
"Ow! Hey— that hurt," Tuffnut stumbled back, one hand coming up to clutch his now reddening chin as the blood rushed to the injured area. "..."
"Do it again."
"You're such a weirdo—" Snotlout gagged, sneering at Tuffnut as he pleaded for Snotlout to hit him once more.
.
"Hiccup, please never get kidnapped and interrogated."
"...uh, I wasn't planning on it?" Hiccup turned to the girl who walked side by side with him, his brows twitching at the sudden plea from her end of the conversation. "Why... is this being brought up?" He cocked his head, his question laced with an uncertainty.
(Name) sighed, her eyes rolling instinctively before she craned her neck to look at Hiccup. "Because, you're a terrible liar," she pointed out, jutting a finger loosely at his chest, her hand just barely brushing the fur of his vest.
" 'I left my axe back in the ring'. What kind of excuse is that? I told my mother better lies whenever I ate all the dessert," she snorted, retracting her hand to cross it over her chest.
"Well— it's all I could think of! Plus, the only one smart enough there to get suspicious is Fishlegs, and he probably wouldn't care that much anyway," Hiccup shrugged, pursing his lips and facing forwards again.
"It was still dumb. At least try to make it believable next time," she huffed, shrugging her shoulders.
"Okay— what would you say then?" Hiccup looked to her from his peripheral.
"...that's a really good question," she pressed her lips into a thin line.
"See! Even you can't think of anything!" He elbowed her— yet not in the manner as if he were retaliating against someone who'd insulted him, rather in the way that two friends would casually play-fight with one another. A childishly intimate touch that didn't quite register as what it was intended to be.
"Well I'd be able to think of something, just give me a second," she elbowed him back, her action holding the same unsaid fondness his did.
"..."
"One—"
"No!" (Name) suddenly twisted on her heel, slapping her hand over his mouth in a rush, causing both of them to stop in the middle of a few brambles.
"Don't even start," she hissed, trying to hold an intimidating glance, yet accidentally letting the smallest slink of a grin slip through her irritated facade.
Hiccup reached up a hand, gripping her wrist and attempting to pry it from his mouth. "Mmh—!" Whatever cries he tried to reason with became muffled, the both of them determined to keep their stances.
"You lost your speaking privileges mister!" (Name) proclaimed, her declaration firm as a small laugh slipped through her voice, the smaller slink of joy being a dead giveaway to the less intense gravity of the moment.
"You don't get them back until— eww!" (Name) suddenly reeled her hand back as if she'd been stung, immediately wiping her palm off on her clothes with a sneer, her nose turning upwards in disgust.
"Did you just lick me!?" She gasped, staring at Hiccup with wide eyes.
"You wouldn't let go," Hiccup shrugged, turning away and beginning to walk forwards once more.
"You're disgusting," she grumbled, wiping her hand again as she came to join him in their trek through the forest once again.
"I wouldn't be disgusting if you didn't stop me from speaking," Hiccup chimed back.
(Name) rolled her eyes again.
"Okay mr. Sassy," she mocked, shaking her head and pressing her lips down again.
Silence rained down, only the soft sound of icicles chiming against one another as they swayed on the edges of leaves filling the quiet.
The day was peaceful, snow covering the ground at a comfortable height and the sky clear of clouds, the cold of the wind swept up from the ground being cancelled out by the sun that beamed down.
It was warm, and the birds seemed to think so too as more seemed to appear. Some danced from branch to branch, chirping their songs— others perched on leaves and simply sat in a heavy spot of sun, basking themselves as they puffed up their feathers.
The snow beneath the duos feet crunched softly, some stray rocks that were buried beneath the layer of frost cracking under the pressure with every footfall.
"I'm gonna beat you there," (Name) suddenly said— and at the same time she rushed forwards, her feet heavy against the slippery ground as she darted past Hiccup, intending to make it to the cove before he did.
Hiccup jolted as (Name) rushed past him in a blur, her declaration taking a few moments to settle and process in his mind. He spluttered for a second, watching her figure grow father before spurring himself into a run right behind her.
He wasn't one to be competitive, since he'd usually lose at whatever he tried to compete in, but what was the harm in a little race on some slippery ice? Nothing!
"Get back here!" Hiccup couldn't help the small smile that crawled onto his face as he raced after (Name), his own legs, while being short, moved rather fast against the slippery ground of melted and slushing ice grains.
"Nuh uh! I'm beating you! Why would I slow down!" (Name) shouted at him without looking back, her own pace continuing even as her breath grew raggedy within the icy tipped air, the back of her mouth burning with every inhale.
Hiccup narrowed his eyes, his jaw gritting as he realised that he wasn't keeping pace all too well.
"Oh— come on! Woah— wait! Ow!" Hiccup cursed as his boot caught on a stray branch, causing him to go sprawling forwards onto the ground, hard. He landed with a heavy thud, wincing and reaching for his ankle.
"Ow..." he hissed again, pushing himself to sit up as he glanced down towards his foot. On the outside, it didn't seem all too bad.
Though, up ahead, (Name) had heard his call— and she glanced back, still not slowing her pace, yet upon spotting the sight of a collapse Hiccup, snow covering his clothes from where he tumbled, she slowed, considering whether or not this was a trick.
"You okay?" She called, wondering if he was just playing with her.
Hiccup didn't answer back, far too busy focusing on staring at his ankle— which didn't look that bad from afar, but then again... if Hiccup did actually injure himself, that wouldn't really be good for anyone.
Bitting her tongue, (Name) turned to jog back over to where Hiccup had fallen, crouching down beside him.
"You okay?" She peered over him, glancing down towards where he clutched at his leg. Again, she wasn't a medical expert of any sorts, only knowing the basics of how to heal a common cold, but his leg looked fine.
"No, I think I—" Hiccup's hands retreated from his leg. "Sprained my ankle!" He suddenly shouted, his form springing up with momentum he gained from pushing (Name) over into the snow, face first.
She yelped as he landed into the snow, quickly pulling herself back up as she heard the sound of Hiccup sprinting away quickly. She wiped snow from her face, the cold stinging her skin painfully.
"You little—" she craned her neck, seeing the large head start Hiccup had gained. She couldn't let him gain any further ground. Quickly pushing herself up without a care for the snow hugging her, she slipped her first few steps before starting up in a sprint after the running boy.
"That's cheating!" She cried as she chased after him.
"I didn't know there were any rules!" Hiccup laughed, smiling triumphantly as he saw the cove up ahead, quickly shifting his course so that he swiftly slipped through the rocks opening and tumbled to the coves insides.
Behind him, (Name) followed quickly after, a defeated slump to her shoulders as she joined him in the coves belly.
"Looks like I win," Hiccup boasted with a crooked smirk.
"You only won because you cheated," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away from him pettily.
"It's not cheating if it wasn't specified that I couldn't do it," Hiccup shrugged nonchalantly, still prideful over his win against her.
"Yes it is—" (Name) turned back to him, only to be tackled by a black blur. She cried as she was suddenly crushed by an eight-hundred kilogram dragon. The onyx scaled animal rested atop her, saddle still strapped to his back.
"Toothless, hey!" She wheezed, a small smile cracking on her face as Toothless greeted her with a hard tackle, the dragon clearly happy to see her back. Toothless sniffed her, his pupils wide as he decided to lay down full fully, encapsulating (Name) in a hug of his own.
Hiccup watched the scene with shock, jaw dropped as he saw his 'own' dragon choose to greet (Name) instead of him. "Toothless! What is this favouritism!" Hiccup pouted, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowled.
"I'm just better, suck on that," (Name) stuck her tongue out at him, a teasing look on her face as she happily returned Toothless' affections with scratches on the scales under his many ear plates.
Toothless rumbled, and in his moment of joy another figure joined the fray. Tiny and blue, yet much bigger than when she'd first appeared from the shells of an egg. Shocker crawled out from under Toothless' tucked wing, coming to join the hug.
(Name) smiled as her own companion came to join the 'group' hug. "Hello to you too Shocker, did you guys miss me?" She held a purposefully gleeful smile, seeing the pouty stance of Hiccup who still stood off to the side with crossed arms.
"I feel like this is targeted," Hiccup grumbled, shifting his weight to one foot.
"No, it's karma. Big difference," (Name) hummed from her spot on the floor, hugging both dragons as best as she could from her compromised position.
"It wasn't cheating! You're just easy to fool," Hiccup turned, forcibly staring out over the frosted lake that the cove held in its grasp. The foliage that had once surrounded it was now gone, reduced to sodden ashes in the midst of Berk's cold.
When Hiccup had first found this place, with Toothless trapped in the middle— which just so happened to be... almost a month ago — it was blooming with a brimming green, brambles sprouting outwards from crevices and fish swimming leisurely beneath the waters surface, oblivious to the shadow that lurked above.
Now, it was decked with snow, leaves fallen and twigs dried with ice as if it had almost been frozen in time. The fish were no longer clearly visible from the surface, and a soft breeze would occasionally sweep in to brush against Hiccup when the ocean rocked in the distance.
"Okay, Toothless I actually need to get up now— the snow is soaking my clothes," (Name's) voice called Hiccup's attention, causing the boy to turn back as he saw her attempting to wriggle from it from beneath Toothless.
Toothless huffed through his nose, yet the dragon reluctantly lifted himself from the girl beneath him and trotted away, the tiny little blue Shocker still clinging to his back.
(Name) wiped the snow from her clothes, dusting herself off before glancing back to Hiccup. "You gonna stop sulking?" She quirked a brow.
"I'm not sulking," Hiccup denied, shrugging his shoulders.
"You so are! You're just mad Toothless loves me more," again with the teasing, (Name) felt the need to garner anything over Hiccup after her loss. She wasn't willing to end on an uneven note.
"He doesn't love you more. I'm the one who flies with him. Plus, he'll probably love me even more after today," Hiccup snorted.
"Oh yeah? Why's that? You got some treats for him or something? Gonna bribe your own dragon?"
"No. I'm going to try flying without the rope," Hiccup reached into the inside of his vest, removing a small parchment he'd tucked inside and holding it up once he'd fished it out.
It was worn and old, just like all other paper on Berk, some drops of some kind of liquid lingering on the paper, likely originating from when the paper was originally made— but the contents written onto the paper were more intriguing then its state of being.
Charcoal had been nearly sketched, smudged and blended together to form what seemed to be a diagram of some kind, different columns and rows all holding a drawing of what seemed to be Toothless' mechanical tail fin in different states. Some with one fin closed, others with both open:
(Name) had seen this paper before, Hiccup had invented it after struggling to figure out how to operate Toothless' tail— only now, Hiccup revealed it along with a proclamation, a clear determination lingering within the small yet daring boy.
Contemplative silence stewed, one that had (Name) scrutinising Hiccup for seconds as she processed what he'd just stated her attempt.
"Already? You've only been flying for just over a week, don't you think you should practice a little more?" She narrowed her eyes, seeming unsure about the prospect.
Her lips twisted downwards into a frown, an obvious worry and unsettling sensation coursing through her as she thought about the dangers that may lurk higher up in the sky where the clouds called home.
What if he fell? What if the tail suddenly stopped working? It's not as if she doubted Hiccup's smith abilities, it was more so she doubted the safety of being thousands of yaks high into the air.
What if he got flown into the sun by Toothless? What if Toothless decided to fly him off the edge of the world—? That would mean she'd never see Hiccup again! And that he'd die... she couldn't accept that happening, as much as she'd keep it to herself.
"I'll be fine, plus... I think I've gotten pretty good at controlling Toothless' tail fin," Hiccup shrugged, sureness practically oozing off of him. He sure was determined to get out there on the actual open skies instead of lurking above a cliffs surface.
A fools errand in (Name's) opinion.
"Well— just do one more flight test above the cliff before you do. What if the tail stops working?" (Name) ushered, nodding up to the crevice of where the coves exit lie.
"It'll be fine," Hiccup tried to protest again, but a stern glare of crossed arms from (Name) made him close his mouth with a dejected sigh.
"Fine... I'll do one more flight test," Hiccup muttered, glancing over his shoulder to see Toothless lying down again.
"Toothless! Time to practice flying again!"
At the word 'flying', Toothless' head shot up, that word being one that he'd come to recognise and associate with stretching his very own wings and being able to feel the breeze between his scales again. Toothless jolted up roughly, almost knocking Shocker from his back in the process of running over to Hiccup.
Hiccup almost snorted at the 'charming' display.
"Yeah bud, calm down... now, let's go," Hiccup waved them both after him as he went first towards the crevice, slipping through it easily— both (Name) and Toothless following behind him.
.
"Okay... just one more test," Hiccup nodded from the back of Toothless, sending a glance over to (Name) — who was currently cradling Shocker in her arms again as she watched Hiccup with a careful eye — then making sure the rope was properly secured to Toothless' saddle.
He checked the coils; the wires, anything he could check up on at all— he checked it, at (Name's) demanded request of course. He himself wasn't too worried about the tail failing, more than informed enough about his own mechanism, but she had practically forced him to do one more trial one before becoming 'suicidal', as she'd put it.
The leather was still in shape, and all the metal parts were still sliding smoothly between their conjoined counterparts— the saddle and tail fin wouldn't likely need a tuning for another good long while, and that was a thanks to Hiccup's own genius.
The wind howled softly, lying flat against the world before it picked up, finally releasing itself from its waiting position. Toothless felt it and instinctively his wings unfurled, cupping the air beneath his span and allowing it to guide both him and Hiccup just a few feet off of the ground as they'd done so many times.
It was much smoother than the first time, no nervous shaking or uncoordinated movements. No. Instead, Hiccup was practiced in how he controlled Toothless' tail, his foot flickering between positions using the stirrup he'd crafted.
By now, it was almost instinctual, except he still needed to remind himself of the correct tail positions a few times— causing him and Toothless to fumble a few seconds, earning a grumble from the dragon.
"Sorry... still getting used to it," Hiccup jumbled low, just loud enough for Toothless to hear, but soft enough for the wind to carry his voice in the opposite direction of the watchful girl, not wanting her to hear his unsureness.
Quickly recovering, Hiccup and Toothless resumed their hovering, the occasional flap of Toothless' wings keeping them upheld in the air whenever the wind would get a little too soft to keep them afloat.
Hiccup smiled as his foot rotated again, the gears of the saddle clicking with the movement whilst the wind changed speeds. He was finally getting the hang of it— so all he needed to do was land now and...
The wind howled louder as it suddenly picked up, growing a little too close to being a repeat of the very first time he had attempted to fly on the back of Toothless. "Woah!" Hiccup yelped as the sounds of snapping twine reached his ears, adrenaline beginning to flood his system.
The rope— not again.
With a loud crack, like lightning striking, the rope cracked apart, sending both Toothless and Hiccup flying back. Again. It was an exact repeat of the very first time they'd flown. Did the gods not want him to fly solo either..?
Hiccup yelled in pain as he was split from Toothless, ending up somewhere buried in a field of... grass?
Hiccup blinked, registering the sight before his very eyes. Stems of a strangely sage coloured grass poked from the snow cover, as if it were immune to the cold of the weather. The stalks were small, but they were there.
Nevermind, some grass wasn't the most important thing... he was more focused on the sharp pain jolting through his ribs.
Hiccup hissed through his teeth as he sat up, adjusting his scarf as it had been ruffled in the aftermath of of his roughened tumble— the red dusted with snow and dirt as he re-wrapped it around his neck.
"Hiccup! You all good!" (Name) called out to him as she ran over, clear concern on her face as Shocker hung over her shoulder.
She quickly spotted Hiccup in the snow, dashing over to his sitting form with an uncanny speed. "See— you're an idiot, that's why I wanted you to take a test flight!" She huffed harshly, yet despite her scolding words she still extended a hand out towards him, offering her palm to help him up.
"It was the rope... not the saddle," Hiccup used one hand to brush snow out of his hair while the other took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet and help steady himself.
"Still. You need something to keep you on the saddle, what if you fall off out there?" She frowned.
"Fine... fine, I'll make a hook or something, but for now—" Hiccup went to turn to find Toothless, only to get accidentally yanked as he realised his and (Name's) hands were still clasped together.
They both froze, red rising to their cheeks in sync.
"Oh I—"
"Uhm uh, thanks for helping me up," Hiccup cleared his throat awkwardly as they both retreated their hands, neither of them making a move to shift any further as they both stood embarrassed.
"It's... no problem," (Name) muttered, looking away nervously.
"I uh— I'm gonna check up on Toothless," Hiccup coughed, pointing to where there was a clear trail of where the dragon fell.
Oh yeah, Toothless!
"Oh, crap! Toothless," (Name) suddenly remembered the dragon had also fallen with Hiccup, and while Toothless' bones likely weren't as brittle or fragile, having the hardened steel of dragon genetics, there was no telling how hard the dragon had fallen.
Both teens rushed after the trail that told the story of where the dragon fell, following it around a few trees to find Toothless in a clearing in the forest.
"Toothless—!" Hiccup called, only to stop as he saw the weird scene playing before him.
Toothless seemed fine, in a sense, but for some reason he was... nuzzling the floor? The way he purred and flopped, as if the ground was some kind of giant teddy bear. "Uh, what's he doing?" (Name) leaned towards Hiccup, both looking towards Toothless with a grimace.
"I... don't know," Hiccup tilted his head, then he took a slow step forward. It was soft, cautious as he tried to peer into what Toothless was nuzzling against, that's when he saw it— the likely cause of the dragons sudden affection towards the dirt.
The same grass that Hiccup had found himself landing in, it seems Toothless had also found himself piled in. While the quantity wasn't large, Toothless was all over it, almost as if he were addicted. It honestly looked like when the older Vikings would get their hands on Meade.
Except, Toothless didn't have grubby grease slathered hands or a beard with food chunks stuck to it— only the symptoms of being unusually smitten in the presence of the herb.
Hiccup stopped about five paces from Toothless, crouching down to the ground where he found his own patch of the strange nip of grass. He reached for it, plucking a few strands of it from the ground with his fingers, the grass slipping from the snow easily.
Hiccup observed it carefully in his hand, looking between the grass and the still rolling Toothless.
"Grass?" (Name) crouched beside Hiccup, looking curiously at the grass Hiccup now held, Shocker also seemed intrigued by it. The small terror leaned over her shoulder, nostrils flaring as it tried to determine what the grass could be, curious.
Yet, it seems the grass didn't only have a strange affect on Toothless, because the moment Shocker managed to catch a whiff of it, the Terror was all over the strange herb, and I mean all over it. Rolling, purring, trying to snatch it from Hiccup's hands, to which he narrowly dodged. It was as if the grass held some kind of strange effect over the dragons.
"Oi! Settle down," (Name) struggled to hold the energetic terror to her chest, attempting to save Hiccup from the storm that was its newfound energy.
"This... stuff, it's making the dragons go crazy— yet, docile, at the same time," Hiccup hummed, turning his hand over to observe all signs of the stems. It seemed normal, just like regular grass, except for the fact it was still sprouting in winter and the fact its blades were thin and almost sharp, like a blade.
"Yeah, kinda like cat nip, but for dragons," (Name) snorted, glancing to Toothless.
Both (Name) and Hiccup suddenly paused before slowly turning to one another, a moment of realisation seeming to hit them as their minds synced with one another.
"Dragon-nip!"
.
"Come on lads! From here on out yer lot'll start getting eliminated!" Gobber chanted, his words attempting to be some kind of motivating speech as he watched the kids scramble around in the arena once again.
Back to the Gronkle, that's where they'd circled in their training. They'd done two whole rounds of every single dragon—minus the Monstrous Nightmare—and finally they were on the third round, which was when the finals began to actually creep in.
Starting from here on out, it wasn't training anymore, it was a test of your wits and skills, it was a competition to see who the best prodigy out of them all would end up being. They'd had weeks of preparation, and now it was time to put it to the test.
Shields, blades, all of them were just tools that if you didn't know how to use properly— you would fail horribly.
"Four shots left..." Astrid whispered, her tone determined and strengthened by her own passion for winning. Her axe was held in her hand, a warriors grip keeping it tightly in her hold, and her shield, held in the other— a defensive mechanism to save her from potentially garnering more injuries than needed.
A scar was a testament to your bravery, a physical record of your feats, but too many shouted of your weakness, of your inability to protect yourself.
"Four shots left," she repeated, peering out from behind her planked coverage just in time to see an unlucky Fishlegs be shot right in his shield by the Gronckle.
"Fishlegs! Out!"
"Make that three," she corrected, making sure to stay hidden as best as she could whilst she watched her remaining 'comrades'—rivals— fight for their own stance in dragon training.
Fishlegs, the first to get out, that means he was eliminated from here on out. That also meant she was safe— but, she wasn't going to slack off just because of that. That was the cowards way of winning.
No. She was going to show the audience that had begun to accumulate that she was the one who deserved to slay the dragon, that she was the prodigy who would rise to the status of a shield maiden all on her own. She'd prove that she'd be more capable than anyone in this ring.
Not even (Name) was going to be safe from her competitive nature this time around.
She watched the Gronckle closely, not letting her eyes stray from it— not for a second. She didn't even let her eyes flicker away as it suddenly began to head for Hiccup.
Its wings buzzed like that of a bees, quick and furious as its maw opened. Bright orange blazed from the inside, and that familiar sizzling pop of igniting gas crackled as it prepared to shoot out a blazing ball.
Ugh... Astrid cursed Fishlegs mentally for getting out first. If he hadn't, then Hiccup would have been eliminated right— huh?
The Gronckle suddenly dropped to the floor, following the direction of Hiccup's awkward hand gestures as it suddenly rolled over, tail... wagging happily? And fire immediately keeling into magma that drooled from the sides of its mouth.
The ring went silent, everyone staring in shock at the Gronckle that was so suddenly subdued by none other than the runt Hiccup himself.
Of course, the rumours of Hiccup's sudden proficiency in the ring were unheard, but how could anyone believe them... until now? Astrid blinked, her anger slowly boiling up as she prepared herself to say something, evacuating her hiding spot.
"Yeah—! Go Hiccup!" (Name) cheered before Hiccup could say anything, and her words of encouragement caused everyone around to erupt into cheers. It wasn't that many people, just the dozen adults that came to watch and the rest of the training group, but it was enough to stump Astrid.
She froze in her step, her shield almost falling from her palm in shock.
Astrid flickered her eyes to (Name), meeting the other girls gaze.
They connected eyes, stared for a bit before (Name) gulped visibly, obviously tense and then looked away— bringing her smile back up as she went over to join the group who'd begun praising Hiccup, the commotion moving away from the unconscious Gronckle that Gobber had begun to take back to its cage.
Something inside Astrid ticked in indignation as she got a first row seat to the show of (Name's) gall. In three weeks, three short damn weeks— her best friend had gone from being attached to her side, to following around a boy like no tomorrow.
Is this what those older women talked about when they mentioned how their friends would grow distant once they had... a lover? Astrid almost gagged, her fists clenching into a ball at just the mere thought of the two together.
She couldn't fathom the possibility, it was just so out of reach in her eyes. How... how had (Name) upped and left her so quickly...? What did Hiccup have that she didn't..? She could fight better than him, she'd been friends with (Name) her whole life... the only upside she could acknowledge that Hiccup held over her was... intelligence.
But intelligence wasn't revered, not like strength was. Sure, intelligence was a great trait to have, the ability to outthink another was something to boast pridefully over, but strength had always been held at a higher scale— it had always been weighed in a finer gold than intellect had. So why... why? Why would that be the reason (Name) had left her?
It couldn't have been. There must be another reason.
Astrid didn't know what, didn't know why or how— but she was going to find out just why (Name) liked Hiccup so much, and she was going to one up that troll in every skill he had. She would prove she was worth it.
.
"You're sure Gobber won't be in today?" (Name) whispered to Hiccup cautiously, the two slinking into the closed off back of the forge in a hidden silence. Their moments of stealth were shoddy ones, skills sloppy and unrefined altogether, but they were careful nonetheless as they attempted to slip into the forge undetected.
"Yeah, it's his off day, he's probably gonna drink Meade in the forge," Hiccup nodded, being far more confident in his step as he careful shut the forges windows from below the counters, praying no Viking noticed the forge window shutting 'on its own'.
The light let inside from the outer quarters was soon shut away, enveloping the inside of the forge in a darker atmosphere that was only illuminated by the subtle glow of the still brimming fire of the gurgling forge, wrapped in cobble.
(Name) stood up once all the windows were closed, allowing herself to freely move around once privacy was guaranteed.
She swiftly shifted around the inner workings of the forge, now formally acquainted with most other of the tools inside. While she may not be able to use them herself, she could surely still identify what they were, what they were for and where they were placed.
"So... you just need to finish the hooks so you don't fall off?" She hummed, running her fingers along the top of the serving counters, feeling the grained wood texture beneath the pads of her fingertips.
"Actually... I've already finished those," Hiccup walked over to one of the counters with a cupboard below— pulling it open and revealing the completed 'hooks' they'd discussed making just in case he almost fell off of Toothless.
They were crafted with a precisely formulated iron at either end, either of them being identical— and through the middle, leather wrapped around the middle, making the material both flexible yet sturdy at the same time.
"So... why are we here then?" (Name) tilted her head, curiosity buzzing under her skin.
"I've had another project I've been working on secretly, without you or Gobber knowing," Hiccup revealed, turning to walk into his personal back room— that of which had become dedicated to him and him only.
All his plans and sketches lie within, not even Gobber entered the area, though, that was more so because Gobber had proclaimed he didn't want to enter 'Hiccup's brooding room', which was... an interesting thing to call Hiccup's own back office.
(Name) followed after Hiccup, slipping past the barrier of cloth that blocked the view and taking a glimpse around the rather small room.
The roof wasn't exactly all that tall, only reaching a head higher than her own head did— and the perimeter of it all was also quite quaint, squished down and filled with all sorts of clutter that seemed to be Hiccup's failed experiments.
(Name) glanced around in a subtle amazement, her eyes prancing over bola designs, attempts at crafting weapons— and then... a desk Hiccup stood before. He was now sat in the chair, his back turned to her.
She didn't really pay much attention to him for a moment, more focused on the display of his genius that was parchments stuck up to the wall for 'all' to see. Drawings of Toothless, Shocker... all so detailed and accompanied by a design for some sort of mechanism.
For Toothless, his paintings of charcoal were smudged alongside diagrams of his mechanical tail and his saddle. For Shocker, a... harness with a satchel was drawn beside the little Terrible Terror.
Hiccup had been attempting to design something for Shocker? (Name) looked to Hiccup who was watching her observe the designs, and when he noticed her attention was back on him, he cleared his throat, his actions antsy and nervous.
"Uh... I've been working on a project, for Shocker. I thought it might be a nice surprise," He shrugged, fiddling with something in his hands.
(Name) looked down to what he held, taking the time to actually look at what he'd crafted.
It was almost an identical match to the harness that was drawn out in the plans... only this in person version seemed much more fresh and refined in its style. Two small saddle backs were attached to either side, and a small loop for something to potentially hook onto was embedded into the leather.
It was so... polished and— (Name) felt her heart swell as she looked at it, the mere sight of the gift causing her throat to begin tightening whilst a smile took hold of her face. Her limbs grew queasy with gratitude, and she had malfunctioned for a moment as she tried to figure out what to say in response.
Hiccup had made this... just for Shocker? Sure, it wasn't a gift for her, but Shocker was her dragon— and for him to make something like this just for her dragon, it was a thought that made her giddy.
"I— you made that...? For Shocker?" She vocalised her thoughts, praying that he nodded in reply.
"Yeah..." Hiccup smiled awkwardly, standing up from the seat as he took a step closer, holding out the harness to (Name) as if to display his handiwork. "It's a harness, uh— obviously, but, I gave it two bags on the side to carry things... and this loop here," Hiccup pointed to the loop (Name) had noticed.
"It's to put letters in, just to make sure they don't fall out. I thought that... since Terror's were so small, it would be a cool idea to test, y'know? And uh, even if the letter idea doesn't work, you can still attach anything to it that you want," Hiccup smiled sheepishly, his hands obviously quivering as he extended the harness further towards (Name), this time offering her to take it.
(Name) took it from him gently, being sure to remain careful as to not add any imperfections to the absolute perfection that she saw his work as.
"It's— I..." she couldn't seem to gather the rights words to say, and Hiccup faltered as he realised that she might not appreciate it as much as he thought she would.
"Sorry, I probably should've asked if you even wanted me to make this," Hiccup shrugged, fiddling with his hands as he looked away sheepishly, a subtle blush dusting his cheeks.
"No! No, it's fine Hiccup! I love it! You really made this just for Shocker?" (Name) assured him otherwise, still reeling in surprise at the gift that he'd likely put sweat and hard work into.
She didn't exactly know how hard smithing could be, but she had a strong bet that if she attempted to make the same craft he'd given her— that she would end up making something completely laughable. So for him to put his skills to use in favour of her, she felt her heart begin to race.
"Yeah, I did. Y'know, since Toothless had a saddle, I thought Shocker might need one too," he nodded, his smile returning as he forced his own eyes to meet (Name's) again. They both went silent.
Not in an uncomfortable way though, but rather in a way where there were too many sentiments to be said all at once— leaving them both confounded and stumbling as they tried to find a way to continue the conversation.
"Thank you," (Name's) suddenly murmured, feeling her own heart stutter in its beat again.
"It's uh, really no problem. It just wanted to do something for you," Hiccup shrugged her appraisal off, his shoulders hunching as he attempted to flush away his fluster that was only growing more intense by the moment.
Silence again, yet the mood change once more. Contemplative. That's what it was.
Suddenly, in a quick movement, (Name) pulled Hiccup close and enveloped him in a hug. She held him tight, squeezing the poor stumped boy against her.
Hiccup wheezed as he was suddenly embraced, not prepared for the sudden strong display of affection thrown his way. He blinked to regain cognitive control a few times, and that was when he realised his position.
He was overlooking (Name's) shoulder, the girl having pulled him close and leaning her head over his shoulder. Hiccup stayed frozen for a moment— only spurred to move when he felt (Name's) hands retreating.
He suddenly hugged her back, returning the embrace that she had given in, but this time— he sent in her way tenfold.
He felt... weird, not in the queasy way like before, or in the drowning way he usually felt when his attempts at creating weapons were belittled— but rather, in a grateful way, in a surprised way. In the way where a child experienced something for the first time.
Hearing his creations being so praised, his inventions and his hard work being thanked, it was something he hadn't experienced before.
Usually he'd get scolded, told he'd injure someone or destroy something— but (Name) didn't do that. She didn't tell him he wasted his time, nor that he shouldn't have even bothered or that she didn't like his gift.
No. She didn't do any of that. She did the exact opposite and more.
She praised his work, told him that she loved the gift, and then hugged him. It seemed like a small gesture at a first glance. A hug was a greeting, a formal move that most engaged in— but this one... was a genuine thanks, a reciprocation of gratitude.
This was a hug full of warmth and pure love. Take that in any way you wish.
Hiccup felt his heart sweep strangely as conflicted emotions arose from the deep. He was happy, grateful that someone liked his work... but he was also solemn and somber, wondering when the last time someone hugged him out of pure affection was.
Even his own father— while certainly caring in his own way— hadn't given him such a hug since he was but a babbling tot. He truly couldn't remember the last time he'd been embraced so genuinely, and that made it all the more better when the hug extended on for longer than it should have.
Though, it of course had to end— and it was both of them who ended it, either of them nervously stepping back.
"Sorry—" the uttered in sync.
Both of them froze, their faces turning redder.
"I mean, no— ugh!" Their words kept spilling out at the same time, and it was only when (Name) took a deep breath to ease her emotions did their synchronised stuttering come to an end. "Uhm... wanna go see if Shocker likes it?" (Name) smiled awkwardly, holding up the harness Hiccup had made.
Hiccup's blush disappeared and he nodded— then, they disappeared.
.
It's turns out that while Shocker didn't exactly mind the harness, she didn't seem to like it either. She struggled to walk around for the first few minutes with it on, the same way Toothless had fumbled when he wore his saddle for the very first time.
Was being unable to walk with something on their back just a dragon thing or did all creatures do this? She'd never seen a yak get disturbed when a human would attempt to saddle it in a wacky turn of events, so perhaps this behaviour was reserved for the dragons only.
The little Terror stumbled throughout her steps, even flopping over at one point, but by the time the sun had gone to set— she'd gotten the hang of it, walking around properly, only a small stutter to her step to show that the harness was quite new.
But alas, the moments of relishing in the laughter that was shared when watching Shocker stumble as she attempted to get used to the harness dried up, and when the sun began to meet the horizon— the two knew it was time to go back to the hall otherwise the questions would only grow.
So, rushing back as to make it before night fully encapsulated the world, Hiccup and (Name) just barely managed to reach the hall's doors with a scrape of time left on their side. They could hardly see, but the village was easy to pinpoint with the torches lighting up their way.
Hiccup came to the hall door first, leaning his shoulder against it as he pushed the heavy door open. (Name) followed after him inside.
The hall was still filled with the same Vikings, yet it was depleted in crowd density as those sent away on the trip still weren't back. So, under the flickering firelight, Hiccup and (Name) headed to grab their fetch of the prepared 'feast'.
Trays were in their hands, a choice of chicken and or roasted cod split between them both as water was gifted for their drink. They both walked besides one another while chatting softly, eager to continue their conversations, yet no so eager for anyone else to eaves drop on those conversations.
When they came closer to the table where the others in their class sat, (Name) almost natively diverted her feet to trail off and go sit with them, but when Hiccup didn't, and instead walked right past the table to sit at the next one over, she turned again, following beside him.
They both sat down at the table next to each other, placing their trays down and settling themselves on the bench seats comfortably.
"So... what if— we start training uh... y'know in letter delivery?" (Name) leant over to Hiccup, keeping her voice low as she suggested yet another idea to implement with the addition of Shocker's new saddle.
"Like, we can send letters to one another?" (Name) continued, refining her definition.
Hiccup hummed thoughtfully, picking at a scrap of the chicken on his plate. He was contemplating it. "Yeah, we could try," he shrugged, the cogs turning in his head as he thought deeply about the proposition.
"What'cha talking about?"
Both Hiccup and (Name) jumped in their seats, looking up to see not only Ruffnut—who'd spoken— at the other side of the table, but literally the rest of the hall surrounding them. It was... intimidating to say the least.
(Name) nor Hiccup hadn't even noticed the others surround them, they hadn't even noticed when Snotlout sat at their table! It was either Vikings were growing extremely stealthy, or they were simply too enveloped in their conversation to notice them all flock around them.
"Uh..." Hiccup glanced at the beady eyes surrounding him, each of which were eager for answers. His fingers began to softly tap against the table. "Training... tactics?" Hiccup still sounded unsure in his answer, but he didn't fumble as much as he had this morning— instead more solidified in the lie he told.
Ruffnut leapt up from her seat, her hands slamming loudly against the table. "Hah! I knew it— you owe me ten gold!" The blonde jabbed a finger at Snotlout, to which the stocky Viking was grimacing as he fetched a roll of coins from the pocket of his pants, pulling them out and dumping the ordered amount in Ruffnut's hands.
"I still think it's cancer," Snotlout huffed, to which he received weird looks.
"Uh, what are you guys talking about?" (Name) decided to question the strange exchange, her eyes nervously floating between everyone that surrounded them.
"Me and Snotlout had a bet on why you and Hiccup were hanging out together so much. I bet (Name) was training you, that's why you're so good at dragon training, Snotlout bet it was cancer," Ruffnut shrugged simply.
That seemed to stump the 'interrogated' duo even more than the previous display had.
"Okay— wait. You thought I had cancer?" Hiccup turned to Snotlout, expression exasperated.
Snotlout shrugged, not an ounce of regret in his expression, perhaps only the tiniest tinge of defeat lingering after being dealt the wrong hand of cards in the bet.
"(Name) never hangs out with you! I thought she was pitying you!"
"I am not—"
"The lass is probably interested now because of the lads success in training," one of the adults spoke up.
Wait a minute... why were they even formulating thoughts of drama between teenagers—? Y'know what? Never mind.
"Uh, no, it's because she's training Hiccup," Ruffnut scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Uh actually! Hiccup, is uh— training me!" (Name) suddenly proclaimed, turning all attention back to her. While the premise of the declaration was a facade, it wasn't entirely false in its entirety.
Silence.
"Hiccup... is training— you?" Tuffnut repeated, in the same state of disbelief as the rest of the flock.
"Yep! That's why I've been hanging around him so much! He offered to train me... and he's been coming up with all these ideas to take dragons down!" (Name) nodded her head to Hiccup, as if assuring the idea.
Silence again, the same as before. A stewing silence that was filtered by an air of waiting. And then—
"You gotta teach me Hiccup!" Fishlegs squeaked, and all it took was that plea from Fishlegs for everyone else to bring praising Hiccup. Again.
Hiccup stiffened in his posture, hands gripping onto the table tightly as his head ever so slowly craned towards (Name). If looks could kill, the girl would be nothing more than a shrivelling pile of soot on the ground, and all she could offer in apology was a sheepish smile.
Hiccup was bombarded with compliments and pleas of him to train the younger ones— questions about how he figured out his tricks and just an overall flush of attention in his direction.
He definitely looked overwhelmed, attempting to answer the questions as best as he could without giving anything away. Though, he never got much of an answer out before another question was thrown his way. Gods... did anyone here know privacy?
"Alright yer lot! It's late, and trainin' is early again tomorrow. Let the lads get ter sleep."
Apparently Gobber did.
Like a Valkyrie sent from above, Gobber shooed away the crowd and made the perfect excuse for Hiccup and (Name) to slip away unnoticed. The crowd was too busy being scolded by the smithy to even notice the two teens slipping away— abandoning their food at the same time sadly.
(Name) and Hiccup rushed outside of the hall into the cool air, feeling the flush of freezing temperatures surround them in a frosty embrace. The stars now dangled high in the sky, and the two made their way down the illuminated steps with exhausted sighs.
"Geez, talk about personal space," Hiccup ran a hand down his face, shoulders sagging into a relaxed position as the two were finally given a moment of silence again.
The peace of now greatly contrasted the chaos of just moments before, and Hiccup would make sure to thank Gobber later for stepping in and giving him the perfect opportunity to slink away from the flutter of Vikings.
"Yeah, they went a little overkill," (Name) agreed, walking in step with Hiccup.
"Hey, you were the one who said I was training you," Hiccup grumbled, glancing over to (Name). She raised her hands in a mock surrender.
"I was just trying to give you credit! Plus— you kind of are training me," she shrugged, whispering the last part.
"No, I'm training..." Hiccup paused, glancing around just in case any patrol members happen to stray too close to them. "Him. Not you. Big difference," Hiccup corrected, turning back to (Name).
"Same thing," she waved him off, shaking her head.
"Uh, actually it's not."
"Is too."
"Is not—" Hiccup bit back, finally stepping up to the porch of his own hut.
"Okay fine, you're technically not training me... but, not like I can tell everyone else that," (Name) shrugged, pausing as something seemed to come to a realisation.
"Hey... what are we going to go?" She suddenly looked over to Hiccup, the boy raising an eyebrow at her.
"Huh?" Hiccup paused, his hand lingering in the front doors handle.
"About— Toothless, and all that. Do we just... keep hiding this? Forever?" She suddenly asked, one of her hands coming to rub her other arm.
"I— I don't... know," Hiccup blinked, seeming to realise the same thing. They truly had no plan for this. It had all been smooth sailing so far, but that's because everything had been decently peaceful.
What happens when the rest of the village returns? When hunts start happening out in the forest again? What happens then—? She hadn't really taken the time to think about it, and it seems Hiccup hadn't either.
"What if the village finds him?"
"They won't... but, don't worry about it for now... Ill figure something out," Hiccup shook his head, pushing the door open.
"We will."
"Hiccup stopped, looking back to (Name). "Huh?"
"We'll figure it out. I— I don't want the others to find Toothless... or Shocker, either. As much as I never thought it would happen—befriending dragons and all—I don't really want the others to find them," (Name) swallowed.
"..."
"So, if you come up with something," (Name) took a breath, looking over to Hiccup with a small smile. "I'd be more than happy to help," she nodded.
Hiccup nodded back, his heart doing that same thing it had earlier. His hand grasped the door handle tighter. "Yeah, thanks." Hiccup smiled back.
"Night, (Name). See you tomorrow," Hiccup bid her goodbye.
"Night Hiccup," she returned the greeting, staying in her spot until the door closed fully. Even then, she stared at it for a moment, feeling her heart palpate unevenly in her chest.
Finally with a deep breath, the muffled footsteps of Hiccup inside his hut spurred her onwards, and she turned on her heel, beginning to walk back to her own hut with a strangely heavy heart.
Was it from the idea of Toothless and Shocker being found— or the fact she had something else she might have wanted to say? Either way, it didn't truly matter. She had bit her tongue, and she probably would for a while. Though, she hoped she wouldn't have to.
.
"Gods... my feet hurt so bad," (Name) whined, following after Hiccup and Toothless who walked ahead of her through the forest— Shocker sitting on her shoulder.
"Is it just me or are the dragons in the ring getting a little more aggressive? That Nadder was chasing after me like I'd personally offended it," she continued her branch of complaints, feeling the ache within her feet muscles every step she took forwards.
Definitely strained, and it was to be expected after all the running she'd done in the ring. Gobber had set the maze back up and released the Nadder, and for some reason, the dragon decided it wanted to make her its personal target, yet she couldn't quite pinpoint why.
"That's probably because you hit it with your shield the other day," Hiccup pointed out, glancing back at (Name) over his shoulder— more than informed on the situation she whinged about seeing as he had witnessed it first hand.
"It jump-scared me, alright? I got scared!" (Name) defended herself.
"You should work on your fight or flight reaction," Hiccup hummed, turning back to face forwards as the hill he'd been using the practice flying came into view— the snow once more piled upon it, yet that one stump at the crest visible.
"Oh yeah? Well you should work on your flight," (Name) huffed. Hiccup seemed to take that to heart.
"My flight is amazing, thank you!"
Toothless grumbled.
"Sorry bud, your flight."
"See— even Toothless thinks you suck at controlling the tail," (Name) continued to poke the bear.
"I do not! I've been doing fine lately."
"Yeah, after I got you to double check your skills."
"Well— I've been doing fine now."
"Because you made those hooks to help you!"
"You told me to!" Hiccup walked up with Toothless to the stump, finding the rope lying on the ground that they'd left there after yesterday's flight testing.
"I changed my mind."
"Gods... you're just being petty, aren't you?" Hiccup grumbled as he picked up the rope, beginning to connect it to Toothless' saddle again.
"How'd you know?" (Name) snorted.
"Because you're being annoying," Hiccup chuffed back.
"I am not annoying," (Name) denied.
"I said you were being annoying, not that you are annoying— big difference!" Hiccup corrected with a sarcastic huff.
"Stop it with your high and mighty grammar," (Name) grumbled, rolling her eyes.
"You're just mad I'm better at grammar than you," Hiccup teased, pulling himself onto the back of Toothless, propping himself up on the saddle.
"Am not."
"You are, you just won't admit it," Hiccup hummed as he checked to make sure all of the mechanisms were working once again.
(Name) frowned at him, yet there was no real bite behind the expression, just a hidden admittance.
"Make sure you're hooked in," she reminded.
"Yeah, yeah. I know, stop acting like you're my mother," Hiccup mocked, sitting back up and hooking one end of the hooks to his 'flight suit', then proceeding to conjoin the other end of the hooks to two new protruding metal circles that Hiccup had added to Toothless' saddle, particularly for this purpose.
"I'm not— y'know what, never-mind," (Name) shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched Hiccup get ready for flight testing number; who knows.
Shocker chittered from her shoulder, and she glanced to the small blue Terror that was dressed in the harness Hiccup had made for her. Shocker looked cute with it on, and (Name) honestly found it a little funny that Shocker still struggled a little with walking.
Well— maybe struggled wasn't the best word. Shocker could get from point A to point B easily, it just seemed that with the harness on she preferred to waddle instead of walk, but, she was getting close to strutting normally instead of like a lopsided model.
"Alright bud, one last flight before the big try?" Hiccup leaned over Toothless' shoulder, a buck-toothed grin on his face. Toothless huffed through his nose, shaking his head before stretching his wings.
It only took a small spurt of wind this time for Toothless to take off, and Hiccup easily sat on the back of him like a natural. They glided perfectly, except for the few times the wind would kick up and knock them around a little— causing Hiccup to almost fall off, but luckily the hooks he'd made did their job and they kept him on.
It was all smooth— oh my gods.
Again, the rope crackled and snapped, and just like the other two moments this had happened, Hiccup was flung back alongside Toothless.
(Name) was seriously beginning to doubt the safety of these ropes. They seemed to snap way too easily, but then again... a rope probably wasn't made to have the strength to hold onto something as heavy as a gliding dragon. So. It was no wonder they kept snapping more and more.
Hiccup yelled out in shock just like the other times, and again (Name) ran after to where he and Toothless hand landed together, finding Hiccup sitting up and shaking his head.
"We really need stronger ropes..." Hiccup grunted, raising a hand to press the heel of it against his forehead, a headache incoming.
"Ya-think!? This is the third time in... a month! Okay— that's not really that bad, but still!" (Name) offered a hand to help Hiccup up as Toothless seemed to recover fairly well on his own. Hiccup reached his own hand out and took it, letting (Name) pull him up.
Only, there was a slight problem.
Something stopped Hiccup from fully standing. The hooks.
They tugged and stopped Hiccup half-way from standing, causing him to twist his torso awkwardly to see what the problem was.
At a first glance, it seemed to just be an oversight of their intended use, but when Hiccup used his free hand to try and thread them free of their clasps, they stayed stuck— bent awkwardly from the fall, and therefor sealed together.
Hiccup was joined to Toothless. Or rather, Toothless's saddle was conjoined to Hiccup's flight suit. Though, in this moment of panic— all the two saw was the fact that Hiccup was attached to Toothless by the hip. Literally.
"Well... that's not good," (Name) pointed out, and her obvious statement was followed by an eye roll from Hiccup.
"Thank you... I couldn't tell," Hiccup sighed.
"So uh, how're you gonna fix that," (Name) peered over his shoulder to get a better look of the situation, blinking at the obviously dented metal that certainly wouldn't come free without a little rough-handling.
Hiccup pursed his lips in thought.
"I have an idea... but it's a little risky," he looked back to (Name), and her face remained neutral before it dropped, realisation striking her flat.
"No."
"Yup."
—
"Aye Hiccup," a patrolling Viking waved at Hiccup, that of whom was leaned against the side of a building— doing his absolute best to remain inconspicuous.
"Hi," he nodded back, feebly remaining casual as the Viking passed. Either Hiccup was truly just that good at lying and stealth, or the Vikings were seriously lacking in their suspicion department, and (Name)— who stuck her head out from the dark of the alley— seemed to think it was more so the latter.
"Berk seriously needs to work on their security," she hummed, watching the watchman walk off with a torch in his hand, using it for illumination. He didn't suspect a thing, all he did was keep walking. Stupid.
"No kidding," Hiccup nodded, doing a double check of their surroundings. "Alright, it's clear— let's go," Hiccup nodded towards the opposing side of the central plaza, where the forge sat. It was just there, unoccupied and shrilled in silence.
Hiccup stepped out of the alley, tugging on the leather cord attached to his hook. On the other end, Toothless too stepped out of the alley, Shocker on his back. All four of them had been hiding inside the alley, using Hiccup as some kind of diversion.
Now that the coast was clear— for who knows how long— they were going to try and complete their mission; disconnect Toothless from Hiccup. For this mission, they needed to head to the forge, which was where Hiccup would attempt to re-shape the hooks back into their desired form.
The four of them quickly yet quietly crept across the space of the plaza, darting from one end to another and seeking shelter out in the forge that lay in waiting. The moment they reached it, (Name) took up the duty of closing the windows this time, and Hiccup immediately set to work on finding the tools he'd need, dragging Toothless along with him.
(Name) was on watch duty. Yippee.
She quickly closed every window in the forge, blocking out the light, and then stalking to the entrance to where she'd watch for anyone who passed by. She'd be the one to call out the code if they needed to run. Said code was; "Yak stampede!". They'd both agreed on it.
Hiccup rifled through drawers and shelves, noisily digging through clutter and scraps of jagged metal to try and find what he'd need, yet to little success so far.
(Name) glared back at him from her post. "Jee— could you be any louder? It sounds like you're digging for gold in there!" She hissed, trying to keep her voice low as she glared at the boy.
"Oh I'm sorry. I'm just trying to be quick," Hiccup snapped back, fumbling through items as his hands gradually grew more clammy from adrenaline.
"We'll be quiet as well—" (Name) grunted again, turning back to peer out the front entrance.
"Uh oh," she suddenly murmured, and that caught Hiccup's attention.
"What, what is it?" He paused his searching, trying to peer out the door.
"It's Astrid... just— just keep working! I'll distract her," (Name) waved him off, her eyes watching as Astrid walked over to the forge, clearly having already seen her standing in the doorway. This couldn't be anything good.
"(Name)," Astrid bluntly greeted, if you could even call only saying (Name's) name a greeting at all.
"Astrid, hi," (Name) nodded back, a smile on her face— before some metal clattered behind her, which drew her smile to twitch in irritation.
"What was that?" Astrid tried to peer over her shoulder, but (Name) sidestepped and blocked her view.
"Uhm... nothing. Hiccup's just, working on a super secret project," (Name) coughed awkwardly into her fist. Astrid didn't seem convinced.
"And you're...?" She looked (Name) up and down.
"Standing guard."
"Right," Astrid nodded with a frown, crossing her arms. "What is he working on?" Astrid questioned, again trying to get a quick peek inside, but (Name) kept blocking her view.
"Super secret. Like I said," (Name) spluttered, wincing as yet more metal clattered.
"Okay, you're acting weird, and so is Hiccup. What are you two up to?" Astrid took a step forward, her stride slow and calculating, her eyes flickering for a way in as she began to interrogate her 'best friend '.
"Suddenly he gets good at dragon training, and now you won't even talk to me without getting all— nervous," Astrid continued as she came face to face with (Name).
(Name) blinked nervously, her guilty smile still being held up.
"Uhm... I get really anxious in winter?"
"No you don't."
"Yeah... you're right, I don't— but uh, sorry, can't tell you, super secret," (Name) again reiterated that same phrase she kept using.
"So secret you can't even tell your best friend?" Astrid raised her brows.
"Can't even tell you. Hiccup is uh... really— shy about it," (Name) glanced back into the forge before looking to Astrid again.
"Uh huh. Why would he tell you then?"
"Because I found out on accident!" (Name) squeaked, her hands fiddling with one another.
"You found out on accident?"
"Yup."
Astrid glared at (Name)— like, really glared. Astrid was the kind of person who didn't even have to try to be intimidating. She was smart, strong, pretty. She was quite literally intimidating by just existing, so obviously (Name) was going to fold under such pressure.
"Okay—! I'll tell you. But... you have to promise not to tell anyone else, alright?" (Name) winced looking around discreetly.
"Fine, I won't tell anyone," Astrid rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief.
(Name) double checked her surroundings again when Astrid promised that, and then when the coast was clear— she leaned in close, whispering something in Astrid's ear.
Astrid's face remained neutral, a cover of steel that couldn't be easily broken down, but then her eyes widened, a shocked looked taking over the blondes expression as her lips parted alongside it.
(Name) pulled back, and both stood in an awkward silence as Astrid processed the words.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. So... I've been helping him with that," (Name) looked away shyly, dusting her hands off even if there was no dirt to swipe away.
"But he's been getting better though, so he should be fine soon," (Name) finalised, and Astrid simply continued to stand awkwardly.
More metal clattered.
Astrid looked back to the forge.
"Okay, seriously. What is he doing in there?" Astrid attempted to step past (Name), but the girl blocked her.
Astrid glared at (Name).
"Move."
With a shove that wasn't intended to be quite as harmful as it came out to be, Astrid pushed (Name) to the side, stepping into the forge only to find it completely empty, the only remnants of someone being here recently being the air that was stirred unevenly.
Astrid stopped, observing the scene before turning back to (Name), only to find her gone as well.
"What the hell...?" Astrid blinked in confusion, looking around to find herself completely alone— it was quite literally just her and herself in the forge now.
Though, under the cover of night, multiple figure crept away as one blackened silhouette in the skies. Hiccup, on the back of Toothless— nervously controlling the dragons fin as they flew for the first time without the rope and stump, and (Name), who was unfortunately being held in the claws of Toothless, being dangled over open air.
"A little warning next time?!" She screeched quietly, grasping onto Toothless' paws as tightly as she could, and she could hear a faint snort coming from Hiccup above.
"I had to be quiet! But... you think I'm finally ready for solo-flying now?" Something in Hiccup's tone seemed prideful, an unspoken glory slowly growing within him as her doubts were proved wrong.
(Name) grumbled at the cockiness in his voice.
"Maybe you are— but I am not," she breathed through her teeth, trying not to look at the lights of Berk below. The distance between her and the ground was far too terrifying for her to even consider looking down, so she simply kept her eyes squeezed shut.
"Mmh... anyway. What did you tell Astrid?"
"What?"
"You told Astrid something, a secret, apparently," Hiccup cleared up.
"Oh— that. I told her you had an addiction to eating metal."
"..."
"You told her what?"
"I was nervous, okay!"
Note; sorry for the extremely long delay chat! I was working on some other series of mine, but I'm back here now! So hopefully this chapter wasn't that dreadful. Anyway, we're getting closer to Stoick returning!
#canon divergence#how to train your dragon#httyd#hiccup x reader#httyd fanfic#hiccup fanfic#hiccup haddock#norse mythology#dragons#httyd hiccup
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Broken Pieces
Shauna Shipman x Reader
Genre: Angst ❀
Word Count: 1,208 words
Request: here

Shauna's feet shuffled towards the meat shed, eyes cast down and blurred with tears. Her body moved with precision, like the path was etched into her muscle memory. The shed had become tethered to her, in a way that was rooted in her core. It was a metaphor for her love, her kindness, her vulnerability. It held more weight than the others could ever feel and yet her body seeks its comfort.
Her palm laid gently against the wood, applying enough pressure for the door to creak open. The familiar smell of decay and frost surrounded her like a warm blanket. It lowered her defences, encouraged softness that she has denied in previous weeks. She dropped to her knees, hands covering her eyes and sobs rattling her chest. The weight upon her shoulders solidified her position, rooting her to the soil below. Her body shook, grief finding an outlet, away from prying eyes.
The Yellowjackets were gathered inside the cabin, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside Shauna. They soaked in the warmth of the fire and talked amongst themselves. A eerie parallel to the party that could have been their last. They clawed at any semblance of normalcy, anything that could feel like home. They tried their hardest to forget the snow that fell outside, the nights growing darker and the rumble in their stomachs.
But not you, not tonight, your thoughts drifted to Shauna and where she had escaped to. She had slipped out somewhere in between conversations, without warning. Concerned for the missing team member, you gathered your makeshift blanket and headed towards the door. The cold bite from the wind wrapped around your warm limbs, eating away any warmth they had secured. Eyes scanned the area around the cabin, the darkness of night and sheets of snow blurred together. Shauna was smart, she wouldn't risk her life to navigate the terrain in this weather. That was when a noise echoed through the breeze, gaining your attention. Curiosity moved your feet, trudging in the direction of the meat shed. Another sound floated in the air, clearer than the last. A sob, followed by a sniffle, closed the gap of distance. Shauna was hidden in the meat shed and that's all you needed to know.
The shed door creaked once more as you pushed it open. Shauna's wide eyes looked up, narrowing at the sight of you. She had come here to be alone, left to wrestle with her grief and guilt. She did not need to be viewed as weak, as nothing more than a broken girl. Something akin to a growl rumbled within her throat, it was deep enough for you to stop. Not in fear, but in understanding. Even if the team were blind, you were not. Shauna had lost more than her fair share, more than someone her age should ever endure. She has started to push at the fragile tethers of the team, chipping away at what she had left. Distancing herself from everything that could bring her pain. It was then that you decided that you would hold space for her. A small piece of you reserved for vulnerability, for hope, for the idea of something better.
It pulled you closer to her, despite her vocal protests. She shuffled deeper into the shed, her back bumping against the rotting wood. It had rattled her, the fact that you inched closer, with no fear or disgust. It's what she has grown accustomed to over time. When you had closed the gap, there was no hesitation as you wrapped her in the blanket, sitting down next to her. Her body grew stiff at the contact, eyes searching for a motive. When your arms wrapped around her, she started to protest. Her hands pushed at your shoulders, her body arching back away from the contact.
"I'm here" was whispered amongst the chaos, a lifeline thrown at sea. "I'm here for you". The words struck a chord in Shauna, who has given up completely. She began to thrash in your arms, wanting nothing more than to rid herself of your presence.
"No" she stated, through fresh tears. She won't allow herself to succumb to this, she does not need help. She doesn't deserve it. She pushed harder, nudged stronger, her mental battle becoming physical. Your arms wrapped tighter, showing no sign of weakness. "I don't deserve this" she whimpered, her movements slowing. With one final movement, Shauna's head rested on your chest, your arms fully secured around her. Her body rattled with sobs, tears coating your clothes.
"It's all my fault" she chanted, her inner demons becoming known. "I'm sorry" she said to no one in particular. She broke down for the hundredth time, except this time it was different. She had you by her side, grounding her, holding her like she's worth something, means something. A feeling that she has long since forgotten or believes she no longer deserves. Minutes go by, maybe hours, time is irrelevant in the woods. Enough time has passed that Shauna's sobs have calmed, her breathing slowly mimicking your own. A silence filled the space, it wasn't heavy, it was welcomed. It allowed time to think about what to say next.
"Choices were made, people were hurt but that was never your fault" your hand gently ran the length of her back, in hopes to calm her. "This doesn't define you, what happens out here will never change the way I look at you" Shauna's breath hitched, her head tilted to look up at you.
"And what do you see?" She questioned, curious to know what you thought. She watched intently for any chance of falsehood or lies.
"I see a girl, who has lost so much but cares so much more. Someone who is loyal to a fault, even when her intentions are muddled. I see someone trying their best and that's all we can ask for" Somehow, Shauna relaxed further with your words, a twinge of a smile pulling at the sides of her lips. It was the first time she has felt free, free of the burdens that she carries. To you, she wasn't the butcher or the reason for Jackie's death. She was just Shauna, the girl who is trying to survive and that's all she needed. She needed to know that someone, somewhere was understanding. That they could see past the trauma, the grief, the guilt and just see her. She lifted herself, gaining a height to match yours. She leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek. The action caught both by surprise, unfamiliar with this nature. However it was what each other needed in that moment.
"Thank you" she stated, her arms wrapping around you, returning the hug you had given to her. The silence that followed was light, something that hasn't been felt in a while. It was nice as broken became the new normal. Old and new bleeding into one with no judgement. Shauna's mind wandered, worried about how long it would last before they all saw the monster she was becoming. One squeeze from you was enough to chase it away because for now, it was just the two of you against this fucked up new world.
#shauna shipman imagine#shauna shipman x reader#Yellowjackets x reader#Yellowjackets imagine#shauna shipman x you#Yellowjackets x you
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Honey-Coated 1
Bob Reynolds x Reader (Honey)
Set after Dreaming as Honey becomes an integral part of Bob's life at the Watchtower.
Sunny & Honey Masterlist
“Hey, Honey, we’re back,” Bucky called as he and the rest of the team exited the elevator to the main living area of the watchtower.
“You asked her to stay, right?” Yelena said as she looked around for Bob or you. It was ten in the morning, and no one seemed to be around.
“Yeah, she knew we were going to be gone all night,” Bucky said. “Check to see if Bob is still in his room. I’ll check mine, maybe Honey crashed on the couch in there.”
“What the hell,” Yelena said loudly when she opened the door to Bob’s room. The noise woke you and Bob up, each flailing and falling out of the bed.
“Hey, Yelena,” Bob said curling his fingers nervously.
“Found them,” John shouted over his shoulder to Bucky.
“What were you doing?” Yelena asked as she took in the sight of you.
“Doing? Nothing!” You huffed defensively. “We weren’t doing anything. Nothing happened,” you said looking over at Bob then to Yelena. You felt the heat and shame in your cheeks and ears, before rushing out of the room and past Yelena.
“Honey, what-“ Bucky’s question was cut off as you ran down the hallway and push past him into his room to hide from the new Avengers. Yelena looked at Bob, who shrugged in as much confusion as everyone else.
“Are you okay?” Yelena asked him.
“Yeah, had a bad dream last night, so we were up kind of late talking about it. We didn’t hear you come in, sorry,” He muttered the apology kind of as an afterthought.
“Hey, Honey, open the door,” Bucky said as he leaned against the frame.
“Come on, Walker, mind your own business,” Ava said as she and Alexi left the hallway and moved to the kitchen for coffee and cereal.
“Ah, but the show was getting good,” John scoffed. He patted Bob on the back in some kind of phony commiseration, before everyone left in search of caffeine.
“Honey, open the door,” Bucky said again, firmer this time. He could practically hear your nervous pacing. “Okay, I’m coming in.” He gripped the door handle finding it locked. Now he was pissed. He shoved the door, and it gave under his strength. “What the fuck, Honey?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked putting your hands over your face.
“Honey, what are you talking about? You and Bob?” he asked as he leaned against the door to keep it closed.
“I know he’s off limits, and dangerous. He was just afraid and didn’t want to be alone, nothing happened,” you were talking a million miles a minute and Bucky was struggling to keep up. You finally pulled your hands away from your face to dry your sweaty palms on your shirt, and that’s when Bucky noticed the bruises on your neck.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked standing straight and quickly scanning the rest of your body for injury.
“What- Bucky!” you squealed louder this time as he grabbed your arm and hauled you out to the main room. The team all turned and made space for him as he brought you out in front of where Bob was sitting on the couch. John took a very large and nervous step back. He hadn’t seen this version of Bucky in a while. Yelena took a step closer to Bob ready to take action.
“What the hell did you do?” He asked and Bob flinched. He hadn’t seen the bruises that had formed as a result of his nightmare. Shame covered his features, and he refused to look up at you or Bucky.
“It was an accident!” You shouted, pulling yourself out of his grip. “Besides, I’m fine.” You look sternly at Bucky then softer at Bob, who manages a small smile in your direction. “Listen, I’m gonna get my things and go. I’ll see you at the office,” you sighed to Bucky. You grabbed your bag and computer before heading to the elevator.
“Nice going,” John said deadpan. “The only person anyone has brought home recently that’s not afraid of us and doesn’t have an evil ulterior motive.”
“Fuck off, Walker,” Bucky sighed deeply. He was going to need to apologize to you. A lot.
#Sunny & Honey#Honey#Bob reynolds x reader#x reader#Bucky Barnes#The Thunderbolts#john Walker#yelena belova#ava starr#alexi shostakov#Bob Reynolds#Slow Burn (ish)
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"Imagine Being Love by Me" Pt 2


Smoke x Annie x OC Sinners Fic
Modern AU
Hello ! the bees in my brain are screaming, they demand I write so here I am back again. My 2025 motto has been 'don't be afraid to be seem trying" and BOY do I feel seen. I love Pearline and Sammie so there's more of them in this section. Also I now have a summary I guess!
part 1
Warnings: None for this part.
Word count: 2930
Enjoy!
Cassidy has arrived in Clarksdale, Mississippi to visit her best friend from college Pearline. Pearline is excited to show Cassidy around and allow her to sample all Mississippi has to offer, which may include more learnings and love than Cassidy is ready for.
Day 1 of 16
Cassidy hefted her backpack further up her back and wheeled her suitcase out the automatic doors of the airport. She paused the Mississippi heat pressed in on her from all directions. She looked around and took in how perfectly flat the horizon was all around her, past the airport parking lot the world seemed to go on forever here. She turned her face up toward the sun and took in a deep breath, it was so different from New York. Different from the city but even different from where she was living now further upstate away from the noise. A honk to her left caused her eyes to pop open and she turned to see Pearline standing in the open door of her car waving at her.
“Babygirl!” A smile burst across Cassidy’ face as she shouted, hefting her suitcase up and hustling towards her. She dumped her bag and caught a squealing Pearline in a hug. Arms wrapped around her shoulders she squeezed her friend hard, bending her back and rocking her side to side.
“Ah, I fucking missed you girl!” Pearline moaned.
“Missed you too, come here lemme look at you” Cassie murmured.
Taking a step back, her hands running down Pearline’s arms to clasp her hands and took a good look at her friend for the first time in a while. Pearline looked amazing. Fresh braids pulled into a high ponytail, her gorgeous chocolate brown skin, glowing and even, her eyes were sparkling.
“Goddamn girl, is it love or is it the Souf that got you shining like this? I am tryna get like you, shit” Cassidy exclaimed.
Pearline swatted her in the arm for her terrible impression of a Southern accent.
“Look at me?! Girl look at you! Daddy got a retwist just for me huh? Look at how long yo hair is.”
“Yeah you know, I had to get right before I meet all your friends. I can't have people talking shit about us city slickers” Cassie pushed her hand through locs and shook them out, preening slightly.
Pearline shoved Cassie away and beeped open the truck of her car, “Get yo shit and let's go city slicker”
After loading her luggage into the car, Cassie settled in the passenger seat as Pearline pulled out onto the road. The flat Mississippi terrain whipping by the window, nothing as far as the eye could see, few trees off in the horizon.
“I can't believe you made it” Pearline said, awe coating her tone.
“I promised I would, shit is settled at the farm and it's cold as shit right now I would rather be here.” Cassie replied, turning to look at her friend.
“I believed you when you promised but damn it's been years I've missed you, girl”
“Aht aht, it's been 18 months not years! And I've missed you too that's why I'm here, I'm ready to root and toot or whatever y'all do out here” Cassie laughed.
Pearline was her roommate sophomore year of college. Still homesick and feeling lost in the ever swelling crowds of privileged white folks the two of them struck a fast friendship.
They had been with each other through so much, internships, microaggressions, bad break ups (Cassidy had notoriously keyed Pearl's garbage ex boyfriends car, he spent years crossing the street every time he saw Cassidy in town, bitch ass) and even Pearline finally packing up and moving back home to Mississippi.
The last almost two years had been filled with daily phone calls and weekly zoom sessions. Cassie listening to Pearl wax about reconnecting with Sammie after so many years away, hearing about her truly making a life for herself now. For the last 8 months Pearline had been begging Cassie to finally come down and visit, the club that Sammie and her performed at regularly was celebrating its 2 year anniversary and it seemed the perfect time for Cassie to take a much needed vacation.
Cassie pulled her phone out of her pocket, opened the camera and held it forward so both her and Pearline were in the frame.
“Smile baby!” She shouted, Pearline’s eyes darted briefly away from the road to smile brightly at the camera.
“I got one y'all! Snagged ha and dragged ha ass out to the Delta!” She called whooping like a cowboy and beating on her horn as they continued down the empty road. Laughter burst from Cassie thick and full and she fumbled to end the video.
~~~
Hours later in the front room of Club Juke, Annie was leaning against the bar, swiping through Instagram on her phone. A new story posted by Pearline caught her attention and she clicked it. A boomerang showing the arrivals gate at the airport showed from 6 hours ago, “ma girl’s finally here !” The caption read.
Next a repost from someone else's story showed Pearline driving and a gorgeous black woman sitting in the passenger seat shouted “Smile, baby!” Annie was struck by how bright and wide the woman's smile was; she missed the rest of the post. She fumbled her finger and replayed it again, this time the woman's playful rich giggles ringing in her ear.
The next story post was from 30 minutes ago, a repost from Sammie's story, it showed Pearline and the women standing in almost a prom pose next to Sammie's truck, Pearline beaming at the camera while the women had one arm around her waist and looked down at her with a smirk. Sammie had caption it “third wheeling with your woman and her stud best friend” followed by a face palm emoji and the crying emoji.
Annie noticed the woman was tagged and briefly hesitated before clicking on her IG, it was private to her disappointment. Her bio read:
Cassie and sassy.
Brooklyn born n raised
Farmer/Rancher in Seneca NY
She/They/Daddy 💦
Annie bit her lip and swiped back to Pearline's story to watch the video again. Captivated, she didn't notice Elijah beside her till he kissed her temple. She jumped, and he cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Who dat?” He looked at her phone screen now showing the photo of Pearline and Cassie.
“Pearline got a friend from school visiting, that's her. Cassie.”
She tapped back to the video and turned the phone for Elijah to see. He looked properly, the corners of his mouth turning up unconsciously at the sound of her laughter. Annie watched him. When the photo of Pearline and Cassie came up she held her thumb to the screen so it wouldn't time out and Elijah turned the phone to take a better look.
Cassie was taller than Pearline even in her customary 5 inch heels. She had dark brown skin glowing and dark dreadlocks curled and tumbled over her shoulders. She was wearing an oversized white button up held together with only two buttons done up, thick belt buckle at the waist her jeans tight and snug over her thighs till it fell down straight over her huge chunky combat boots. Big gold rings on the fingers of her hand around Pearline's waist matching the gold necklace disappear down the collar of her shirt.
Elijah's eyes roamed over her as Annie watched his reaction, he was so busy studying her figure he didn't catch Sammie's caption, when he did his jaw clenched and he caught Annie's eyes.
“She's pretty.” He said, pressing his lips to Annie's cheek as he pulled away. “C'mon baby car’s warmed up”
Annie tapped back to the video letting Cassie's voice and laughter wash over her. “Pretty.” She hummed and followed Elijah out.
Day 2 of 16
Club Juke was absolutely packed. Line outside going well down the street and curving in front of the tamale place. Cassie’s eyes widened as Sammie pulled into what seemed to be a VIP parking spot right up front. Pearline was checking her makeup in the mirror, cleaning the lines of her lip look. Cassie patted her pockets to make sure she had her phone and cards on her. Her own lips are lightly red and glossy. She looked up in time to catch Sammie staring adoringly at Pearline, hand forgotten on the keys in the car's ignition. Pearline noticed and gave him a questioning look and gentle smile. Sammie leaned across and ruined all her hard work by giving her a full kiss on her lips. She yelped and returned the kiss, swatted him on the shoulder as he leaned back.
“You beautiful” he said to her shrugging. He killed the engine and hopped out, walking around the car to open Pearline and Cassie’s door. Cassie looked up startled, from where she was checking out the patrons in line.
“Such a gentleman our Preacherboy is” she said sweetly as she hopped out. Pearline slid from her seat, like liquid sin. She was wearing a very tiny hot pink sleeveless dress, sparkling tights and shiny black heels that made her legs seem to go on for years. Cassie could completely understand how distracted Sammie was every time he looked at her.
They were so sweet it made Cassie’s teeth ache looking at them. Pearline deserved someone who was so in love with her they couldn't see the world around them and that was Sammie for sure.
Sammie’s arm slid around Pearline’s tiny waist in that dress and held out his hand to help her step onto the curb. He didn't follow and hung back so he could watch her walk in front of him. And walk she did. Cassie stifled a giggle, and followed her as she made her way to the entrance.
Both Sammie and Pearl were recognized by folks on line, calling out to them asking if they would be singing tonight which Sammie denied.
“Just hanging with family tonight yall, sorry” he said as the bouncer waved them inside.
Pearline has described Club Juke to Cassie multiple times, having been heavily involved in the place since its grand opening. But seeing it in all its majesty was something else. Unlike the clubs Cassie frequented when she lived in Brooklyn Club Juke was all southern charm and what could only be described as black opulence. Two floors, huge full bar, stages and raised platforms the space was amazing and had all the grandeur of a theater.
Everywhere Cassie looked there was amazingly dressed gorgeous black and brown folk dancing, drinking and chatting. Glasses clinked and the music was soaring around the room. Cassie was almost breathless with excitement.
Tonight’s gonna be a good night. She thought giddily.
Pearline made her way to the less crowded bar away from the stage and waved the bartender over. She plopped herself onto a stool and turned to grab one for Cassie. Cassie was gazing around eyes wide and impressed. Pearline caught her wrist to get her attention and gestured to the seat, Cassie shook her head and leaned against the bar to Pearline’s right keeping the door and the crowd in her sight. Sammie pressed in on Pearline’s left and began chatting with the bartender.
“You can sit. It’s chill here Cassie, I promise.” Pearline leaned in closer to Cassie.
Cassie was already shaking her head trying to deny that she was on edge but Pearl knew her too well.
“Maybe I should've wore a dress.” She leaned in to speak in Pearline’s ear. She had already caught people looking her way as they walked in and this isn't even the most masculine she could look.
“Stop, you look fucking amazing and like I said you good here. I wouldn't bring you nowhere where people don't know how to act.” Pearline swatted her shoulder and then squeezed her arm in reassurance.
“And my cousins don't play about shit like that. People probably not lookin for the reason you think, me and Pearl here most nights. Clarksdale is still a small city you just a new face.” Sammie said, leaning over to hand both Pearline and Cassie drinks.
“We got you, don't worry.’ Pearline added.
“Alright okay, thank you and cheers yall!” They all clinked glasses.
“My friend Therese is performing later tonight, I want you meet her, she's good people. Her and Corey too.” Sammie nodded to Pearline’s words leaning into her side and kissing her shoulder.
Cassie smiled again watching them, Sammie seemed like he couldn't spend 5 minutes without his lips or hands somewhere on Pearline. They had been together for 2 years already and seemed still well entrenched in their honeymoon era.
“She been texting me all day nervous as hell but she's gonna be great” Pearline continued snuggling back into Sammie’s side. Cassie nodded along listening as she took in the crowd again.
Much how Cassie imagined the red sea parting the crowd around the entrance parted giving Cassie clear view what could possibly be the most beautiful woman she had ever seen walking into Club Juke.
A vision in bright chartreuse, one shoulder long sleeved number, deep rich brown skin fucking glowing like she held the light of the sun in her chest, thick as fucking hell, the women was tall and confident her eyes scanning the room.
Cassie swallowed heavily and tore her gaze away, last thing she wanted was to be caught gawking here. She took a gulp of her drink and blinked hard, biting down on her lip she stole another glance up.
The woman had made her way to the bar on the other side of Club Juke, on her walk there she had been stopped multiple times, kissing cheeks, giving out hugs and waving at people too far from her to greet properly.
The bartender almost tossed himself over the bar to greet her, she asked him something, and he turned and pointed to the upper level. Watching her from the back was almost as good as the front. Her dress was floor length and fit her body like she was born in it. Her ass sat high and full and the curve of her lower back was a vision. The sleeveless side of the dress exposed her shoulder and the tender nape of her neck. Cassie was awestruck.
Maybe southern women are just built different cause goddamn. Cassie thought, she tore her gaze away and again and realized Pearline was no longer talking.
Caught out Cassie froze, meeting Pearline's smirking gaze.
“Ion wanna hear it Pearl.” Cassie said quickly turning to face the bar.
Pearline was quiet which made Cassie wary, she picked up her cocktail napkin and gestured towards Cassie, confused she leaned closer to her friend. Who then wiped roughly at the corner of Cassie's mouth and shouted “Wipe the drool off ya face den!”
“Stop it Pearl get offa me” Cassie squirmed out of her hold, her drink spilled over he fingers as she freed herself. Cassie shook her hand out and placed her drink on the bar. Pearline was still cackling as Sammie chuckled beside her.
“Ugh I hate y'all, where's the bathroom you nosey bitch?” Cassie pouted, wiping both sides of her mouth with her dry hand to make sure she wasn't actually drooling. Pearline burst into laughter again and pointed out the restrooms under the staircase to the second floor. Cassie huffed and made her way through the crowd towards the restroom. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and as she looked down to check it she collided with someone. Her phone clattered out of her hands and to the ground.
Shea butter, tangerine and herbs filled her nostrils. She stepped back an apology already on her lips. She looked up and met gorgeous almond shaped brown eyes, perfectly lined and surrounded by full lashes.
Cassie choked on her own tongue. Something that looked a lot like recognition came over the woman's face and she pursed her lips, gaze dragging over Cassie's face.
“Sorry, I wasn't looking.” The woman's voice was rich and low. She had such a smooth accent that Cassie wasn't able to place but it tickled in her brain. She smiled softly. Cassie was already shaking her head, waving away her apology.
“No, it was me I shouldn't be on my phone like that anyway.” Cassie said.
“It could've been very important.” she replied.
“Couldn't be, I've already forgotten what I was looking at” Cassie said finding herself slightly outta breath the longer she spoke to her. There eyes were locked and Cassie had no interest in looking away.
“Well let's see” she bent down, ignoring Cassie's protests and scooped Cassie phone off the ground and held it out to her.
Cassie reached out to take it and their fingers brushed, sending tingles down Cassie's back.
“So?” The women looked expectantly at Cassie, eyebrow raised. “Is it important?” She asked.
Cassie struggled to tear her eyes away from her gaze and unlocked her phone. The notification showed a new text message from Cassie's ex Olivia. She involuntarily sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes locking her phone and shoving it back into her pocket.
The woman's laughter caused her to look up again. She had one hand cupped over her mouth as she laughed. Her face completely lit up in her humor and Cassie felt her jaw slacken slightly again.
“I guess not then” she said still smiling and looking Cassie right in the eyes.
Cassie opened her mouth to reply when the woman’s own phone lit up and she looked down to reply to a text.
“Sadly this is important, but you have a good night” she said as she held her phone. She turned to walk away and then said over her shoulder “I'll see you later maybe?”
Cassie nodded and replied “Uh I sure hope so”
She got another beautiful glowing smile in return. The woman made her way to the staircase and disappeared up to the second level as Cassie watched her walk away.
Mhm they built different down here for sure. Cassie thought as she made her way on to the line for the restroom. She didnt notice dark heavy eyes watching her interaction from the second level of the club.
~~~
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think <3
#smoke x annie#smoke x black oc#sinners 2025#sinners#smoke x annie x oc#annie sinners#elijah moore#sinners fic#sinners fanfiction#annie x oc#annie x fem!oc#back like i never left cause i didnt#pearline sinners#sammie x pearline#sammie moore#michael b jordan#wunmi mosaku
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Why Me? - Part 15
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)
Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, fluff, lying, talk of abuse and bruises, swearing, brief mention of assault, just a tiny bit smutty (lotsa kissin'), shitty exes
Word Count: 11k (my bad)
Summary: You're on top of the world after your first real date with Bob. Things are starting to look up for not only you, but your dad when he asks for a favor. But of course, there's always something (or someone) from your past that will try to ruin any good thing you have.
A/N: This one only took like a month and a half rather than the regular three or four, it's a miracle! The story's really moving along now and I hope y'all are just as excited as I am. That being said I do love the comments and reblogs, they keep me motivated :)
Happy reading!
Masterlist

Bob pauses. Just for a second, allowing himself to rest his forehead against your own. Breathing you in, he brings his hand up to cup your jaw. Giving himself a view of your face, he gently caresses his thumb over your cheek as your eyes flutter to close. The Beach Boys are still echoing through the living space. A different song now, but he can’t place it at the moment when his thoughts are somewhere else.
“I wanted to be a gentleman, kiss you on the cheek after walking you to your door.” Your breathy laugh tickles his cheeks and he can’t help but smile.
“As nice as that sounds, I think I like this better.” He leans back, continuing to stroke your skin.
“I know, but you’re not supposed to kiss a girl on the first date.” A laugh escapes you. A genuine belly laugh as you try to turn your head away as you do so. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing”, you catch your breath, “It’s just, to be fair you did kiss me before a date was even a question.” He hums in thought.
“If my memory serves me correctly, you actually kissed me first”, he points out. Your jaw drops before you gather yourself.
“Ok, well you kissed me back”, you point a playful finger at him. “And then you felt me up in your driveway.” His jaw drops this time as he steps back from you, feigning offense. Even if he is joking, it’s obvious you caught him off guard through the sudden flush in his cheeks.
“I- I felt you up?”, he borderline scoffs. “That’s hilarious. You were the one with the wanderin’ hands”, he gestures wildly. You try hard to stifle a wild laugh you know is so close to breaking the surface.
“Oh really?” He nods, so sure. You bow your head, working up the courage to say what you want to.
“Well, my memory’s kind of fuzzy. Wanna show me what I supposedly did?” His hands fall to his sides, back straightening as he gives you a wide eye stare. His chest rises and falls as you tilt your head in his direction. Daring him.
He steps toward you, reclaiming his spot with his hand against your cheek. You inhale a deep breath as his mouth gets closer toward your own. Closing your eyes in anticipation you can feel his lips just a hair’s breadth away from yours.
KNOCK KNOCK
The sound coming from the door has you jumping out of your skin and far away from Bob. Somewhere Sylvia runs from the noise and retreats to Bob’s room.
The fear running down your spine reminds you of everything outside the bubble Bob created. You shouldn’t be here. You’re not supposed to be in his arms, but that’s exactly where you found yourself just seconds ago.
The two of you still. As if you don’t move they won’t somehow realize that you’re there.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
The pounding fist comes again, and this time Bob clears his throat, motioning for you to stay put. He leaves and you hear a familiar voice come from the other room.
“Harry sent me over for a cup of sugar, he’s in the middle of making a cake and didn’t realize we were out. Silly man.”
“Of course, lemme go grab that for you”, Bob answers him, a bit breathless.
“I’m so sorry to bother you about this.” The sound of the door closing and voices trailing closer has you desperately looking around the sparse living room for a place to hide. The position of the staircase gives you no way to head upstairs without passing right by them. You quickly realize this is a lost cause and you’ll have to face it head on.
“No, that’s alright. I didn’t know Harry baked.”
Bob walks in first, giving you a deer in the headlights look before turning right into the kitchen.
“You know him, that man is just full of surprises.” Rich follows right behind him, already searching the space. And when his eyes come up with you, he has the audacity to act shocked. “Miss Mitchell! What a surprise”, sure it is. The light must catch your face in the best way because his joy is spoiled as he gets a better look. “Oh my god, who’d you get in a fight with?”
You can’t help but greet him with a fast smile, albeit a little panicked. Bob is busy trying to get him a cup of sugar as quickly as he can, leaving you to entertain his guest.
“Oh, just a baseball. I’m fine. How are you and Harry doing?”, you eagerly redirect the conversation. He takes in your outfit choice and flushed cheeks while you twitch in your spot.
“We are just wonderful”, he can’t hide the satisfied smile on his face from your presence. You’re almost sure that he saw you walking down the street with Bob and has a bet going with Harry that you’re actually here.
Bob returns from the kitchen with the sugar, attempting to usher Rich to the exit.
“Have you had a fun night?”, he asks with an air of teasing.
“Oh yeah, just sitting around with Sylvia while Bob went on his date. We had a lot of fun watching The Office.”
“Really?”, he squints his eyes as if he knows. And you know he does. There’s always the chance he saw Bob come back with you and not leave again until your walk.
Damn it. Your heart skips a beat and jumps back down to your stomach as you stumble through your words.
“Here’s your sugar Rich!”, Bob forces the container into his hands as he practically pushes him back to the front door.
“I should leave you two, lovely as always seeing you Miss Mitchell!”, he yells back as Bob shuts the door. Sliding his glasses off, Bob runs a hand down his face as he rests against the front door. Acting as a second barrier in case Rich decides Harry forgot something else for the “cake”.
He finds you waiting in the hallway, chewing the inside of your cheek. He huffs out a laugh.
“So he definitely knows”, you assert as you lean against the wall.
“Yeah, that means that he and Harry know.” Bob decides against telling you that Harry saw the two of you against his truck the other week. He’ll just let you assume Rich is telling Harry what he saw tonight. He’s sure Harry hasn’t told Rich what he saw anyway. Pretty sure at least.
Bob reaches for your hand as you cross the remaining space. You should be heading back soon, and he knows it. Which is why he gathers you in his arms as you rest your head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry”, he whispers into the silence. You look back at him, a furrow in your brow.
“For Rich?”, you ask with a confused smile. He shakes his head, but you stop him before he can start. “Listen to me, Bob. In spite of every hoop we’ve jumped through, you still managed to give me the best date I’ve ever been on.” His initial instinct is to scrunch his face.
“Really? What kind of losers have you been going on dates with?” You hide your face in his shoulder again.
The kind where you hope you never see them again, that kind Bob.
“I’m not kidding. The effort you put in makes a girl feel special.” He’s subconsciously starting to sway with you again in a quiet motion. It reminds you of the ocean. Not the furious tides and currents that sweep people under and drag them out. No. The kind that allows you to float along the surface. The calming ones that almost lull you to sleep while the water laps at your arms, sun kissing your skin. The kind that reminds you of Bob’s eyes. You could get lost at sea just looking at him.
“I’m glad”, he whispers into your hair, placing a kiss at the top of your head. You almost don’t feel deserving of this kind of attention. He’s too good. “Is it the kind of date that makes you wanna go on a second one?”
You lift your head and see him giving you a soft smile. Nervous, but still there. Your hand runs over his jaw as you nod your head. There’s no hesitance when the two of you meet in the middle, and you feel him smiling against your lips.
You’ve been lucky enough to never eject from your aircraft, but now you know what it must feel like. Falling.
-----------------------
Bob kissed you once more, much like a gentleman would. And then drove you home. You weren’t surprised to find both Rich and Harry sitting on their porch when you left. Maybe Harry finished baking his “cake” early.
As much as Bob wanted to walk you back up to your door, he refrains. Opting instead to squeeze your hand and watch you go until the door is safely shut.
“Hey, how’d it go?”, your dad asks as he lounges on the couch. He must have left the bar early.
“Good”, you tell him as you try to wipe the grin off your face. “Sylvia’s a doll.” You try your darndest to avoid any more questions as you undo your shoes at the door. Your dad stands directly in front of the staircase, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blocking your path.
“Did Bob say how his date went?” You expertly shrug it off as you avoid his eyes.
“Yeah, I think it went well. Said he’s going on a second date with her, so we’ll see what happens.”
“Wow.” “Wow what?”
“Didn’t know Bob was bold enough to ask for a second date while on the first, good for him.” He’s still standing directly in your way damn it.
“Yeah”, you chuckle as you attempt to sidestep him, “You’d be surprised.” He stands his ground while he folds his arms across his chest. Something you only see him do when he gets serious. That or nervously running his hands together.
“Well, I’m gonna-”, you motion with your shoe to the stairs behind his head. He turns, but doesn’t move. You cock your head, squinting in his direction. “Why are you being so weird?” His brows fly up his forehead, but you can tell he’s not completely there.
“I’m- I’m not being weird. I was just wondering if we could have our catch up tonight.” Shit. This cannot be a coincidence.
“Oh our fortnightly meetings?”, you try to laugh it off. “Dad, I’m tired. Can we do this tomorrow?” He contemplates it for a moment, but lets you go.
“Yeah, I guess we can”, he forces a smile before kissing your head. “Goodnight, kid.”
As you reach the top of the stairs, you take a second to look down. He’s still standing there, but this time with his hand rubbing his temples. Whatever it is, it can’t be good. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this anxious.
-----------------------
You hardly get any sleep that night. Even if you had the most amazing time with Bob, your overthinking has wrecked your sleep schedule.
There’s no way your dad can know, right? Right. And even if he somehow thinks there’s a possibility that you even went on a date with Bob all you’re going to do is deny, deny, deny. He can’t possibly have any kind of proof. Damn you for wanting to wear a dress for once.
Your father is already up for the day. He must have an even worse internal clock than you do, because he’s always up and ready by 5:00 am. This time, he greets you with a cup of coffee as you meet him in the kitchen. Steeling your nerves, you try to ignore the way your hand shakes as you reach for the mug he’s prepared you.
He doesn’t even notice. There’s something else weighing on his mind, and you don’t think you can handle one more second not knowing.
“How’d you sleep?”, he asks.
“Ok, spit it out”, you take him off guard. “What is going on?” He sighs, shaking off his wide eyes from your bluntness as he sets his Navy emblazoned mug down. He rubs his worn hands together as you take a deep breath. Here it comes.
“I’m going to ask Penny to marry me.” Oh- that is not what you were expecting to hear. He peeks a look at you from under his bowed head and you’re silent before you gather your bearings.
“Dad”, you almost gasp, “That’s amazing!” He visibly relaxes at your words, shoulders falling from where they were at his ears. You get up and give him a hug he wasn’t expecting. You’re amazed he doesn’t know anything, but you’re also elated he’s finally taking things seriously with Penny.
“Wait”, you push yourself away from him, “Have you talked to Amelia yet?”
“Not yet”, he rubs the back of his neck, “But I am going to. This is another reason why I wanted to talk to you.” He gives you a look. One that tells you he’s about to ask for a favor.
“What do you need?”, you eye him warily.
“I was hoping to get together and have a family dinner sometime this week. And maybe you can, I don’t know, talk to Amelia? Warm her up to the idea a little bit.”
“You think she’s going to be upset about it?” He weighs his head from side to side, turning to clean his mug. You down the rest of your drink, now able to stomach the topic when it’s not you.
“She’s not exactly my biggest fan.”
“Dad, she’s just protective of her mom. You can’t blame her for being a little apprehensive when you’ve been in and out of her life for the better part of 30 years.” He pauses at the realization, you do as well as you say the words. He will always go back to Penny. No matter what. And this time he’s here to stay.
“I think once she knows that you plan on proposing it’ll just solidify whatever you’ve told her already. I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.” He scoffs, staring at a point on the counter.
It’s quiet as he contemplates your words, only interrupting as you start to scrub your own mug.
“Why don’t you ever go on dates?” The dish slips out of your hand, and by some miracle doesn’t break as it ricochets in the sink. You huff out a nervous laugh.
“What?”
“Sorry, I just mean I’ve never met anyone you’ve dated. And I know for sure you haven’t gone on any dates since we got here.” Oh if only you knew. You take a second to collect your thoughts, nodding along to whatever he’s saying.
“I don’t know”, you shrug, “Just hasn’t been something I’m seeking out.” Which is the definitive truth. You weren’t seeking Bob out in any capacity other than by making a friend. And now look at you, head over heels for the WSO.
“Why not?”
“Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”, you glare at him from the corner of your eye.
“I just want you to be happy”, he shrugs.
“I am happy”, you conclude. “ I genuinely am, and maybe I don’t want a man coming along and ruining that. Plus-”, you add as you dry your hands on a dish towel, “I’ve seen what mankind has to offer, and so far I’m not impressed.” Translation: I don’t want a repeat of past mistakes. One bad experience is enough to ruin any ideation of a future with a happy ending.
Well, up until this point at least. This was sincerely your head space before you found out good men exist outside of fiction.
Bob is the first one to ever treat you like more than just a title, or a warm body. He treats you like a person. But not only that, he values and respects you. Something you didn’t think would be so hard to ask for.
He raises his hands in surrender, dropping the subject. For now.
-----------------------
You are ever so grateful for the reprieve Bob offered you over the weekend. Because Monday back at work is complete hell. Bob’s still driving you, which is nice to have some alone time where you can be yourselves. But when you get to work it’s a whole other story.
Thick packets are already at desks for the team to look at, and Mav goes over every single maneuver you’re expected to relearn and perfect in the next two weeks. All of them are evasive, which means more dogfights, which means more pushups to whoever loses.
By Wednesday you’re tasked with dogfight after dogfight, staying in the air as long as possible. It’s starting to put a strain on every muscle in your body, so even when you get to the tarmac you’re already flopping on your belly even if you didn’t lose. With the amount of dogfights each of you is competing in, it’s a miracle if you aren’t doing at least 300 pushups by the end of the day.
You can see it draining the rest of the team, as well as yourself. Bob almost has to wake you up when he stops at your house after work on Thursday.
“You ok?”, he asks, blinking hard under his glasses. His hair is almost completely slicked back from the amount of time it’s had to sit under his helmet today. Both of you reek of sweat and fuel, but it doesn’t stop the temptation to pull him closer. You stop yourself when you realize it’s broad daylight on your street, but god. You just wanna fall asleep with him next to you.
“Yeah”, you give him a tired smile, “Just wish I could go to sleep instead of dinner at Penny’s.”
“What about tomorrow? We can put on a movie and pretend to watch it while we’re asleep.” You don’t want to tell him your mind is wandering to a lazy makeout session on his couch as well, but a car whizzing by bursts your bubble.
“I think Fanboy said something about going to the Hard Deck tomorrow night”, you groan. “It might look weird if we’re the only two not there.” Not to mention that if Penny’s working your dad will most likely be moping around the house waiting until she gets done. He contemplates this for a second, and tries his best not to look any more deflated than he already is.
“Saturday?”, you suggest.
“Saturday”, he smiles. You squeeze his hand and hop out, resisting the temptation to do more. It’s been absolutely killing you to not kiss him hello or goodbye, but you know that will make it all the more sweeter when you’re actually alone this weekend. By then it will be more than a week of not feeling his lips on yours, god when did you get so desperate?
To be honest, even if you haven’t done more than holding hands in his truck, he’s made this week a lot easier than it would have been without him. It’s taking its toll on the entire squad, but even just catching his eye from across the room, or bumping his fist before take off sets you at ease.
It was an accident when you knocked your knee into his at the lunch table Monday, but he knocked you right back. It’s become your unspoken way of checking in with each other without anyone noticing. Just another part of your language no one else has the liberty of understanding or realizing is being communicated right under their noses.
-----------------------
“Jesus, dad. Calm down, she’s not gonna bite”, you tell him as you make your way up to Penny’s home. He’s tapping the side of the bowl with whatever concoction he mixed together last minute. You can’t help but yawn as you climb the last couple of steps to the door.
“Hey, look alive”, he almost scolds you, “You have a very important task here.”
“If I wasn’t in the air for five hours today or doing like a million pushups after, I might have the energy to argue with you.” Damn Hangman, getting the jump on you right before you were ready to finish for the day. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“You don’t know teenage girls.”
“Um, I think you’re forgetting I was one.” You knock at the door while giving him a lethal side eye.
“Yeah, but you weren’t-”, he weighs his words, “You didn’t do the normal teenage things.” You quirk an eyebrow.
“Oh you mean I didn’t steal cars or get drunk at parties?” His mouth falls open and he forgets his troubles for a split second. In all truth you were a very well mannered teenager. Respectable. Quiet. You had to be.
“Who told you I stole cars?”
“When did you steal a car?”, Amelia asks as the door cracks open. The two of you almost jump out of your skin at the sudden hormone riddled apparition at the front door.
“Hey Amelia!”, you greet in an over cheerful manner for someone who you would describe as a walking corpse. You’re sure your smile looks more painful than genuine. She must see the same thing you feel, because with a side eye that rivals your own she moves aside to let the two of you in.
Penny greets you in the kitchen, and you’re about to ask if she needs any help when your dad nods his head in the direction Amelia went in. You follow his lead, leaving the two of them.
Amelia is sitting in the living room, textbook open on her lap as she takes notes. She doesn’t acknowledge you as you sit on the other edge of the couch.
“What kind of homework are you working on?”
“Algebra”, she replies without looking up. You tap the sides of your thighs, glancing around the room, admiring the frames of pictures and seaside decor. The silence carries on as your fried brain tries finding another topic.
“How’s school going?”
“It’s fine”, she answers dryly. “How’s work?”, she surprises you by asking. But at least it gives you an in.
“It’s alright, Mav has been riding us pretty hard this week. But I know he means well.” She stops what she’s doing and quirks her head.
“Do you always call him Mav?”
“No, usually only in respect to work. That or Captain Mitchell. But at home he’s just dad.” She nods, hesitating for only a second before going back to her work. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know”, she shrugs, “I’m never sure whether to call him Pete or Mav, but if he’s gonna marry my mom I guess I should ask him what he prefers since I’ll be seeing him more often.”
“Well, if I know him he-”, you make a quick turn to stare at the girl, “Wait, how do you know about that?” She shrugs again.
“My mom’s talked to me about the possibility, it’s just a matter of time really”, she answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“So you’re not upset about it?”
“No”, she shakes her head, “He makes my mom happy, and he’s already promised me he’s not going to break her heart again. I want to believe him.” You laugh silently to yourself. You wished you had the attitude of this girl when you were her age.
“Trust me, if he does he’ll have more than just you to answer to. But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he will.” She nods at you, and then goes back to her homework. She leaves you feeling a little better, but still in silence as your dad “helps” Penny. You try to recall what you were talking about the last time you were together. Something about Amelia just being asked to a dance?
“So… you getting excited for Homecoming?”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” She keeps her head down.
“Do what?”
“Try and make an effort”, she so plainly replies in an annoyed sigh. “I already have step-siblings, I know how this works. Just because our parents might be getting married doesn’t mean we have to have a relationship.” Her attitude leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you try not to grimace from old feelings surfacing at the comment. You take a breath.
“You know, I had step-siblings, too. It was always awkward around them, and neither of our parents tried to make an effort to integrate our families. I tried to get to know them, but they never seemed interested.” Her pencil stops moving on her notebook paper, but she still won’t look up. “I don’t want it to be that way between the two of us. Even if I am older by a few years-”
“Try more than a decade”, she interrupts.
“Ok, fine- Even if I am old enough to be your teen mom”, you get her to crack on that one, “I’d still like to try and be somewhat of a step-sister to you. If you want.” Her eyes stop on a single word, not reading just…staring. She doesn’t say anything, and you’ve almost decided to give up before she speaks.
“I’ve never had a sister before.” You exhale in relief.
“Neither have I really. Do you want one?” Her eyes dart to you, but you don’t look away. Steadying your gaze, you wait for her to come to you.
“It might be nice”, she tries to shrug the gravity off of her words.
“I mean, you can come to me about stuff you don’t want to talk to your mom about, we can have girls nights, you can call me at any hour- oh! And you can tell me all about the boy who asked you to your dance.” You try not to get ahead of yourself, but the way Amelia lulls her head back and tries to hide her smile just makes you want to keep going.
“But I’m serious. Whatever kind of relationship you want, I’m here for it.” The two of you come to a silent agreement and she continues on with her homework. Or at least that’s what you thought was happening. You’re left to twiddle your thumbs again while Mav and Penny get up to god knows what in the kitchen- actually maybe you should go see if they need any help.
“Do you mean it?”, the confident girl you’ve gotten to know starts to shrink in on herself. Nervous and insecure in the way she’s asking if you’ll stick around and be there for her. This is the kind of thing that reminds you of yourself at her age.
“Tell you what”, you turn and offer her your pinkie finger, “we’ll swear on it.” Her insecurity vanishes as she raises a brow.
“A pinkie promise? Are you serious?”
“Just gimme your pinkie you little shit”, she fails to hold back her laugh and gives you what you ask. The two of you lock fingers and you give her an unwavering stare. And with a nod of your heads the two of you forge the way for something neither of you have been a part of before.
“So does that mean I can ask you anything?” You squint, suspicious of where this is going.
“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer. Why?”
“Just wanted to know how you got the bruise”, she motions to your face. It had been fading nicely over the past week, now just a faint discoloration of your skin remains. You huff out a breath, it’s no use trying to lie to this girl.
“Rooster threw a baseball at me.” Her face screws up in curiosity.
“Is it because you punched him in the face?” Your brows scrunch as you try not to smile at her. Of course she knows. “You’re a good liar, he’s not”, she explains.
“He hit me by accident, he got punched in the face cause he’s an idiot.”
“What did he do?”. A humorless laugh escapes your lips.
“He said something extremely, extremely thoughtless and rude.”
“He probably deserved it”, she decides. You try to stifle your smile, but just like a sister would, she’s already taking your side.
“Soup’s on kids”, the two of you turn your heads at your dads arrival. You don’t know how long he was standing there, but if the smile that he gives you is any indication you know you got your job done for the night.
“We’re having soup?”, Amelia turns to you as you enter the kitchen.
“No, that’s just something old people say when dinner’s ready”, you joke. Your dad does not find it amusing.
-----------------------
The Hard Deck is bustling. Overflowing with aviators, sailors, and everyone in between. The setting sun casts a warm glow through the open windows, throwing every person in their best lighting. A carrier made port today, hence the warm welcome to those who haven’t been on land in months. If there was one place you’d go to get away from anything Navy related it would sure as shit not be the Hard Deck. But to you and others it’s a home away from home. Penny made sure of that.
The majority of your squadron showed up late to the party, opting to change into their civilian clothes rather than coming straight from work in your flight suits. Somehow you stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.
Bob picked Fanboy up first, leaving you to awkwardly squish in between them on the way over. You gave Bob an awkward smile, knocking your knee against his as Fanboy did up his own seatbelt.
Bob is more often than not Fanboy’s designated driver nowadays. Payback ends up leaving earlier than everyone else if he even comes out, he has a wife and kids after all. The rest of you… not so much.
Bob even relays the message Fanboy told him that he was either going to “get laid or fucked up” tonight. And you for one can’t wait to see how that works itself out.
Somehow there are always a gaggle of girls who just know when a deployment ends. And they’re always first in line to get into the Hard Deck. Fanboy being out of his uniform does not bode well in his favor tonight. Those just getting back from deployments are eager to let off some steam, and these women are just about willing to help anyone in a uniform.
Bob opens the door for you, and you give him a smile just a touch beyond polite as he tips his head. You catch Penny’s eye and give her a wave as you make your way through the crowd.
It’s all hustle and bustle before you finally find yourself at the pool table where Phoenix is showing Rachel how to play. You’re 99% sure she already knows how, and you give Nat a knowing smirk anyway as they stand up from their shot.
“Shit”, Fanboy reappears handing you a beer, “If I knew it was gonna be this busy I wouldn’t have suggested it.” He takes a swig of his own bottle as you eye the place. It’s shoulder to shoulder as people pack the bar, waiting for their drinks.
“All I know is that Penny and Jimmy better be swimming in tips by the end of the night”, you murmur into your bottle.
Phoenix moves over, handing the cues to you and Bob before heading back to get more drinks with Rachel. And that’s when you notice Bob’s cowboy boots peeking out from under his jeans. You try to subtly look up the expanse of his tall figure without him catching you. He’s busy re-racking the balls to notice, but that doesn’t mean other people haven’t.
Shaking him from your thoughts, you start the game. You circle around each other, throwing smart comments his way every once in a while. He tries to hide his mischievous smile, but you catch it as he bends for his turn. Usually Fanboy would be over here supervising whatever meticulous shot Bob’s attempting, but he’s disappeared somewhere around the room. Presumably to achieve one of his goals for the night.
Your teammates slowly appand you greet them as you take your final shot, beating Bob. Again. You give him a sympathetic look and shrug. He just shakes his head at you. Not in disbelief from you winning, more of a way to tell you it’s no use.
“Sorry, Bob. But you did a lot better this time!”, you laugh.
“Where’s your fight Bob?”, Hangman interrupts, “Let me show you how it’s supposed to be done.” He grabs the cue out of his hand, and Bob makes his way over to stand next to you.
“You put up a good fight”, you console him with a shoulder pat. He laughs to cover the buzz he feels from the contact, but you let your hand slide away before you have the urge to let it linger on the muscle.
A quiet figure walks up beside you, and you know who it is before he even speaks. The Hawaiian shirt hanging from his shoulders is so loud you don’t even need to look over.
It’s been better with the team. Rooster’s kept his mouth shut long enough he hasn’t had the chance of shoving his foot up there. Or you shoving your foot so far up his ass it comes out the other end.
Bob nudges your shoulder with his own, pointing to the corner of the room. Fanboy is attempting and failing to keep a girl’s attention. Her eyes keep drifting over his shoulder to someone else in a khaki uniform. You chuckle as Bob leans down so you can hear him over the din of the bar. His breath warm on your cheek.
“How long do you think he’s gonna hold her hostage over there?”
“I don’t know”, you smile, “but I’d say he’s going home shitfaced tonight.” Bob chuckles as you reach for your empty bottle.
“I’m getting another beer”, you tell him before leaving. You catch sight of Rachel waving Rooster over to her and Phoenix while Hangman is explaining his shot to Bob.
“Another round, Mantis?”, Penny asks as you approach.
“Just one. Oh- and a cup of peanuts please.”
“You got it”, she gives you a smile as you wait. You watch as Jimmy shovels ice into a glass and you’re almost tempted to ask for a cup. It is too damn hot in here.
“Mitchell, is that you?” Your stomach drops, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. Your teeth clench so hard you’re sure one of them has cracked. Your ears start to ring as the world keeps spinning around you. You haven’t heard that voice since-
“I knew it was.” Fuck.
-----------------------
“And that is how it’s done”, Hangman comments before the eight ball drops. “Did you see that, Bob?” He nods and feigns interest, as if he was watching the whole time. Fanboy dejectedly walks up to Bob’s side, huffing out a breath of frustration.
“That bad, huh?”, Bob asks him.
“I kept telling her I was in the Navy, but she didn’t seem to believe me.”
“Say she did believe you, what was your plan? You couldn’t have taken her back to your place, I drove you here.” Fanboy smirks.
“We coulda gone back to hers, or ya know- there are doors with locks around here.” Bob scrunches his face in disgust at the insinuation.
“What, the bathroom?” He simply shrugs, and returns to chugging his drink. The noise B Bob makes gathesr everyone else’s attention.
“Wouldn’t be the first time these bathrooms have seen some action”, Hangman joins in.
“That’s disgusting”, Rooster comments as he frowns, a beer bottle hanging from his fingers.
“Nah, you’re just too chicken shit to admit you did the deed in the ladies room.”
“Really Hangman?”, Phoenix adds in as she misses her shot, “You’re bragging about having sex where strangers shit?”
Bob is thoroughly enjoying the conversation, and knows you would find it just as amusing. You’ve actually been gone longer than it takes to get a beer, especially with Penny at the helm. He looks over his shoulder, eyes wandering the bar until he spots a glimpse of you behind a flight suit clad back. Everyone’s still arguing when he asks.
“Hey, who’s Mantis talking to?” A few of them stop and turn at the disruption. It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable as the man reaches to give you a hug. You don’t try to stop it, but you don’t reciprocate. Instead you wait until he’s done touching you before trying to create more distance.
You try to sidestep him, revealing the face of the stranger. He’s not ugly, but he has an air of pretentiousness that dissuades Bob from believing anything genuine is coming from his mouth.
“Is that Knoxville?”, Hangman asks with the pool cue in hand.
“Can’t be, last I heard he was with the Atlantic fleet”, Coyote adds.
“Who the hell is Knoxville?”, Rooster asks with a stern look. The man couldn’t look more concerned if he tried. If Bob knew any better he’d think he was ready to run over there himself. Bob’s just about to, but it looks like you’ve gained your footing as the surprise has worn off.
“Oh shit, that is Knoxville”, Coyote moves to get a better look.
“Again, who the hell is Knoxville?”, Bob asks this time, getting impatient.
“Just some jackass who thinks he’s too big for his britches.” Coyote replies as he eyes the scene along with everyone else.
“What are we all looking at?”, Phoenix appears behind the wall of men. Intrigue twisting into a mix of disgust and shock. “Oh my god.”
“You know Knoxville, too?”, Bob asks as you start to make your way over, jackass in tow.
“Knoxville? No. That’s Lieutenant Douchebag.”
-----------------------
He appeared out of nowhere. And then he hugged you like he was owed your touch. And now here you are, dragging yourself back to your team with your tail between your legs. This is embarrassing, no it’s actually humiliating. And now everybody else is going to think the same.
Without looking, you hand Bob his cup of peanuts which he takes silently. You don’t think you can look at him right now. Even if everyone is watching you, expecting an explanation, you’re not in the mood to give them one.
“You gonna introduce me Princess?”, Tyler leans down to your ear, loud enough for everyone else to hear anyway. You want to twist your head away, ignore him for the rest of your life, but you stand your ground. His breath makes you shudder, and not in a good way.
“Knoxville!”, Coyote barks out before you can respond.
“Coyote! How’s it going man?”, Tyler claps him on the back and Coyote gives it right back. If not a touch harder. Hangman greets him as well, with a flat smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You’d almost be interested to ask how they know each other if you weren’t itching to get the hell out of here.
Across the pool table, Nat meets your eyes. An invisible conversation taking place as you try your best to ignore what’s happening right in front of you.
She stares more intently, subtly shifting her head to the side. Are you ok?
You steel your features and quietly raise your brow. What do you think?
“So how do you know Mantis here?”, Hangman finally asks him. You look up, paining a smile to appear. Covering any emotion that tries to surface. Before you can say anything, he’s already talking over you. Typical.
“Mantis, huh?”, he turns to you. He couldn’t be any more condescending if he were sitting on a throne with you at his feet. “She used to go by Princess when we were dating.”
And it’s out.
You can feel Bob’s eyes flick to the side of your face. You don’t look at him. You can’t. You will break and crumble if you do.
“Yeah well, it’s Mantis now”, you don’t care if you sound snippy anymore. You never even liked the nickname. You didn’t “go by Princess”. That was his nickname for you. One you loathed with your entire being. It stemmed from an incessant reminder that you were “Navy royalty” as he so said. You felt more like Cinderella before she had a fairy godmother to make everything better.
“Aw come on, it’s all for old times sake, Princess”, you’re sure he thinks he’s being funny. He doesn’t know you well enough to know how to get under your skin. He doesn’t want to. Because you still might prove useful to him.
“How long are you in town?”, Rooster interrupts. He’s moved over to Phoenix’s side, and she’s stone-faced at the man. Like usual, Tyler hasn’t even noticed she’s there. She was never someone he could use and manipulate so he wrote her off.
“At least for a couple weeks.” Of course. Whenever he reappears he has to try to unravel all you’ve wound up since he left. Maybe you could get Penny to ban him from the bar. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name….” Rooster remains glued to his spot, arms crossed across his chest.
“Rooster”, he grumbles. He’s mad, but as far as you know he has no reason to be. Tyler catches sight of Phoenix and her face twitches. Surely a defense to not roll her eyes.
“Nat! How long’s it been?”
“Not long enough apparently”, she speaks through painfully obvious gritted teeth. The fake smile does nothing to cover it.
“Wait, how do you two know each other?”, Coyote asks.
“Oh we all went to the Academy together, but it’s been a while. Not Princess though”, he turns back to you, a smug grin wiping over his teeth. Shut up, you will him.
“We ran into each other, what was it? Five years ago?”. Damn it. All you can do is pray that nobody remembers Nat’s party. The stupid question you answered. The game Hangman started just to make you squirm.
The shifting eyes and slowly growing smile on Hangman’s face prove your prayers go unanswered. It must click in everyone else’s minds. You can’t breathe.
The air is suffocating. They already know too much about you. This extremely intimate and personal part of your life is not something you were planning on disclosing to anyone.
“Five years you said?”, Hangman asks, looking at you and not at the man the question is directed to.
“Yeah, one of those hoity toity balls. Perfect place for royalty”, he laughs at you. You scrunch your face up at him, hiding how tight you’re clenching your teeth.
“So what have you been up to?”, Phoenix asks, redirecting his attention. Thank god for Natasha Trace. He forgets about you, never letting an opportunity to talk about himself get away. He drones on about getting transferred, getting promoted, yada yada yada. Whatever he thinks makes himself look good, even if he takes some liberties.
“Hey”, Bob steps in with a whisper, “Do you wanna leave?” You look at his feet, brown cowboy boots stare back. Straightening yourself, you give him a silent nod. Without another word, you catch Phoenix’s eye and she does her best to distract Tyler as you go.
She’ll have to do damage control by herself. Rooster watches as you leave, not saying anything but you’re sure he must be so disappointed that this was the kind of man you associated yourself with. There’s a small part of you that’s embarrassed he knows. And a part of you that’s disappointed in yourself, too.
He’s not at liberty to that part of your life. But now it’s out in the open, and for someone as stupid as him, he’s not a complete idiot. He’s already connected the dots.
-----------------------
You haven’t said a word. Bob’s not sure if you’re going to. Your jaw’s been clenched since you showed up with him, and the only shift was when you were grinding your teeth as he spoke.
He’s about to turn the corner to your street when you speak up.
“Can we keep driving”, your voice cracks from disuse. Or just from how tight you’ve been holding yourself.
“Of course”, he agrees and reroutes. Where to, he’s not quite sure yet. You’re still quiet as he makes his way out of the suburbs, passing house after house until he finds a relatively empty beach. Only a few people remain, staggering back to their cars to head home. The sun is dipping below the horizon as he parks.
You stare forward, admiring the view. Huffing out a breath, he watches as you squeeze your fingers with one hand, rather harshly, almost until the blood stops flowing.
He checks the cup holder in his door, reaching down and fumbling with the loose change until he finds what he’s looking for.
With his free hand, he separates your own, giving them a gentle squeeze. And once they’re loose he drops the copper coin in your palm. But he doesn’t let go, not yet.
You exhale, the closest thing to a laugh he’ll get out of you. And then you look at him, biting the inside of your lip. Hesitating.
“Just an invitation”, he shrugs, “Feel free to decline.” That gets you to smile the tiniest bit. Progress.
You don’t let go of his hand, instead placing the penny in your pocket and opting to trace over his fingers. Your eyes drop from his, watching your own movements.
“Tyler- or Knoxville I guess, was my first boyfriend.” That much was obvious to Bob. But he doesn’t interrupt as you gather the courage for whatever else is coming his way.
“We met back at the Academy, I really didn’t know how to act in a relationship, and it was obvious later that he only started to become interested once he knew my dad was higher up, and that my god father was even higher than him.” You sigh, again. Getting worked up over every memory going through your mind.
“He used me- for a lot of things, but I still stayed with him longer than I should have. He graduated the year before Phoenix, and then he broke up with me right before he left. Asking if we could still be friends, and whatever bullshit he used as an excuse. And that’s not even the worst part.” A humorless laugh escapes your lips. You scrunch your eyes before letting go of Bob’s hands, instead running them down your face. Hiding yourself from him.
“It was five years ago, when I ran into him at a gala”, you suck in a deep breath before continuing. Bob already knows where this is going, and he’s not sure he wants to hear it. But he listens intently to your words despite the gnawing ache in his chest.
“Ugh”, you huff, “I was lonely, and more than a little drunk. I regretted it when I came to my senses the next morning. It’s just-”, you stop and clench your teeth, hands balling into fists on your lap. You sound more frustrated with yourself than hurt.
Bob reaches to relax your fist with his hand, giving you something else to put your focus into. Releasing a breath, you hide from him beneath your lashes.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. He sounds like a real-”
“Douchebag?”, you venture to guess.
“Yeah.” He stops- thinking back on what you just told him. Furrowing his brow, he asks, “Was he also drunk when you uh…”, he chooses his words wisely, “Saw him last?”
“I don’t- I don’t remember”, you shake your head, “I try not to think about it. Wasn’t a very fun night for me.” You try to laugh it off. He doesn’t like where his mind is going, but he has to know.
“It already sounds like he took advantage of you, but did he-”
“No!”, you’re quick to cut him off, “No, nothing like that. I promise. It was just never… good for me?” You phrase it as if it’s a question. Like you don’t believe yourself.
“I don’t know, he always made it about his needs and I never- he never cared about mine. It never even felt like a relationship. He only cared or seemed interested when my clothes were off. I don’t even think he knew my birthday or what my favorite color was.” You wince, trying to pull your hand away from his to cover yourself up again. “This is so embarrassing.” His heart breaks for you. Right after you left your mom's, the world found some way to put you with a man who didn’t even care to get to know you. What a fucking loser.
“What’s so embarrassing about that?”, he wonders. Pulling your hand back to your lap, his other reaches to trace your jaw. “He’s the one who should be embarrassed, never taking you into consideration. That’s not what a real man does.”
-----------------------
Your brain falters. Almost resets from its original coding as Bob swipes his thumb across your jaw. Even as he mindlessly comforts you, his eyes never look away from yours. They never drift past the part of you he’s trying to reach.
Because that’s the thing. Even when discussing the intimate topic, evading the real words, he’s not trying to reach any other part of you except for you as a whole. Not just a body part he can use for his own gratification.
And in just being his wonderfully genuine self, you find yourself emotional but also incredibly turned on.
It might just be the bare minimum, but it feels like more. It feels like Bob.
“You ok?”, he asks a little quieter this time. You manage to blink yourself out of your daze, recentering yourself to his calloused hand’s gentle touch.
“Yeah”, you manage to breathe over a whisper, “What about you?” You dare to ask.
“What about me?”, he returns, not understanding your question.
“Do you-”, you swallow, “Take other people's needs into consideration?” He blinks, quickly. A twitch of a smile ghosts across his face, before he nods. He understands what you’re asking.
“Your needs are mine”, his voice, now husky, whispers back. You could tremble at the sound. Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage.
“In that case, I’m gonna need you to kiss me, Bob.” That lopsided smile makes an appearance before he slowly leans in, brushing his lips against yours. It’s gentle, soft. Not enough. He backs away, not daring to push you any further.
You let go of his hand, reaching for the back of his head to guide him back to you. Your foreheads touch, and his eyes flick between yours and down to your lips. A silent question you answer by attaching your lips back to his. He returns it with fervor.
Turning your head, you deepen the kiss, running your hand through his shorter hair. He gives you exactly what you give him, not trying to go any further than you’re willing.
You dare to swipe your tongue over his lips and he welcomes it with a quiet hmmph.
His hand slides to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair. He doesn’t pull, doesn’t ask for more, just massages where his fingers go. Or at least that’s what it feels like as your brows wrinkle in pure pleasure.
His touch has you aching for more, and as you try to scoot down the bench, your seatbelt stops you. Breaking away for a split second, you move to undo the barrier. Bob does the same, albeit much quicker than you’re able to with your shaky fingers.
The feeling of Bob’s lips moving down your tilted jaw certainly don’t help.
Your hand falters, and he stops.
“Is this ok?”, he asks under his breath.
“Yeah, more than”, you exhale. His mouth returns, trailing his lips from your jaw to the top of your neck. And you’re still too far away. His nose nudges against your jawline, moving to where he can get better access to what he wants. His glasses scrape against your cheek as he opens his mouth.
The seat belt clicks and you’re on the move. Hands fumbling to grip the back of his neck as he continues to kiss your skin. Your eyes flutter and close, your hand finds his knee, gripping on for dear life.
His lips find their way back to yours, knees knocking into each other as you desperately try to get closer to him. You can feel yourself getting hotter by the second, butterflies making their descent.
You break to catch your breath, his fanning over your face and pushing loose strands of hair outwards. Braving to open your eyes, all you see are the fogging lenses of his glasses.
You don’t have time to admire the sight before his lips drag down your previously untouched skin, the other side of your neck he didn’t explore before. You hum in enjoyment, spurring on his tongue to trace over every inch of skin he’s kissed.
“Bobby”, you mumble, “So- so good.” Your hand drifts higher, dragging over the rough denim of his thigh. You’re trying and failing not to imagine what’s underneath, whining at the thought.
His large hand moves to splay over your hip. But what nearly does you in is his fingers landing right where your shirt rides up from your jeans. The touch sends a shiver through you, goosebumps forming on your skin, hair sticking up on your arms.
He’s kissing you again, wet skin on your neck cooling against the air as it dries. Your knees bump his again, and you swear to god the next time will be the last.
You don’t even think really, just go on instinct as they knock into each other for another goddamn time. Lifting your leg, you swing it over his lap, where you now find yourself sitting. It’s more of an awkward hunch so your head doesn’t hit the roof.
His hands aren’t on you anymore, they must have fallen off during the move. His head hits the headrest, eyes wide under those damn glasses. Oh shit, he doesn’t want this.
You both just sit there, chests falling and rising. You’re just as surprised as he is by your own position.
“I can move”, you quickly try to undo what you’ve already done. His hands shoot out to your hips, anchoring you to him.
“Please don’t”, he huffs and swallows. Hands twitching where they rest. Your hand reaches forward, moving through his hair as you settle into your position. For a split second, just as your fingers move, your brain so lovingly reminds you of where you’ve seen this familiar scene before.
Your dream- before it turned into a nightmare.
A flash of panic tries to run its course through your nervous system but then- a trace of his finger down your cheek, delicately pushing your hair behind your ear. He’s here. This is real.
“Where’d you go?”, he whispers. You don’t say anything. Instead, you push forward, needing to feel him again. To know this is a dream you aren’t waking up from.
His lips are just as warm and soft as they were two seconds ago, but there’s something different. Something deeper. A need in you that he’s more than happy to indulge.
And then. your hips graze right over his as you try to get closer. A deep sound comes from his throat, making your mouth vibrate. Interesting.
You test it again, and this time it’s a little louder, his grip on your hip just a tiny bit tighter. Not hurting in any way, just a sense of pressure that lets you know he feels you. You test again, feeling him harden under his jeans.
“Shit”, he hisses as you take your turn to kiss his sharp jawline. Just the slightest whisper of scruff tickling your lips. “Sweetheart yer killin’ me here-” His accent creeps out, and you smile against his skin.
Your hand slides down the back of his shirt, just barely enough to feel what you have yet to see. His hips buck against yours in a twitch as you barely tug on his earlobe with your teeth. His back is warm beneath your touch and you’re aching to feel more of him.
You can feel yourself start to sweat, windows just starting to fog up the longer you stay hooked to each other.
A harsh bright light sears through your eyelids and you immediately unattach yourself from Bob’s neck, not unlike a leech. His hands remain in your hair and on your waist, but he goes rigid as you stop.
“Car”, you tap his shoulder.
“Shit”, he says as he pulls you under him, flat against the bench seat. You try not to yelp at the motion, but your legs are now wrapped around his hips which pin you to the fading leather. He rests his weight on his elbows, minding not to press anymore against you.
The headlights are bright enough to blind anyone who comes within 50 feet, but all you can see is the direction they turn in. And they’re getting closer.
“What if it’s someone we know?”, you whisper into the echo of your breathing. He looks down at you, and you see it. Fear.
Shifting his weight onto his hands, Bob lifts his head just enough to see through the passenger window. He sighs. Throat bobbing when he swallows. Where your mouth was just exploring.
Jesus, how stupid are you? Why did you think it was ok to have a makeout session in a car like a teenager?
Well, you never actually did that as a teenager. But this makes you feel like one who’s out way past curfew with a boy her parents disapprove of.
“I don’t think we know them”, he whispers, ducking his head out of view.
You’re able to take a breath at that. Bob relaxes, head dropping to your shoulder to catch his own.
“What are they doing?”
“I don’t know, probably scoping out a makeout spot”, you hit him lightly on the shoulder and he shakes above you. You both stop and listen, just waiting to see if they get any closer.
“I’m sorry”, you have the urge to tell him after a minute.
“What’re you sorry for?”, he lifts his head.
“I got a little carried away.”
“We were having fun weren’t we?”, he asks through a laugh and you nod at him. “Just kinda forgot where we were.” Your smile falls.
“We have to be more careful.”
“I know”, he searches your eyes, “To be fair I had no ulterior motives when I parked here.” You know he didn’t. Technically you were the one to make the first move, which is something you never did with douchebag. He initiated everything, but with Bob it’s just different. You want him in a way you’ve never wanted someone before. And sometimes it makes it hard to hold back. Because you don’t just want his body. You want to talk to him, spend time with him. You want him as a whole.
You didn’t even catch yourself staring.
“Ok, I think they’re leaving.” He looks back at you and stops. “What?”, he asks with a twinge of a smile. And if you didn’t already feel like a teenager right now, the grin on his face makes you smitten like one. That and the fact that you can still feel how hard he is through his jeans.
“Nothing”, you smile as your hand cards through his hair, “Thanks for taking me out here.”
“I’d say anytime, but I think next time we should find some place a little more private.”
“No, but seriously”, you stop him, “Thank you.” He searches your eyes and comes back with something you can’t place. Maybe he understands that it’s more than just taking you out here. That you’re thanking him for more than you can ever repay. But you start with pushing his glasses back up his nose because he’s too busy looking at you to notice they’ve been slowly sliding down.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Just lowers himself and presses his lips against yours one last time.
His head pops up, much like a groundhog’s would, before he slides off your body, leaving you cold in his wake. You watch as he shifts gears and- Jesus. When did his hands get so veiny? You remain in your laid-back position as he starts the truck up and peels out of the parking lot. His hand falls to your calf and you unabashedly check out the veins that trace up his forearms. God damn it Bob, it makes it hard to cool down when you know those hands were all over you just a few minutes ago.
Only when you round the corner do you sit back up, feeling a little safer to show your face. That was cutting it close. But at the same time you can’t find yourself caring. Things felt normal for a second. You were back in your Bob bubble. And even when something manages to pop it, he keeps you close enough so the fall doesn’t hurt.
His truck slows down in front of your house, and you turn to say goodbye. His face is still flushed, despite the fact that he rolled the windows down on the way over.
“What is it then?”, he asks out of nowhere.
“What’s what?”, you ask confused.
“Your favorite color?”, it’s a broad question, one that’s never left you feeling quite this elated to answer before. Because this time your answer is staring right back at you.
“Blue”, you respond.
-----------------------
Monday back at work is more or less the same as the past week. Everyone of you is putting in your flight hours as you run over maneuvers before getting in the air.
No matter what kind of breeze is blowing in with the San Diego tides, it does nothing to cool you as you make your way back to the tarmac.
You were nervous walking in this morning. Phoenix must have threatened them with some less than kind words, or else you’re sure Hangman would have said something already. He might have given you a brief glance, but nothing else. He didn’t linger.
You asked her what happened after you left and she just shrugged.
“I feel kinda bad, but I pointed the Lieutenant in the direction of someone who was looking for a uniform to have some fun with. I had to drive Fanboy home after, and he almost threw up in my car, but we didn’t see Lieutenant Douchebag again.” So thanks to Nat, no one bothers you about it.
But then there’s Rooster. You’re not sure what happened with him after you left with Bob Friday night, but he’s having a hard time looking away. It’s not pointed at you per say. It feels almost like he keeps zoning out, but right at you. And when you feel his eyes on your face, he looks away when you turn.
You shake it off when you feel him staring as you settle yourself in your jet, in the classroom as you flip through the pages of your manual, and at your lunch table when Bob’s knee knocks into yours.
He doesn’t even look away from Fanboy when he does it. Just checking in. You knock him right back.
You did end up falling asleep on Bob while National Treasure played in the background Saturday afternoon. After what happened the previous night you didn’t get much sleep. Between Tyler, your little makeout sesh in Bob’s truck, and then the gnawing at the back of your head reminding you about your nightmare, you had plenty of material to keep you awake.
It was a lazy Saturday. What you both needed. Sleeping, actually sleeping, with Bob wasn’t something new to you, but a Saturday nap with you on his chest was something to behold. His slender figure might be unassuming, but it was possibly the best sleep you’ve had in the middle of the day. Actually, it might have been the best sleep you’ve ever had. Period.
And he had you home before too late. Or before someone asked why you were with Bob all day long. You did tell your dad you were out shopping with a couple friends. When he asked what you got, you pulled out a couple pieces you’re sure you’ve worn before but he believed he was seeing for the first time.
You tried not to let your cheeks heat up when he asked what else you got up to. Memories of Bob kissing you lazily, glasses forgotten on the coffee table, and his hands tracing up and down your back come to mind.
“Not much else”, you had told him. He believed it, and moved on. Because why would he have any reason not to?
It’s not that you don’t feel guilty, because you do. You’re just not sure he would understand. You’re not lying to him because you’re ashamed or embarrassed, it’s because you want to keep this one good thing you have. It’s not like when you were young and hiding something because it hurt, you’re hiding it because it’s good. It doesn’t weigh you down, it lifts you up and it’s not anybody’s business but yours and Bob’s.
So by Wednesday when in any other instance you’d have huffed and puffed about all the pushups you’ve had to do, you get down to business. Hands sweaty on the tarmac as Hondo counts you and Rooster off. Fritz had gotten the better of him, Payback and Fanboy you.
Staring ahead, you watch as Phoenix and Bob get ready to head out. She stops before you, crouching as you go up and down. Giving you a great view of her groin.
“Be careful when you go back in there”, she warns you, “Mav and Cyclone are both watching and listening.”
“Thank you Nat’s crotch”, you sputter between breaths. Her and Bob walk off, laughter trailing after them, but you’re still wondering why Cyclone is bothering to watch. Surely he’s got better things to do than supervising your squadron.
It’s getting harder and harder not to kiss Bob hello or goodbye when he picks you up and drops you off. Your car is still being taken care of because of the extent of the damage, and even if it’s tough to not have your own car, you’re not heartbroken that he’s still driving you around. You almost invited him in that afternoon since your dad was staying late. But you thought better of it.
-----------------------
You walk up on Bob and Phoenix finishing with their pushups when you head up with Coyote. Glancing a last look at the tarmac, you watch as Cyclone approaches Hondo. Arms folded across his chest, sunglasses perched on his nose.
He’s been in and out of the classroom since yesterday. Exchanging quiet words with Mav, and occasionally Warlock. Mouth flat, eyes flicking over his shoulder every once in a while. Your dad hasn’t said anything. Not that you’d had any chance to ask him. He’s been staying later and later lately. Eyes tired when he walks in the door, a smile trying to cover it up. It never works.
Coyote’s jet roars to life, soaring in front of you and pulling you out of whatever conspiracy you might have been threading.
-----------------------
Descending your ladder, you watch as Coyote drops to the tarmac next to his jet to start his pushups. Serves him right for thinking he’d get the jump on you.
You’re wiping the sweat from your forehead as you notice Hondo walk over to Coyote, motioning for him to stand up.
“Hey, what’s going on?”. Coyote's furrowed brow mirrors your own as you rest your helmet on your hip.
“Mav wants everyone to report back to the classroom”, Hondo explains with a brooding expression.
“What?”, you laugh, “I beat him fair and square!”
“Don’t worry Mantis, next time when I win we’ll even it out so neither of us will have to do any”, Coyote jokes.
“Like I’d let you get the chance”, you mutter. He playfully scowls at you while Hondo remains with his hands behind his back.
“I don’t think there’ll be anymore pushups anytime soon”, Hondo interrupts as he ushers the two of you back to the building. You share a confused look with Coyote as you head inside.
Everyone’s back in their seats as you give Bob a questioning glance. He shrugs his shoulders, saying I know as much as you do. Right as you and Coyote sit down, everyone shifts to sit straighter in their seats as Cyclone stands at the podium, leaving Mav behind him.
“As you all know”, he starts, “for the past two weeks you’ve been tasked with practicing basic maneuvers, evasion, and endurance.” You shift in your seat, the sweat on the back of your neck dripping below your collar.
“What you don’t know is that this has been preliminary training for something much bigger. Starting tomorrow, you will be training for six weeks to take part in a mission you will learn more about in the following days.” Your lungs tighten, hands turning clammy at the new information.
“We can’t be putting energy into anything other than the tasks at hand. Which is why we will be putting an end to any bets involving physical activity of any kind”, his eyes flit over his shoulder at Mav. Your dad’s jaw clenches as he stares out the window. He can’t stand to look any of you in the eye.
And then it hits you.
The mission he told you about a few weeks ago. The mission Cyclone was keeping you in mind for.
“This isn’t going to be easy, which is why this squadron was selected. You have the best chance of successfully completing this mission and coming home. So keep your head down”, his eyes flick to you, “Put in the work, focus on the mission, and you won’t have anything to worry about.” You meet his gaze and then follow back to Mav who’s already looking at you. There’s no playfulness in the way he stares. All you can see is remorse. A man who’s sorry for what you’re about to go through.
-----------------------
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𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏
Castiel Novak x Reader Pt 2
Wc. 1.3k
-
You were asleep on the motel bed, an open laptop lying right next to you with a few websites open. Dean was right across the room, past out on the couch, sitting up, a closed book in his lap. It was late, and all the research you two had been doing tired you out.
The TV flickered on, playing a loud white noise, waking you right up. You slowly sat up in the bed, eyes glancing around the room until they landed on the lit screen. “Dean.” You called quietly, legs sliding off the bed as you stood.
The Radio behind you began to whine, head snapping in the direction. “Dean!” You said louder, finally waking him up. His eyes snapped open, his body coming forward as he looked around, taking in everything that was happening. One thing was missing, though, Sam. He was gone.
You glance over to Dean, watching as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes with a soft groan. You quickly grab the gun you kept beside your bed, walking over to him and shoving it into his hands. You were going to try to turn the TV and radio off, but before you could, a loud, piercing sound, almost like a ringing, shot through the room.
You looked back at Dean, grimacing as it got louder. “Dean-” You called, stumbling closer to him as it got louder. What was this? You’ve never experienced anything like this before.
Dean reached out and grabbed your shoulder, looking down at you, before glancing around the room. The ringing suddenly got louder, and your hands shot up to your ears just as Dean did his.
The mirrors on the roof, Tv screen, and everything else glass began to shatter, the ringing sound grew so loud your whole head hurt, and blood began to drip down your ears. Your body crumpled to the floor, Dean falling right next to you.
The shards from the mirrors rained down on both your bodies, the room beginning to shake. The door to your room bursts open as Bobby runs in. “Y/n, Dean!” He yells, coming down and grabbing you both, dragging you out the door.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You sat in the back seat of Bobby's car, holding a cloth around your arm to stop the bleeding. Turns out, while you were on the floor, a piece of glass sliced up your arm. You stared out the window, watching the trees pass quickly. Whatever happened back at the motel room scared you in a way. You couldn’t think of one monster or spirit that could do that. Which is why the three of you were on the way to some warehouse to summon the dam thing. It's about time you all figure out exactly what raised Dean from hell.
Dean's phone rang in his pocket, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked forward and watched as he answered it. “What are you doing?” He asks, looking out the window beside him. He hummed, looking back at you, then to the older man driving. “Bobby’s back. We all went to grab a beer.”
Upon seeing Bobby’s shocked look, he held up a finger as he finished up the call with Sam. “Why didn’t you tell him?” He asked as Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Because he would’ve tried to stop us.”
You both may have forgot to tell Bobby why Dean had him driving to a Warehouse far from any town.
Dean turned to look at Bobby again. “From summoning the damn thing.” You watched as Bobby shook his head, a shocked scoff escaping his lips. “You can't be serious!”
It was finally your turn to speak up. “Serious as a heart attack. It's high noon, Baby!” He turned to look at you. “You knew about this, too?”
“Yeah, it was my idea. Now, eyes back on the road.” You leaned forward, patting his shoulder, watching him roll his eyes.
You wanted to know what this thing was and what its intentions were. So, of course, you suggested the idea, and Dean agreed to it. He wanted to know just as much as you did.
“Well, we don't know what it is. It could be a demon, it could be anything.” You could tell Bobby didn't like this idea too much, he was skeptical about it. You knew you should be too; you've seen how powerful this thing can be, but you were more excited to finally see what it was.
“That's why we've got to be ready for anything.” Dean spoke, holding a hand out to you. Your lips pulled in a smirk, pulling the demon-killing knife from your pocket, and reaching forward, handing it to Dean. You meant to give it to him earlier, but amid everything happening, you forgot, but at least you could prove a point by doing it now.
“We've got the big-time magic knife, you've got an arsenal in the trunk.” You spoke up again, leaning back into the seat. “This is a bad idea.” You knew Bobby wouldn’t like the idea, but He’d do anything to help you three.
“Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me. That much we know, right? I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand.”
“We could use Sam on this.”
You let out a sigh. “Sam would only try to stop us, Bobby. He’s better off where he’s at.”
It didn’t take much longer to arrive at the warehouse. Bobby’s car pulled in front of it, the purr of the engine stopping as he pulled the keys out of the ignition.
All three of you grabbed weapons from the trunk, shoving the duffel bag full of things you might need. You had also brought a bag full of spray paint and things needed for the summoning ritual.
You were the first into the warehouse, Bobby and Dean following behind. Your hand found the light switch, flicking it on, the large building was only one room, completely empty besides two tables in the middle of the room. It was perfect.
“Alright, boys.” You set the bag onto a table, quickly unzipping it and reaching in. You grabbed three cans of spray paint, tossing them out to them. “Let's get started on these walls.”
It took around an hour for you all to finish covering the walls in protective sigils. Bobby had just finished the ritual around 5 minutes ago, and you all just sat there. “Are you sure you did it right?” Dean finally spoke up, earning a glare from the older man. “Sorry, touchy touchy, Huh?”
As if on cue, the roof began to rattle, the ground shaking lightly beneath you. Bobby and Dean grab their shotguns while you whip out your pistol, eyes glued on the door.
You were finally going to see this thing. “Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind.” Bad time to crack a joke, but it's all that you could say at the moment.
The doors fly open, a bright white light shining through as a man slowly walks into the room. He stepped into the room with a quiet intensity, tall and lean, his dark trench coat brushing against his legs. Tousled brown hair framed a face marked by sharp features and piercing blue eyes- eyes that seemed to see far more than they should. His clothes were formal but rumpled, like he’d borrowed them from another decade: a white shirt, loose tie, and worn slacks.
You lowered your gun slightly as he grew closer, completely lost in staring at him. He was very attractive, and you could just feel how powerful he was.
As he steps closer, the light above his head shatter one by one, You shield yourself from the falling shards of lightbulbs. Both Dean and Bobby begin to shoot at him, but he continues forward, completely unfazed. Dean throws his gun to the side, pulling the demon knife from his pocket, and holding it out defensively.
“Who are you?”
“I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”
-
Next part
#x reader#fluff#angst#fanfic#castiel x reader#castiel novak#dean winchester#sam winchester#bobby singer#lucifer morningstar#micheal#supernatural#spn#jimmy
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All That I’m Asking For


Grayson Hawthorne x Lyra Kane
Warnings: Heavy emotional vulnerability, depiction of exhaustion, tender intimacy with soft undressing, themes of longing that may tug at the heart.
Synopsis: After a long, exhausting day that leaves him feeling unmoored, Grayson finds solace in Lyra’s arms. Overwhelmed by emotions he can no longer contain, he lets his guard down, seeking comfort, connection, and the quiet promise of something more.
Song: “Sweet Devotion” — Adele
Word Count: 1,437
Grayson’s polished shoes clicked softly on the marble floor of the Hawthorne Foundation’s downtown building, the sound drowned beneath the quiet hum of the midday lobby. His phone was warm against his ear, his voice low and measured, navigating the conversation with that usual calm precision.
“Yes, I’ve seen the proposal, and no, I’m not signing off on it until the revisions come through. We’ve been over this. Twice.” His tone stayed polite, but there was an edge to it — the kind that only surfaced when people wasted his time.
The person on the other end kept talking, a string of justifications and excuses. Grayson barely registered it.
Because something — someone — caught his eye.
He was halfway across the lobby when he saw them: a young woman in casual clothes perched at the edge of a wide leather bench, a diaper bag at her feet, a bottle tucked beside her. And cradled in her arms, content as could be, was a baby. Small, probably no older than four or five months. Soft peach-fuzz hair. Round cheeks still flushed pink from sleep or maybe from the warmth of the building.
Grayson’s steps slowed without him realizing. His mind, so quick with numbers and contracts and plans, ground to a halt.
The baby shifted, restless, and in that small movement, his gaze lifted.
And found Grayson.
It wasn’t a long look. Just a glance — but a direct one. Clear, wide, and startlingly aware. Those innocent eyes, so big and bright, locked on to Grayson’s with a kind of pure curiosity. No pretense. No agenda. Just simple, honest wonder.
Grayson forgot to breathe.
Forgot about the phone pressed to his ear.
Forgot about the voice still yammering on the other end of the line.
He stopped walking, standing still in the middle of the lobby like he’d been rooted to the floor. His heart gave a strange little stutter, and he didn’t understand why. The baby wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t waving. Just… watching him. Like Grayson mattered. Like, for one perfect second, he was the most interesting thing in this cavernous, cold marble space.
He didn’t know how long he stood there. Five seconds? Ten? Long enough that the person on the other end of the call noticed his silence.
“Mr. Hawthorne?” The voice crackled through his phone, impatient. “Grayson? Are you still there?”
Grayson blinked, the spell breaking. His grip tightened on the phone, and he forced himself to look away. Forced his feet to move. Forced his heart to stop aching for something he didn’t even have yet.
“Yeah,” he said, voice rougher than before. “Yeah, I’m here.”
But even as he walked on, even as he made himself focus on the deal, on the numbers, on the problem at hand — all he could see was that baby’s eyes.
And all he could feel was the sudden, overwhelming want.
He didn’t even remember the drive home, his head was filled with numbers and deadlines.
The door clicked softly behind him as Grayson stepped inside. The quiet of their home wrapped around him, a balm against the noise of the world. His shoulders sagged as the tension he’d been holding onto all day began to slip, leaving him heavy, exhausted down to his bones.
He dropped his keys on the entry table, loosened his tie with fingers that trembled from the sheer strain of keeping it together. His suit jacket fell to the floor, forgotten. He didn’t even bother with the lights. The house was bathed in the faintest glow from streetlamps beyond the windowpanes — soft, silvered shadows guiding him.
All he wanted was her.
Grayson moved through the quiet rooms like a man starved for oxygen, drawn to the one place that still felt steady beneath his feet. When he reached their bedroom door, slightly ajar, he paused. Just for a second. Just to breathe her in.
Lyra was there, propped against the pillows in one of his shirts, a book resting open in her hands, her hair spilling loose over her shoulders. The lamp beside the bed cast her in warm light, softening everything — the curve of her neck, the slope of her collarbone, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she read.
She looked up as he entered. “Grayson?” she murmured, smile small but sure, like she’d been waiting for him all along.
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His throat was too tight. His heart too full. He crossed the room in three long strides, and then he was there — on the bed, on her, curling himself into the shape of her like he couldn’t get close enough.
His head buried against her chest, his breath uneven, warm through the fabric of her shirt. She smelled like home, like lavender soap and something sweeter, something that was just her. His arms slipped beneath her, around her, pulling her in until she had no choice but to drop the book and let him hold on.
“Grayson…” her voice was soft, laced with concern, but her hands were already in his hair, stroking, soothing.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t know how. He only knew the feel of her heartbeat beneath his cheek, steady and strong, grounding him.
After a long, quiet moment, he shifted — slow, deliberate. His hands slid up beneath the hem of her shirt, palms warm against her skin, fingertips reverent. He pressed kisses to her chest first, then lower, unhurried. Like each kiss was a silent apology for the distance he’d felt all day, for the ache he couldn’t name.
Her stomach. He reached it, bared it with gentle fingers pushing the fabric higher. His mouth found the soft skin there, and he kissed it once. Then again. And again. Each press of his lips was tender, almost desperate — as if this would be enough to ease whatever storm was inside him.
He didn’t think. He didn’t plan. He just needed to touch, to feel, to remind himself that this was real. That she was real. That whatever he’d been yearning for — whatever hollow thing had been gnawing at him since that moment in the lobby — this was the only place he could start to fill it.
Lyra’s breath hitched, but she didn’t stop him. Her hands cupped his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheekbones, and she tilted his face up so their eyes met.
He looked at her like she was everything. Like she’d always been everything.
“Hey,” she whispered, love thick in her voice. “Come back to me.”
And he did. By inches, by degrees — but he did. He laid his head against her stomach, eyes closing, breath shuddering out as her fingers threaded through his hair again.
And in that quiet, in that warmth, the want that had haunted him all day surged fresh and sharp in his chest.
But he still couldn’t say it.
Not yet.
He stayed like that for what felt like forever — his head resting against the soft warmth of her stomach, her fingers combing through his hair, gentle as the night. The storm inside him quieted just enough for him to feel the weight of his own body, the pull of exhaustion, the ache in his chest that no amount of work or reason or control could ease.
Her hands left his hair, and for a moment, he thought he’d lost the anchor. But then he felt her fingers at his collar, undoing the top button, then the next. Slowly. Patiently. Like she understood without him saying a word.
The knot of his tie loosened beneath her touch, and the tightness around his throat eased. He exhaled, shaky, like he’d been holding his breath all day.
He let her work, let her slip his tie free, tug it gently from under his collar, let her unfasten his cufflinks and push his sleeves up enough to bare his wrists. Her fingers moved with care, like unwrapping something fragile.
“I couldn’t think today,” he murmured, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. “Couldn’t focus. Not really.”
Lyra didn’t say anything, just brushed his hair back from his forehead, her thumb smoothing the line of tension there. She pushed his shirt from his shoulders, guiding his arms free of the fabric like she was peeling away the armor he always wore.
His undershirt clung to him, and she tugged that up too, slow and steady. His skin prickled where the cool air touched it, but it was her hands — warm, sure — that made him shiver.
“I was walking through the lobby,” Grayson said, the words spilling now, unstoppable. “On a call. Half-listening. And then I saw this baby. Just sitting there with his mom. Just… looking around at the world like it was all new and good and—”
He broke off, swallowing hard as she eased him back against the pillows, as she worked at his belt, the button of his slacks. His body felt too big for his skin, like he was made of nothing but longing.
“And he looked at me, Lyra.” His throat tightened. “This tiny kid, not even doing anything — just… just being. And I swear I forgot how to speak. Forgot everything. I stopped in the middle of that lobby like a goddamn fool because he looked at me and I—”
Her hands paused, resting over his heart. “Grayson,” she said, soft, steady, pulling his gaze to hers.
He met her eyes, and that was what undid him. The understanding there. The way she saw straight through him.
“I want that,” he confessed, voice breaking open, raw and honest in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. “I want that so much it hurts. I couldn’t think straight the rest of the day. I kept seeing him. And all I could think was — I want that with you. Us. I want to come home to that. I want to build it. I want to be that man. For you. For them. I want—”
His breath hitched, and she shushed him softly, sliding the rest of his clothes away, leaving him in nothing but the quiet and her touch. She folded him close, bare chest to bare chest, her arms strong around him, and he let himself fall into her, let himself be held.
“I want it, Lyra,” he whispered again, because it was the only thing that felt true. “I want everything. With you.”
And in the hush of the room, in the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his ear, he felt her hands stroke his back, grounding him, her breath warm at his temple.
“I know,” she murmured. “I know, Grayson.”
And he clung to her like she was the only thing tethering him to earth — because in that moment, she was.
Part Two
#the inheritance games#jennifer lynn barnes#grayson hawthorne#lyra kane#grayson x lyra#lyrason#brynnlee 𓇼#brynnlee.writes 𓆉#bookworm#fanfic#writers#fanfiction writer#writerblr#baby fever
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just hada bout of paranoia and anxiety so bad that it gave me a headache
#person sitting in their car shining bright ass headlight into the house ->#they drive off right after i close the blinds and lock the door ->#noise that sounded like someone pulling up closer to the house (out of view) ->#noise coming from the direction of the door ->#ME SCARED#its nothing btw it was prolly jus someone going to work but its 4am and im easily frightened#quacking
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Declined
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 9.2k words (whoopsies)
warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, stalker!Simon but he does it with the intention of loving you so therefore I also tag this as fluff, the usual swearing, smut, f!oral receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex, finishing inside
Continuation of this idea
He almost hadn’t seen you, that very first time
He was begrudgingly on his sixth day of mandatory leave, something he had been pushing Price on for too long now, the Captain finally putting his foot down and saying the Lieutenant could no longer avoid it. Following a couple of particularly brutal operations recently, the higher ups were becoming increasingly concerned as to his mental stability, stating Ghost’s actions and his own written reports reflected an impulsivity and darkness they were steadily losing confidence in.
Ghost found the claims ridiculous. They had shaped him into exactly what they needed him to be on the battlefield, hadn’t they? They’d taken the scrawny runt of the litter and shaped him into a lean, mean, killing machine who never blinked twice as the blood of those lives he’d taken became as permanent of a stain on his skin as the ink from a tattoo gun. What did they fuckin’ care how his bloody mental health was?
Price insisted that the younger man not sulk inside of his flat for the entire duration of what he tried to convince him could be treated as a well deserved rest, encouraging him to get out at least once a day, if only to stretch his legs and prevent him from going truly stir crazy.
“Ye do understand they won’t let you back until they think you’re at least tryin’ to put the work in?” The Captain had told him the last time he saw him, doing his best to remind his second in command of the situation they’d been put into. “Take up fuckin’ yoga if ye think it’ll help ye. Just find something to distract yer mind and have them clear ye to come back sooner than later.”
A distraction huh?
Now, he’s sat at a table in the corner of an already too small and too cramped cafe, nursing a less than mediocre cup of tea on his daily outing, only just looking to help pass the time faster until he could be back on base where he belonged. For no particular reason other than perhaps divine intervention, he had only happened to glance up that time the bell above the door rang rather than the other hundred times it had gone off this morning, and that was when Ghost saw you
You, who appeared as though you’d only stumbled into the shop because a strong gust of wind had pushed you in his direction, your skittish, frazzled appearance making you stand out amongst the crowd of bored looking caffeine addicts stood waiting in queue, hardly sparing you a glance as they awaited their next 5£ fix
You were pushing your hair out of your face as you caught your breath, accompanied by the sound of the bell ringing as the door finally shut behind you, a noise nearly akin to angels strumming their harps up above when Ghost caught his first proper glimpse of your visage
There was something about you that piqued his interest then and there, his eyes never leaving you as you continuously struggled with the stack of books, journals and loose papers nearly slipping from your grasp, your other arm occupied with the so full it could burst tote bag that kept sliding off your shoulder
He had to stop himself from actually scoffing at your appearance, you came across as so opposite to how he carries himself, silent and stealthy, cool and collected, priding himself on being able to slip in and out of rooms unnoticed, even with his huge frame. And here you were, stumbling in like a bull in a china shop and appearing before him like the epitome of a hot mess on legs
He watched you the entire time you stood in queue, he watched you place your order and pay, noting the way his cold, dead to the world heart tried to skip a beat when you smiled at the barista, he watched you glance about the cafe as you waited for your beverage, your gaze somehow never landing on the one that had been focused on you since you walked in
Now, there are countless explanations as to why Ghost did what he did next, many of them could be explained away as being innocent enough, no real ill-intent or harm done, the Lieutenant was simply bored and looking for something to occupy his time with, to entertain his mind, like the higher ups had ordered
Unfortunately for you, he believed he had just found his distraction
It was really almost too easy, any simple civilian could have done it, his SAS skills not even needing to come into play you were making this so simple for him, you might as well have been asking for it
First, he saw your eyes light up when the barista called your name out along with your drink order, giving Ghost the first half of the information he needed. Next, he was watching you walk by his table to collect your beverage, paying him no mind at all as he glanced towards the stack in your arms, your last name practically popping out at him from the top corners of nearly all your loose papers, granting the large men exactly what he’d been hoping to see
You were none the wiser as you happily skipped out of the cafe, bidding the girl behind the counter a happy Sunday along the way, unaware as to the pair of eyes following your every movement, and the traumatized mind behind them who had already begun his plotting
One week
Seven days go by since that first Sunday he saw you in the cafe
And in that time, Simon’s kept himself busy, learning as much as he can about his newest distraction, his new little hobby, his pet project
Equipped with your first and last name tucked into the folds of his brain, it had been all too simple, nearly comical how easy it was for Ghost to look you up online and learn all he wanted to know about you
Thanks to the world wide web, in a weeks time Ghost had been able to discover all those essential details he supposes other men would have had to learn through taking you on date after date, finding out which school you’re attending for your masters degree, gaining access to your class schedule, giving him a glimpse into your routine Mondays through Fridays, discovering which local book store you’re working at part time on the weekends
You’re evidently a clever bird, having your few social media accounts set to private mode, but you’re sweet to think something like that could keep someone like him from getting what he wants
Soon enough, he’s got access to every photo and video you’ve ever uploaded to the web through the years, happy to note that you’ve never posted anything that would hint towards there being a man in your life right now
And really, it isn’t entirely your fault that you’re so open and honest in some of your posts, believing that no one apart from your family and close friends will be reading it, as you had excitedly posted photos of your new apartment last year, writing in the caption how you were eager to start this new chapter of your life, living on your own, all by yourself, not even a dog to keep you company when the floor boards creak at night and branches tap against the windows, just and old blind cat you’d rescued
While your friends had commented on how cute and cozy your decor had been, his own eyes skipped over the overpriced pillows and throws and instead locked on to the windows and doors, noting the standard, or altogether missing, security systems in place
Ghost is thinking about what the easiest way to gain access to your flat’s floor plan would be, he could pretend he’s an interested tenant and reach out to the landlord, hmm but then he’d have to actually talk to someone, something he’s been able to avoid doing so far, avoid leaving any trace- when the sound of the bell ringing above the door lets him know you’ve walked in
Much like last time, his eyes following your figure is the only perceptible movement he allowed himself, guarded by the shadows of his hood over his head, no one would ever be able to notice the steadfast attention he pays to your every single movement
You spend a total of 9 minutes 38 seconds in the cafe this time around, from the time you enter until you’re walking back out with your warm drink in hand, each second being ingrained into Ghost’s mind
A small part of him had almost tried to fool himself in the beginning, attempting to convince himself that this would be enough, learning about a curious little bird from behind a screen and silently watching her bounce around a coffee shop once a week should have been enough to keep his warring mind occupied, to keep the Lieutenant distracted until the higher ups decided enough time had passed to offer him a chance back
That was until, he’d heard you laugh
You were nearly out of the cafe, so close to being an itch he could almost consider satisfyingly scratched and over with, when a woman and her overzealous toddler came bounding round the corner, practically knocking into you with your full arms
But rather than becoming upset at your nearly spilled drink or almost ruined academic papers, you reassured the woman, got down to the tots level to make sure they were alright, and then you laughed with them
Your fucking giggle was to him what children heard when the ice cream truck came driving by, your smile stretching further than it previously had before his eyes, your voice sounding as melodic as the bell above the door did, and that was when Ghost knew, he was fucked
All of the world’s information online couldn’t put into words what he was seeing in front of him with his own two tired eyes; you were sweet
Too sweet, tooth-achingly sweet, sweet enough to trust this cold, dark world and offer it a bright smile in return
He’s seen people killed for far, far less
But not you
He wouldn’t allow such a cruel fate to befall such a darling bird, he wanted to keep you sweet, keep you smiling and giggling without worries of predators watching from the shadows, mouths salivating and jaws itching to clamp down on something soft
Not when you’d flown to close to him twice now, near enough that he can practically feel the wind beneath your wings as you float out of the cafe again, unaware that you’ve stepped into the large, gilded cage that is Ghost’s attention
Another week passes
Ghost takes his curiosity away onto the streets for the first time and counts to sixty before he follows you out of the coffee shop that Sunday, careful to stick close to the buildings and shadows, mingling in with the crowds and keeping a reasonable distance from you as he follows in your steps
He lurks near the crowded bust stop across the street from the moment you walk into your shift at the bookshop, and remains there until the second you step back out hours later, locking up the store behind you and beginning your stroll home
He waits outside your flat, noting which window on the second floor lights up with the soft glow of a lamp not long after you venture into the building, letting him know exactly which one is yours, and which one he’ll be keeping a close eye on from now on
Another week passes
Ghost has most of your routine memorized by now
He knows what time you leave in the morning depending on your classes that day, knows you often don’t make it home until after dark on those days
He knows your shifts at the bookstore every weekend never change, with your Sunday morning visits to the cafe before work being one of the few luxuries you apparently allow yourself
Ghost hangs around your flat often enough that he allows some of the neighbours to begin recognizing him in passing, letting them assume he must live in the building as well
All the better for him really, when the nice older couple doesn’t blink twice as he carefully grumbles about being locked out one night and they grant him their key code to unlock the front doors
Another week passes
Ghost knows you’ve been complaining to your landlord about how the building’s laundry machines are giving you a hard time, though you don’t tell the balding man about how it seems your undergarments are the only thing disappearing from your loads-
He knows where you do your shopping, and how you avoid a certain cashier who never gets the hint when you don’t return his attempts at flirting
He knows your Sunday morning coffee order by heart, knows exactly around what time you’ll be popping into the cafe, always around 8:25am before your 9am shift stocking books six blocks away
Another week passes
Ghost knows you haven’t noticed yet that the nuisance of a cashier at your local grocer hasn’t shown up to work in days now, the Lieutenant having ensured that he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore
He knows you’re running low on panties, considering he has nearly an entire weeks worth of your unwashed garments tucked safely in his nightstand
He knows you’ve started to notice the door leading out to your second storey balcony isn’t always locked when you return home, even though you could have sworn it was secured before you left that morning
He knows you’ve begun to question whether you left that lamp on when you rushed out for school, or if you’d closed your bedroom curtains before bed at night, or where those leftovers in the fridge went-
Ghost knows it’s nearly time to act - his clever bird is slowly catching on as he grows less and less careful, more daring - but it’s on one of those nights that he feels bold enough to slide your balcony door ajar enough for him to slide inside and watch your chest rise and fill with each breath as you sleep peacefully unaware, that his phone rings and nearly ruins everything
It was only in recent weeks that Ghost felt confident enough, or perhaps stupid enough his Captain say, to observe you more closely, taking a more ‘hands-on’ approach. At night, he more often than not occupied the nooks and crannies of your domicile as you tossed and turned in your sleep, mere steps away from the man who simply wished to watch you dream for now
He can’t explain his fascination with you even to himself - it’s as if he awoke one morning to discover he- someone had drilled a hole into his skull and poured your liquid form directly into his cranium
He sometimes wishes you were as easy to catch as a common insect, wishes that he could examine you under a microscope, to pin your extremities down and take a scalpel to your soft flesh to finally peer inside and see what makes you tick- but he knows he must tread lightly, keep you from bleeding out on the table too soon
Always careful and sure of his movements as he inched your bedroom door open that night, he had been preoccupied on watching you for any sudden indication of disturbing and waking you, he’d been entirely caught off guard by the sudden buzzing going off in his pocket
He hadn’t been expecting anything from his cell that night, considering that this was the first sign of life his the device had shown in the month he’d been forced on leave, but he thanked whatever God might still be listening to him that the ringer was off like it always was, saving him from the disaster that would have been his ringtone suddenly waking you just before two o’ clock in the morning to a masked stranger lurking in your doorway
Though the phone call hadn’t woken you, it had startled Ghost enough to throw him off, had him stepping back in surprise and making the near fatal mistake of stepping on one of your cats squeaky toys
The cheap pet store toy goes off in the otherwise deadly silent room, only the light of the moon creeping through your curtains casts a faint glow across your sleeping figure, which to Ghost’s horror, begins to stir softly
Ghost has backed out of your bedroom, slipped out the balcony door, silently shut it behind him and jumped back down onto the street with the agility of a trained professional in their element, all before the call has even been sent to voicemail
He’s ripping the device from his pocket and slamming thick fingers onto buttons as the sudden surge of adrenaline catches up to him- as he realizes just how fucking close that was - daring to glance up and spot a single light turning on in the window he knows is your bedroom
“What?” He asks harshly into the receiver, uncaring to check what the caller ID says- only one person has his cell number anyhow
“I’ll be honest,” The Captain’s accent comes through clear as day, sounding all too chipper for the current time on the clock. “I was expectin’ at least a slightly warmer greetin’ from you.”
“After a month of hearing jack shit from you?” Ghost knows he’s being slightly crueller than he needs to be. He is happy to hear Price’s voice, but the inconvenient timing of this call has him on edge, has him wishing this conversation would end already. His body may be out of your flat, but his mind is still up there with you, wondering if you’ve gone back to sleep yet, if you were convinced it was just the cat moving around at night. “Wha’ is it, Cap?”
There’s silence on the line for a moment, shuffling and the tell-tale sound of the older man letting out a deep sigh as he settles in says, “You’ve been… quiet Ghost. Was expectin’ to have heard from you by now.”
“Ain’t I supposed to be bloody takin’ it easy? As you’d put it? Why would I call when you’re the one that fuckin’ sent me away.” He surprises even himself with his harshness towards a man he holds so much respect for, one of the few people he holds to such a high standard. But the inconvenience of the timing of this call has Ghost on edge, has him uneasy, spitting out any words that will end this call and allow him to let out the breath he feels he’s still holding in.
“Fair ‘nough.” The Captain answers, having already suspected that this would likely not turn into the most joyous of phone calls. “Though for the record, you know it was never my call, Ghost. I pushed against it, vouched for you, they just-” the older man lets another deep sigh before he decides to end that train of thought and get to the point of why he called in the first place. “They’re saying they’re willing to have you come in now, with the time that’s passed. Retake your psych eval. You tell them whatever they want to hear to pass you, and you’re back in, you hear me?”
He can almost picture it, the longer Price goes on
He could pick up the duffel bag he’s had packed and sitting ready by the door since the moment he’d been put on this mandatory leave, drive to base, bullshit his way through whatever fuckin’ questions are meant to determine whether he’s fit for duty or not (even if he risks returning with a mind even darker than when they sent him away-), and be back on the battlefield by the end of the week, gunshots ringing in his ears once more and blood under his fingernails
The thing is however, there’s an itch under his skin he hasn’t been able to scratch yet, a melody stuck on repeat in his mind he hasn’t been able to perfect the tune to quiet yet, a sliver he put into his flesh himself and hasn’t found a way to pry out without making a mess
“Wish it were that simple.” The masked man grumbles under his breath, leaning his head back against the scratchy brick of the building, staring up at the starless sky, the only light he can see is one leading him back towards you
“What was that?” Price attempts to clarify, believing he’s misheard his Lieutenant. From his perspective, this is the news his second in command has been waiting to hear this entire time and he suffered through days of boredom and inactivity. He figured this would be a quick call that ended with his missing task force member returning as soon as possible
“‘Fraid I ain’t quite ready yet, sir. Got something I need to take care of first.”
“You- how do you mean, Ghost?” He asks again, in slight disbelief that the man on the other end of the line isn’t itching to return as he believed he would be.
“Took your advice, Cap. Found a distraction. Can’t go being upset now, to find out I’m distracted.”
It takes him longer than it should, to come up with what he considers as Plan A
Every scenario he dreamt up in his head, every possible meet-cute that could occur, none of it seemed good enough for inserting himself into your life and ensuring his spot became a permanent one
What if he caught you at a bad time and you hardly spared a glance at him?
What if he intimidated you, the way he tended to throw most people off?
What if you found him strange, creepy, scary?
What if you didn’t like him and he ruined any chance he ever had at doing this right?
He couldn’t risk such a thing, not when he intended on keeping you around for a long, long time
He had to ensure that your first meeting went well, was one where you would be just as infatuated with him as he’d been with you
In order for this to work, he had to have you approach him
Either way, he was going to have you, he would just rather if you went willingly and happily
The idea had struck him on a Saturday, as he watched you and your coworker locking up the bookstore one evening, overhearing a snippet of your conversation had a lightbulb appearing above his head
You stood by the shopfront as your coworker tugged on the door handle, making sure it was locked tight for the night, before she mentioned to you; “God, I wish payday wasn’t a week away.”
“Tell me ‘bout it.” You’d agreed, readjusting the strap of your constantly slipping tote bag on your shoulder. “I hope I’ve got enough money in my bank account to cover my coffee tomorrow morning.”
Bingo
He’d shown up to the cafe extra early the next morning, though he always arrived at least a half hour before you did, wanting to fade into the background of the bustling morning crowd before you popped in
He’d considered finding a way to hack your bank cards and have them malfunction, but then thought better of it, curious if he could go about this another way that was less likely to leave a digital footprint
He knew the barista working the counter this morning was a newer hire, hadn’t even been here for a full month yet
He tried to look as non-intimidating as he could as he walked up to her, though that was no easy feat considering his stature alone
He ordered his drink, his fee for being able to occupy the corner table as long as he liked, before he told her he had a strange request to make
He was confident that she wouldn’t tell him no, that she was still new enough to the job that she wouldn’t want to deny a paying customer
He explained that there’d be a woman coming in later, and that he wanted to pay for her order
Ghost could see how the naive girl was almost fooled into believing he was sweet for a moment, perhaps caring even, asking him if he was wanting to start one of those pay it forward trains where everyone pays for the person behind them- before he cut her off
“No.” He’d clarified firmly, seeing her eyes widen only slightly before hastily putting her customer service face back in place. “Only her.”
He said he wanted to her pretend as though your cards weren’t working when you would go to pay- to tell you they had declined or something, before he’d step in and pay for you
“She’s an old friend o’ mine. Haven’t seen her in a while. Was hoping you could help me with this sort o’ … ‘prank’ if you will.”
Any hesitation the woman might have still been harbouring quickly disappeared when a 20£ note was flashed to her
Nearly a half hour later, he watches his plan unfold without a hitch
You think nothing of it the first time the barista tells you your payment didn’t go through, becoming confused when it declines a second time, and increasingly flustered each time after that when every method of payment you have can’t cover your 5£ morning drink
Ghost watches this unfold with a satisfied smirk hidden under his plain medical mask - he thought the balaclava might be a bit too much for your first meeting - enjoying seeing you flounder momentarily, unaware of how everything you know is about to change as he steps closer, extending his gloved hand next to you, close enough to feel your heat radiating through your jacket, before he’s tapping his card against the machine and speaking to you for the first time
“I’ve got tha’ for ya.”
And suddenly, as simple as flicking a switch on, as easy as waking up from a peaceful sleep, Ghost now gets to watch all his hard work pay off right before him, as your eyes meet finally meet his for the first time
He has to actively fight to hear your incessant apologies and thank you’s aimed his way over the thundering of his heart beating in his damaged eardrums, has to refrain himself from grinning as wide as a Cheshire Cat beneath his mask and give himself away too soon
Though his poker experience is usually limited to late nights under foreign stars with the 141, Ghost knows how to play his cards right, especially with you
He turns you down at your first offer to pay him back, letting you stew in the awkward discomfort of a stranger saving your ass in front of other strangers for a moment longer, before you’re saying the exact words he wanted to hear coming from your lips, as though he’d handed you the script himself
“Do you come here often? I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”
With a hurried promise to meet him here at this time next week, and a sheepish smile sent his way as you duck out of the busy cafe to head to work, Ghost slips the barista another 20£ in thanks before he’s out of the shop as well, following you from a distance, each step he takes feeling lighter than the next
You can’t keep pretending anymore
Even your friends are starting to take notice
Well, if you can count the people who are forced to spend time with you, your classmates and coworkers, as friends
“You all good over there?” Your colleague asks you as you’re restocking books on the shelves one afternoon, having noticed the way you jumped in surprise when a customer rounded the corner unexpectedly
“Yeah I-” You take a steadying breath, one hand still clutching your frantic heart as it races in your chest. “I’ve just been paranoid recently. Think school’s getting to me.”
You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, based off the way she’s still looking at you, before she decides to drop the subject for now, going to greet the couple that just walked in
You’re not sure you’d believe yourself either, if you were the one on the outside looking in
While it was true that you were in a particularly busy portion of the semester at the moment, your assignments and grades were unfortunately the furthest thing from your mind
You’d been able to play it off at first, blaming your constantly preoccupied mind and overloaded schedule, how else could you keep forgetting such silly things like turning the lamp off though you could’ve sworn you had- and believing you’d left yourself two slices of pizza when the plate in the fridge obviously only had one on it but wait you only ordered a small and ate half last night how could- and the plants that you knew you kept neglecting suddenly began blooming back to life when you knew you hadn’t watered them in ages
Those strange occurrences, those little blips in your memory were easier to pass off, less difficult to wrestle around in with in your psyche and instead pass off as moments of forgetfulness, a busy student and part time employee with too much on her plate and not enough of a social life
But then things went from being strange, to downright concerning
You knew you had locked the balcony door last night, hell you checked it every damn night, a habit you’d had long before you lived on your own in the middle of a busy city, so why were you not only often finding it unlocked, but one night you found it slightly ajar, the morning breeze rustling the curtains as though they were taunting you step closer
Speaking to some of your other neighbours in passing, none of them had anything close to similar complaints about the laundry machine stealing their undergarments as a price to pay for clean laundry, your panties apparently being the only victims, something you were trying to convince yourself wasn’t as bizarre as it clearly was, especially when you were folding laundry one day and discovered you had quite literally not a single pair of knickers left
And then there were the dreams
If you could even call them that
Dreams where a large, dark stranger creeps into your home, into your bedroom, and simply watches you
Lurks in the corners of your flat and observes your every move, your every breath, never making a single sound, as silent as a ghost
And the stranger never does anything, never says anything, only ever just stands there, until you wake up and you can swear you see his shadow disappearing out of the corner of your eyes as you open them
It doesn’t take long for you to start noticing the shadow when you’re awake too
Disappearing around bends and corners, slipping through grocery aisles and alley ways, blending amongst crowds and backgrounds, vanishing when you turn your head to catch sight of him
You feel like you’re losing your mind
“Why don’t you come out with Jordan and I tonight?” She tries again, coming to drop another box full next to your feet. “Take your mind off of school. We’re going to try that new pub down near Walton Street.”
“I would, but-” You cut yourself off, spotting your manager coming to ring up a customer at the front. The two of you exchange knowing glances and small smiles, knowing your sweet old man of a boss doesn’t truly mind when his employees chit chat together, he says he likes seeing you all getting along, but you still try to keep up appearances
You put your thumb and pinky out to look like a phone before shaking it by your ear, letting your coworker know you’ve got plans for the night as she playfully rolls her eyes at you and mouths “I see, I see” with her hands up in mock surrender, before she’s retreating to gather more boxes from the back
It’s the same plans you’ve had almost every night for going on nearly two weeks now
While it was true that the sudden strange occurrences in your life were preoccupying most of your mind these days, you were still in fact a busy student, and so while you hadn’t entirely forgotten about the stranger you’d promised a coffee to the week prior, you couldn’t hide your genuine surprise at seeing him there that next Sunday
He was sat at a table in the corner, his hands free of any drink, allowing you to pay him back, just as he said he would
What he hadn’t prefaced the last time however, was how quickly he’d make you fall for him
While he might not have been the type of guy you would have originally gone for, unable to deny the intimidating aura that follows him around, you were all too pleased to discover that behind that hardened exterior was someone you got along with without even having to try, discovering he agreed with everything you said, had a lot in common with you, listened attentively to every word you spoke, not to mention he was certainly not hard on the eyes
You weren’t able to sit with him long that morning, explaining to him that the cafe was usually your much needed caffeine stop on your way to work, though you’d walked to the bookstore that morning with a pep in your step, and a new number in your contacts, under the name Simon
It wasn’t even a full 24 hours later when he’d first called you up
You were doing dishes in your flat, getting ready to turn in early that night when your phone rang
You couldn’t help the blush that overtook you at hearing his gravelly voice come through the line, tickling your ear as he apologized for already calling you so soon, he just couldn’t remember the name of that book you’d mentioned yesterday and it was bothering him because he wanted to read it before he saw you again
Next thing you knew, close to three hours had gone by, and you felt like a teenager when you both admitted neither wanted to hang up yet, satisfying one another with a promise to call again soon
Soon, it turns out, was the very next night
And the night after that
And the night after that
And soon, you can Simon were talking on the phone every night before bed, hours and hours racking up as you learned more about each other
It was a nice distraction from the source of your anxieties you refused to fully acknowledge yet, a welcome way to take your mind off the stress you’d been experiencing
If you weren’t already so distracted, you might have been paying just a little closer attention
You might have noticed how skilled he was at deflecting personal question aimed his way, or how he was able to answer without truly answering, always quickly turning the spotlight back to you, making you feel seen and listened to in a way no man had done before, taking the attention away from him time and time again
You might have noticed he agreed with you a little too often, never actually voicing any opinions until he knew what yours was first, never taking a stance unless he knew what yours was
What you really should have noticed was the way he seemed to know things about you that you couldn’t remember telling him, chalking it up to being so tired some nights you must have forgotten sharing that with him
In the end, Simon was saying all the right things at the right time, and you were all too happy to hear what you wanted to hear
It was barely ten minutes passed 9 when you were turning the key in the lock for the night, making sure the doors wouldn’t budge before you tightened your hold on your bag and began the trek home, the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter at the thought of hearing Simon’s voice through the phone soon enough
Luckily, you were only about eight blocks away from home, and the summer sun had only just begun setting as the last of the customers were dwindling out of the shop, meaning you weren’t walking in total darkness quite yet
Yet somehow, something in the air tonight felt different, had the hairs on the back of your neck rising as though anticipating a predator lurking around the corner, ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey
You tried you continue convincing yourself you were nothing short of delusional, paranoid, that watching too many true crime docs was getting to you
But then, just as you were waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign to change, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your shadow
You whipped your head around too quickly, straining your neck but desperate to catch a glimpse and prove you weren’t crazy, but as always, there was no one there
The small crowd around you began crossing the street, unaware of the adrenaline begin to course through your veins as you hobbled along with them, noticing with regret that no one else continued in the direction you would have to turn, leaving you to traverse the next few blocks alone
You hurried your pace, trying to shake the undeniable feeling of something being wrong, when for the first time, you heard your shadow
Light footsteps that grew heavier the more you paid attention to them, the kind that weren’t casually strolling by as you might have hoped, but rather were on a determined path, and to your utter fear, were gaining speed
You never once dared turn your head this time, fear convincing you that should you stop and look back, he would be right there over your shoulder, a shadow coming to life just in time to take yours away
With your building in sight, you said fuck it and broke out into a sprint, hurrying towards the main doors and frantically entering in your code before the worst fo your fears could come true, never glancing back as the doors unlocked and you made a mad dash inside and up the stairs
You were barely through your apartment door before your phone was in your hand, dialling the last number you’d called, the only number you called these days
He answered before the first ring had finished
“‘ello?”
“Simon.” You hated the way your voice sounded, trembling around his name and giving away the clear distress you were in, but you couldn’t help it. Your poor heart was racing a mile a minute, you had tears threatening to spill over your lash line at any moment, you were trembling like a leaf and wanted to seek out the only comfort you’d had recently
“Wha’s wrong?” He immediately asked, evidently hearing your panic through the phone
“Simon, I just-” you let out a gasp, no longer in control of the tears that were starting to run down your cheeks. You double, triple checked the lock on your door was secured before on trembling legs, you slowly made your way towards the balcony doors, blood running cold when you spotted the latch undone. “I know this sounds insane but I really need you, I- I swear someone’s been following me and I think he’s outside my flat and I- I’m so scared Simon I don’t-”
“You’re alrigh’ love.” He cut off your rambling, the confidence in his voice lending you a sliver of strength for a moment. “Jus’ breathe, yeah? I’ll be righ’ there.”
True to his word, Simon is knocking at your flat door in less than four minutes, another anomaly you would have noticed had you not been in such a frantic state of mind
“It’s me love. Jus’ me.” You hear his voice say through the door, standing up on tip toes to peer through the peephole and confirm for your own peace of mind that it really truly is your knight in shining armour, hardly paying any mind to the fact that this is the first time you see him without a mask on the lower half of his face
You’re practically banging the door against the wall as you swing it open in a hurry to get him inside, grabbing him by his jacket to pull his figure closer to yours, barely giving him a chance to shut it behind him before you’re clinging to him like a lost pet whose been returned to their owner
You can hear him shushing you, a large hand coming to soothe your hair as another grabs you by the waist and holds you tighter, trying to reassure you between your sobs that you’re alright, that he’s here now, that you’re always safe with him
There’s a fleeting moment where you can’t help but think about how this isn’t you, how you’ve always been fiercely independent, how you’ve never needed to rely on others for comfort before, let alone a man you met all of two weeks ago, but the thought is gone just as quickly as it appeared, when Simon pulls back to hold your face gently in both of his hands, thumbs carefully rubbing tears off your cheeks as he looks at you with such sincerity, you couldn’t care less if you’ve known him for two weeks or two years, right now you just need someone to tell you everything is okay, that you’re not insane
He leads you towards the couch, planting you sideways across his lap as he leans your head on his shoulder and rubs a soothing hand across your back
“Now, try again, love. Tell me wha’s happened.”
And when he’s asking you so sweetly, touching you so nicely in a way no one has in who knows how long, how could you every deny him?
You tell him everything, all of it, the bizarre coincidences you can no longer explain away, the strange happenings that you cannot chalk up to forgetfulness, the odd feeling of being constantly watched you cannot shake, you tell him all of it
And Simon, he listens to it all, every concern of yours, every worry you’d had, he nods along showing you he’s listening, never interrupting you, always rubbing some part of your skin to let you know he’s here, he’s here and he’s got you
By the end of it, you’re no longer crying, your heart has begun to slow to a more normal rhythm, the goosebumps dotting your skin only a result of the large man caressing you as you avoid dribbling snot onto his jumper
“You must think I’m crazy, right? I- I even think I sound crazy.” You admit, avoiding looking at him as you pick at a loose thread on his collar
“Not at all, love.” His words have your eyes lifting to meet his, finding nothing but honesty in his steady gaze.
“W-what?”
“Said I believe you.” He reiterates, giving your hip a slight squeeze before he’s dragging his fingers down across your thigh, rubbing soothing strokes against your flesh. “Everythin’ you jus’ told me, I don’ wanna scare you bird, but I think you migh’ be righ’. Sounds like someone’s been followin’ ya.”
He must see it in your face, the way your heart practically drops to the floor at his words, because he’s gripping the meat of your thigh a little tighter, opening his mouth to continue before you can spiral further
“But you’re so smart, love. You did exactly the righ’ thing, callin’ me. You knew I wouldn’ let anythin’ happen to ya. I’m here now, I’ve got ya.”
His words are akin to stepping into a steaming warm bath at the end of a gruelling day, the exact comfort you needed in that moment, easing you slowly back into a state of calm, though you don’t feel quite out of the woods yet
“Let me take care of ya, huh? Here, follow me.” He gives your thigh one last squeeze before he’s helping you back up onto more stable legs, never going without at least on hand touching you as he guides you towards your balcony door, making a show of peering outside for any lurking dangers before he snaps the lock in place and draws the curtains shut
“C’mon, let’s check all your windows, eh? Can’t be too sure.”
And so you follow him room to room, watching him with growing gratitude as he goes from window to window, ensuring it’s properly shut and locked before moving onto the next, scanning each room for any sign of a disturbance, letting you know everything is clear each time, until there’s only one door left to go through
Simon inches the door to your bedroom open with the toe of his boot, letting it hit the wall before he steps inside, doing a full scan before he nods towards you to follow him in
You take a seat at the end of your bed as you watch him move through your space, checking your window and closing your curtains, even going as far as to open your closet and peek under the bed, something that forces a fleeting smile on your face in spite of the circumstances
“Think that’s everythin’, birdie.” He admits, coming to sit down next to you on the bed, thighs touching, his muscled arm sneaking around your shoulders to pull you into him. “My brave girl. You’ve been goin’ through all this by yourself, huh?”
“Mhm.” You confirm, feeling too exhausted after the rush of emotions and adrenaline let down to say anything more, too tired to notice the way he’s taken to calling you his all of a sudden, especially when Simon’s embrace is so warm, so inviting
“Poor bird. Must’ve been so scary, not knowing who’s out there.” He coos into your ear, brushing your hair back from your neck, letting you feel his hot breath against your skin. “Aren’t you so glad you called? That I’m ‘ere now?”
“Mhm. Thank you, Simon.” You murmur, the events of the day really catching up to you now
“You never have to thank me, love. I’m here with ya. Not goin’ anywhere.” You feel your lashes flutter shut when his chapped lips come to press a chaste kiss to your temple, as gentle as a butterflies wings as this behemoth of a man comforts you. “You jus’ let me take care of ya now, love. Let me make it all better. Make ya feel good.”
There’s a fraction of a second where your mind catches back up to you, where logic floats up to the surface of your consciousness when you feel Simon’s hand sneak under your shirt, something on the tip of your tongue about how this is only the third time you meet face to face, how you haven’t gone on a proper date yet, how you’ve only known him two weeks-
Any common sense flies out the window however when his lips connect with yours
As his calloused fingers manage to rid you of your top before tangling in your hair, your own are grasping on tightly at his collar, allowing him to take control of the kiss, to take control of the situation, to do as he’s promised and make you feel good, make you forget about everything that’s had you so on edge and allow yourself to be taken care of
Simon hasn’t steered you wrong so far, has he? He’s been nothing but kind, nothing but attentive, nothing but sweet and caring and present and-
Fuck can he kiss
Your heart is racing for an entirely different reason as his fingers reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall haphazardly amongst your sheets before he’s pulling his lips off of yours, kissing and nipping along your jaw, your neck, down your collarbone and sternum until his hot breath is tickling one of your nipples and he sucks it gently into his mouth, teeth playfully skimming the raised bud
You can’t help the way you melt like putty in his hands, unknowingly as touch starved as he is, unable to hold back the sounds of your enjoyment when his other hand comes up to tweak your neglected breast, squeezing and pinching until it’s as taut as the one he’s still slobbering all over
Your fingers are pulling at the fabric of his jumper, arching into his touch and gasping when he lets your breast go with a ‘plop’, before his mouth is trailing wet kisses down your sternum, down your stomach, before his skilled fingers are tugging down your pants
“No panties, hm?” You never could have imagined his voice could be deeper than it already was, but the sound of his gravelly accent has chills running up your spine, blush deepening when you see the dark look in his eyes as he peers down at your bare, weeping slit
You have half a mind to explain that you haven’t had time to run to the shops and replace all your missing knickers, but quickly lose any sense of time and place when his broad shoulders are pushing themselves between your thighs, opening them up for his head to drop down and his lips to wrap around your throbbing clit
You can feel him smirk against your folds at the sound you let out, something between a moan and a gasp, before he’s pulling out more delicious noises from you with his tongue alone
“Mmm, you really do taste as good as you look.” He murmurs against your dripping folds, eyes dancing with mischief before his lips are on you again
You feel like your entire being has been pulled apart and put back together in the blink of an eye, your would be stalker having you fearing for your life, and now Simon having you holding on for dear life
You can both hear and feel him groaning against your pussy, licking up your arousal, probing his skilled tongue around your entrance before plunging it as deep as the muscle will go, reminiscent of a man starved as he devours you from the inside out, with no sign of being satiated any time soon
“Simon!” You plead, toes curling, legs shaking. You can hardly believe this is happening, that you’re on the precipice of cumming on this man’s tongue so soon, when suddenly his thumb sneaks down and slides across your clit engorged clit, rubbing steady circles until you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids, eyes rolling to the back of your head and his name the only word you know as you fall headfirst off that cliff known as ecstasy
You’re gasping for breath, still coming back to yourself when he finally pulls himself away, licking his lips as though this was a five star meal he’s just tasted, the look in his eyes telling you he’s likely to be a returning customer
With the way he’s brought you to orgasm faster than any vibrator ever has, you’re hardly in any place to protest when you hear the sound of his belt being undone, his zipper being pulled down, a ringing in your ears when your eyes land on his throbbing, erect member
You barely get a chance to gasp at its size before Simon is on you again, strong hands dragging you further up the mattress before he’s kissing you senseless yet again
You can feel him pumping his cock with one hand as he takes his time tasting you, having you taste yourself on his tongue
He pulls one of your legs up around his waist, opening your centre up to him before you can feel the head of his prick sliding through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you’re practically shaking, rolling your hips up against him
He’s swallowing your gasp when he notches himself at your entrance, wasting no time before he’s sinking himself inch by devastating inch, plunging further and further than you thought was possible, until he’s all the way in, hips flush with yours as he’s sheathed himself completely inside you, a perfect fit
While sweet might have been a word you used for the Simon who talks to you on the phone at all hours, who buys you coffee when your cards decline, you cannot bring yourself to believe that that same sweet Simon is the same man who begins thrusting in and out of you with such vigour, such force, it knocks the breath right out of your lungs as your headboard begins banging against the wall
“Fuck!” He’s grunting in your ear, the sounds of skin slapping and your wetness squelching echoing in the room. “Fuckin’ knew it. Knew you’d be this tight. So warm, so wet for me. Perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
“Simon! Oh, Simon!” His name is the only word your lips can make sense of, the only thing your mind can understand. You’re already headed towards another climax, your body feeling like an instrument he’s spent years mastering the art of playing
“Yeah, you gonna come again, pretty bird? Come on my cock? Just for me?” He’s picking up his pace, intent of meeting you there with his own release, grip tightening on your waist as he plunges in and out of you, feeling your tight walls increasingly gripping his cock. “Say it. Say it’s just for me. Say it.”
“It- it’s for you. Just for you, Simon! You!”
“Fuckin’ righ’ it is. My perfect girl.” He praises, sucking dark purple circles onto your neck, fingers unrelenting in their teasing against your clit. “You want it, pretty girl? Then fuckin’ take it.”
Your vision goes white, body practically going numb the pleasure is so all consuming as it shoots through every nerve ending and back, every star in the galaxy appearing before your eyes as you come on his cock. You’re so lost in your orgasm, you hardly notice when he groans out your own name, hips stilling as he shoots his load into you, rutting helplessly against your overused cunt to drag out every second of ecstasy, making sure you take very last drop he has to give you
If you were exhausted before, you’re practically dead to the world now, uncaring that Simon doesn’t even pull out his softening member as he maneuvers the two of you under the covers, smoothing your hair back as he kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips
He rubs soothing hands up and down your naked back, telling you how good you did, how good you are for him, how good he’ll be for you, before he’s reaching to turn your lamp off, casting the two of you into darkness as sleep fights to drag you under
You’re on the brink of slumber, too spent to really think about anything that’s transpired tonight, though just conscious enough to feel the smallest of alarms try and go off in the back of your foggy mind at Simon’s words, the last of your self preservation instincts trying to weave its way to the front of your mind, waving the red flag as high as it’ll go
“Good thing I came over soon as you called. Who knows what could’ve happened.”
Your eyes snap open
You’d never told Simon where you lived
~~~~~
If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to offer you a sticker of appreciation
Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! Thank you for your patience on this fic, I cannot even tell you how many times I felt like this story was ready to be posted, but I’d reread it and wouldn’t be satisfied with how it was. This is probably the draft I’ve spent the most time on, and so again I really appreciate the patience in waiting for the upload
But here she is!!! And I hope she was worth the wait
I know this is different from the usual fluff I post, both with a darker Ghost and smut still not being my forte, but I really do sincerely hope this part 2 was everything you guys hoped for! I had a lot of fun writing it, turned into one of my longest ones, and now I’m excited to get to my inbox and answer more requests from you lovely folks
- M 🫶🏻
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley#readwritealldayallnight
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shower sounds
It was wrong. It was immoral.
But Simon 'Ghost' Riley couldn't help himself. He just couldn't.
You were his neighbor. His sweet, smiling, food-bringing goddess next-door. You had shared conversations with him, a few bottles of wine from time to time, too many cookies for him to count- you shared walls with him.
For the most part, the walls you shared with him weren't a problem. Sometimes you had your TV volume up too loud, sometimes you sang a bit too loudly to whatever music you were listening to, but that never bothered Simon.
Sometimes he could hear your cat jump up to her cat tower. He could always hear (and sometimes feel the vibration) when she would launch her chubby self up to the tower, and the tower would always knock against the wall you shared with Simon. It made him scoff quietly every time. He had a fondness for that fat cat, whether he would admit it out loud or not.
Maybe her owner, too.
His excellent hearing was partially to blame, so he never made it to be a big deal. He never wanted you to know he heard you that much, didn't want to make you feel bad for some reason.
And those noises really weren't all that bad. In fact, he looked forward to hearing those mundane sounds. Sometimes a cupboard would close a bit too loudly; he never imagined you being the type to go randomly slamming cupboards shut, and he would wonder if you were alright. If he didn't hear anything else, he wouldn't worry as much.
It was a different kind of noise that Simon 'Ghost' Riley was bothered by that came from your unit. Noises, rather. And it was always one kind of noise that led to another…
The first time it happened, he felt almost ashamed of himself. Almost. Maybe he'd be more full of shame if he hadn't felt so damn good after.
Simon had been lounging on one end of his couch, TV remote in hand. He was switching between channels when he heard the familiar sound of your shower turning on.
There was always this almost ringing-like sound that would come through the building's old pipes when the water was on, especially in the showers. The sound was always the same when the shower turned on, though if you adjusted the spray of the shower head, it would become higher or lower pitched depending on the intensity of the stream of water.
He heard you turn on some music before he could hear the shower curtain being drawn back and forth as you probably stepped into the shower, naked-
Simon shook his head, trying to focus back on the task at hand, picking something to watch on TV.
But there was nothing on.
He decided to give up on that. Right after his television went black, he heard the familiar high pitched noise of the building's old plumbing go up a few levels.
Simon wouldn't have thought anything of it if his apartment hadn't been dead quiet, and if he hadn't heard a small moan through the shared wall between you.
Simon's eyes widened as he listened, his ear turned towards the wall now so he could listen more closely. He could hear the harsh spray of your showerhead, his mind racing with what you could be using it for and where the stream was being directed on your body.
He felt a spark of something, and his body began to respond to the intimate sounds you were making that echoed into his apartment through the wall. His breathing began to slow and he closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds. He could hear your soft whimpering and short gasps even clearer now.
A lump began to form in his throat as his body continued to react, his heart racing with excitement. His hand instinctively went to his groin, his fingers tracing the outline of his growing arousal. He knew he shouldn't be standing there, his ear on the wall between you, his eyes closed, listening to you pleasure yourself in the shower-
But he just couldn't help himself. The sounds were drawing him in, making him feel like he was part of something intimate and-
Simon's eyes snapped open, and he moved away from the wall, trying to compose himself. He couldn't believe he was getting turned on by listening to his sweet, adorable, sweets-and-food gifting neighbor getting herself off in the shower. He needed to put some distance between you. He needed to get out of there, to clear his head and calm down.
He had taken the first step to move into another room when he heard a faint whisper through the wall.
"Oh, yeah..."
Back against the wall he was.
He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He was stuck, his ears glued to the wall, listening to the sounds coming from the other side.
The sounds were getting louder, and Simon could hear you more clearly now. You were whimpering and moaning, your breathing a little shallower now.
He continued to listen, unable to move away. His breathing was ragged and sharp, his body reacting to every single noise on the other side of the wall.
Simon's hand went back down to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers tracing the material. He felt a shiver go down his spine as he realized what he was about to do, but he didn't stop himself.
He unbuttoned his jeans, his hands moving urgently as he listened to the sounds coming from the other side of the wall. He was getting more and more turned on as he heard your moans and whimpers growing louder, the sounds getting more frequent.
He shoved his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement, his other hand grasping his already rock-hard length.
He stroked himself slowly, his hand still pressed against the wall, his ear inches from the spot where your voice seemed to be coming from.
His eyes closed once more as he imagined what you might look like, pleasuring yourself in the shower, as he stroked his throbbing cock, already glistening at the tip with precum.
To keep his own pleasured sounds from getting too loud, in fear that you would hear him and maybe stop, he bit down on his own tongue, quickly tasting copper in his mouth as a muffled groan escaped his lips.
He imagined you in the shower, how wet you must be in so many ways, how slick your skin was as you touched yourself, and how much you wanted this, needed this release just as desperately as he did.
With a low growl, he began pumping his shaft faster, harder as he imagined your wet skin, your curves, your breasts, your ass... He could picture it all so vividly, thanks to the erotic symphony playing through the thin wall separating them.
He was stroking his thick, angry cock faster now, his hips rocking slightly, the sound of his own heavy breathing mingling with the distant echoes of your pleasure-filled cries.
"Fuck," he heard you whisper breathlessly before letting out a soft whine. You were getting close. He could tell.
So was he.
The sound of your moans grew louder, more urgent, and Simon found himself matching the rhythm of your strokes, pumping his own cock in time with your breathy pleas.
His grip tightened around his shaft, the veins bulging as he worked himself closer to the edge. The image of you touching yourself, lost in pleasure, fueled his desire, making him ache to be inside you.
He could almost taste you on his tongue, feel your slick heat enveloping him as he thrust deep. The fantasy was so real, so intoxicating, that he swore he could smell the sweet musk of your arousal carried through the thin partition.
A guttural groan tore from his throat as he quickened his pace, chasing his impending climax. Precum dripped steadily from the tip of his cock, leaving a sticky trail on his fist as he pumped faster, harder.
Then, he heard what he had been waiting for most of all, a sound he knew was coming but wasn't sure what exactly it would sound like. And it was more delicious than he could have ever imagined.
He heard you cry out through the wall, in the shower, as your orgasm washed over you. He really hoped that your sound of released pleasure distracted you enough to not notice his own.
Simon's entire world narrowed to the sound of your climax, a whine that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of his reality. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard, and it shattered his last semblance of control.
He knew he was about to be loud. He needed to do something, fast, that wouldn’t mean biting his tongue or lip off-
Simon bit down on his clothed arm as he came undone, his orgasm ripping through him like a hurricane while the pain from biting his own arm threatened to tip the scales of pain and pleasure towards the former, but maybe that made him like it even more. Hot spurts of cum spurted from his cock, painting the wall he leaned against in thick, viscous streaks. His hips jerked erratically as he rode out the aftershocks, his vision flashing white behind clenched eyelids.
When Simon finally returned to Earth, he was left looking at the aftermath of his actions as he caught his breath, breathing in and out with his eyes closed, still listening intently through the wall just in case you had any more delicious sounds in you.
masterlist
#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#ghost mw2#call of duty#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x y/n#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon 'ghost' riley x y/n#simon riley x female reader#ghost smut#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley smut
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#AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES...


ʚɞ summary: the chronicles of what happens when you share a living space with the jjk men: expect tension, embarrassing revelations and (of course) séx! . . . ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso + nanami.
warnings. fem!reader, masturbation, panty stealing, plushie humping in choso's, penetration (p in v), doggystyle, oral (f receiving), 18+ minors dni.

SATORU GOJO — THE LOUD ONE!
satoru gojo is the most irritating, annoying and overly loud roommate you could possibly have.
at all hours of the day, he can be heard through the thin walls separating your rooms doing one (or all) of the following things: shouting down the phone to his bestfriend suguru, raging at his teammates for losing a match in a video game... and even jerking off.
yes, that's right.
and whatever satoru is doing to himself in there simply cannot feel good enough that it warrants the sheer amount of obnoxious moans that he releases; you're sure of it. he has to be playing it up purely to get on your nerves — and to his credit, it works.
so eventually, after yet another hour of trying to focus on doing some work on your computer but being unable to get anything done due to the noises coming from the other room of the apartment, you decide to do something about it.
without stopping to knock, you unceremoniously barge through his door, mouth already open in preparation of the spew of complaints you have ready to throw his way.
but, rather embarrassingly, once you lay eyes upon what he's currently doing, any and every word in the english language disappears from your mind without so much as a puff of smoke.
satoru, for his part, doesn't react at all save for looking mildly amused at your reaction. in fact... you think the pale hand he has wrapped around his cock even speeds up its languid strokes at the sight of you.
"girl, finally!" he sighs dramatically, lips spreading into a wide, impish smile as he beckons you with the curled finger of his other hand. "been waiting for you to get the hint for months now. i was starting to think you didn't want me too, honestly."
"you— what?" you push out awkwardly, wincing through your confusion as you fight the fruitless battle to tear your eyes from his unnecessarily big cock and meet his bright eyes.
"you heard me," satoru hums with an easy shrug, letting out one of those all-too-familiar, almost pornographic moans when he squeezes his own hand around the leaky tip of his shaft. "...or do you not want me too?"
sighing, you raise your thumb and forefinger to rub your stressed temple, shaking your head at the sheer audacity of this man. "you're ridiculous, gojo. i was hoping you were just pretending to jerk off in here— but no, of course you actually are."
"mhmm," he groans raspily between increasingly loud squelches of his cock. wait; is your scolding only helping him get off even faster? oh, you can't make this shit up. "keep talkin' to me just like that, baby."
"first of all, don't call me baby," you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger in his direction with a scowl etching its way onto your features. "and secondly, if you're gonna do this... stuff right next-door to me, can't you atleast try to keep it down? some of us have work to do."
satoru rolls his eyes at this, as if he's somehow the one being inconvenienced here; but any real irritation quickly evaporates into pleasure when he starts fondling his heavy balls, tongue lewdly lolling out of his mouth like a bitch in heat.
"i-i'll keep quiet. shit— i'll do whatever you fuckin' want if you just... just get me over the edge here, pretty girl. hah— help a guy out, would you, roomie?"
and damn if that isn't an enticing offer. finally getting rid of the noise around here so you can actually submit a work assignment on time for once?
yeah... you're definitely on board.
"fine," you mutter, attempting to sound as uninterested as possible as you shuffle closer to the bed. "what do you want me to do, gojo? and don't even bother asking me to suck your dick or anything, because who knows the last time you properly washed that—"
satoru snorts out a strangled laugh, shaking his head quickly and peering up at you with wide, darkened cerulean eyes. "n-no... not that. just— just talk to me, please? and call me satoru, not gojo, damn."
"okay..." you huff thoughtfully, brainstorming what you can say to get this over as quickly as possible. eventually, you purr: "are you gonna be a dirty boy and make a mess all over your hand for me, satoru? hmm?"
and, to your surprise and... arousal? that's all it takes to get him to explode, thick ropes of sticky white cum trickling from the reddened tip of his cock as he whines in ecstasy.
huh. maybe your work can wait a little longer.
SUGURU GETO — THE ONE WHO MAKES YOUR PANTIES GO POOF!
suguru geto is a man of many talents.
but in his humble opinion, the one he is most proficient at? oh, it has to be stealing various pairs of his cute little roommate's panties without her even taking notice.
yeah; that's right, his entire underwear drawer is not actually filled with articles of his own clothing, but rather with scraps of material he has swiped from your room over the past few months.
"ugh, i lost another pair of panties!" comes a frustrated groan from you room; you must be on the phone to one of your friends, suguru muses. "i swear, it's like there's a black hole at the bottom of that washer or something."
ah, if only you knew.
if only you knew that while you're busy stressing over the mystery of your missing underwear, suguru is slumped just against the other side of the thin wall that separates your rooms, one of the aforementioned pairs wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock.
he does this more often than he would like to admit — waits until he hears you get on the phone to jerk himself off. why? well, because then he can listen to your pretty voice while he bucks up into his fist. that's why.
"such a clueless girl..." suguru mutters under his breath as his eyes flutter closed, letting himself get lost in the combination of the soft fabric of your panties surrounding his shaft and the sound of you speaking ringing in his ears. "has no idea where her precious underwear keeps wandering off to."
meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, you have a mischievous smile pulling at your lips as you pretend to be utterly oblivious about your panty thief to your confused friend on the other end of the phone.
as if you wouldn't work out it was suguru snatching them — after all, who else could it possibly be? but you figured it was better this way, letting him think he's holding all the cards in this situation.
it only makes it all the more enjoyable for you.
leaning a little closer to the wall, you can faintly hear the familiar sounds of him getting himself off as you slowly dip a hand beneath your own skirt; and you're not wearing underwear, of course, because you don't have a single pair left thanks to your roommate.
you end up dropping the phone carelessly to the ground when suguru's deep, satisfied groan sounds out from his room, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as his orgasm swiftly brings you to your own.
so lost in your own pleasure are you that when the door softly clicks open, you don't have time to compose yourself before suguru strolls right on in, seeming much too casual for someone who just came in his hand.
"well well well," suguru hums smugly, tilting his head to the side and peering down at you with a condescending smile. "what do we have here, hmm? did you really think you could outsmart me, beautiful?"
oh.
maybe you really are clueless if you genuinely thought he didn't know you were pretending to be as such... but would it really be such a bad thing if he decides to punish you for your attempt at deception?
TOJI FUSHIGURO — THE ONE WHO NEVER PAYS RENT!
toji rarely (if ever) pays his part of the rent for your shared apartment.
he doesn't even bother trying to lie to you and tell you he'll scrounge up enough cash to cover it next time it's due, because he already knows you wouldn't buy that for a second.
so, instead, he offers you something else to keep you sated. something that he can say without a shadow of a doubt he can give to you better than anyone else could even hope to.
cock.
because if he keeps you in a perpetual state of bliss underneath the sheets of his bed, how can you possibly have any time remaining to think of such trivial things like paying the entire monthly rent on your own?
"mmm... what was i saying again, toji?" you slur, voice just delirious with pleasure as he pounds into you from behind, one strong hand effortlessly keeping your face pressed against the mattress.
"nothin', baby," toji lies easily, threading his thick fingers through the back of your hair in a distractingly tender gesture as his mean hips keep up their ruthless pace. "just relax and let y'erself feel me, yeah?"
"but—" you protest weakly, followed by an involuntary hiccup as his pudgy cockhead reaches that spongy spot inside of you once again. "i have a feeling it was important..."
"nah," he grunts dismissively, free hand snaking down to where your bodies are connected to rub messy, stimulating circles around the puffy bud that is your clit. "don't worry about it, pretty."
"...okay. if you say so." you mumble eventually, brain far too hazy from his skilful ministrations to bother putting up much of a fight against his convincing words.
toji's scarred lips spread into a victorious grin behind your back at how easily you give in. he just loves having you like this — so cockdrunk you can't even remember what you were talking about from one moment to the next.
and when the time inevitably comes for you to pay the rent on behalf of both of you yet again, he already knows you won't bat an eye; because, in the big scheme of things, what's a little cash matter if it means you get to have access to his sinful dick game whenever you so desire?
yeah... he'd say it's a pretty fair trade.
but the best part of all is that toji thinks he's the mastermind behind this little arrangement when in reality, if you were looking for a roommate who could pay their rent, you would never have picked someone who looks as jobless as he does in the first place.
but you'll continue to let him believe it was his idea; because, after all, he fucks you better when he's feeling proud of himself.
CHOSO KAMO — THE SECRETLY PERVERTED ONE!
choso doesn't mean to be perverted; not really.
but whether intentional or not, he finds himself desperate for anything that reminds him of you each time he gets himself off: a t-shirt, a pair of underwear, or even one of the cute little plushies you have lined up on your bed.
he wonders, fleetingly, what you'd think of him if you could see him humping one of your stuffed toys while you're out at work — would you be disgusted? would you kick him out and start the search for a new roommate?
or would you, just maybe... take pity on the poor boy and lend him a helping hand?
by the benevolence of some undefined higher power, choso doesn't have to mull over the answer to his question for much longer. because apparently, he was so desperate to release the desire coursing through his veins that he forgot to check the time before starting like he usually would.
so when he hears the tell-tale sign of the door opening and indicating that you've just come home from work, he has nowhere near enough time to cover up what he's been up to in your room while you were gone.
well, shit.
"hey cho, what are you doing in my— oh." comes your dumfounded voice as you peek your head around the slightly ajar doorway, eyes widening in a manner akin to a cartoon character at the sight of his sinful state.
choso blushes profusely, attempting to hide his face by ducking it into his shoulder with a muffled whimper of embarrassment. to his horror, his pathetically hard cock is fully exposed to your view, nestled between the soft limbs of one of your plushies where he had previously been thrusting.
you both stay completely silent for a few long moments, neither of you daring to move a single muscle... but it isn't long before your body is climbing onto the bed to join him before your mind can even begin to process your movements.
"w-what are you doing?... are you gonna hit me? because that would be okay, you can d-definitely hit me if you want!" choso squeaks hurriedly, peeking out from his shoulder and looking for all the word like a puppy who just got caught doing something naughty by its owner.
"i'm not gonna hit you, choso," you chuckle softly, carefully tugging your abused, slightly sticky plushie out from underneath him and tossing it away. "i wanna help you. don't you wanna try doing that to something other than a stuffed toy, hmm?"
"...oh, f-fuck!" he whines loudly, hips rutting just once against the mattress before his cock cruelly betrays him and spurts buckets of cum at the mere thought of being inside of you.
choso hides his face in shame again, figuring he must've absolutely ruined his chances with you now. because there's no way you would still want to help him after witnessing that little display, right?
wrong.
when you tug his head away from his shoulder by one of his scraggly pigtails and pull him into a searing kiss, he realizes maybe his pretty little roommate was just as perverted as him all along.
KENTO NANAMI — THE RESPECTFUL ONE!
kento is very fond of you; his sweet roommate who always wakes him up for work in the morning if he happens to accidentally oversleep and leaves him homemade dinner in the fridge to cheer him up after a late shift.
he figures these things making him feel attraction towards you is fairly normal — but it's the other, not-so-intentional things that make him go crazy for you the most.
when he spots you walking around the apartment in nothing but one of his oversized shirts and a pair of socks because your clothes are in the communal washer... or when he silently observes you bend over to grab something from the bottom cupboard in the kitchen?
yeah, those are the things that really make it hard for him not to pounce on you like some kind of feral animal.
it all comes to a crux when you come home in tears one night, babbling about your fool of a boyfriend having the audacity to cheat on you. hmph, nanami never liked him anyway.
but there's no time for petty jealousies now — no, now is the time for him to make you realize that what you've been craving has been here all along, living in the room right next-door to yours.
so he pulls you into a gentle kiss, pouring all of his pent-up affection into the gesture as he effortlessly lifts you up onto the kitchen counter, positioning himself between your spread legs.
"i want to make you forget about him, beautiful," nanami whispers, voice rough with sincereness as he places a soft peck on the corner of your lips. "may i?"
and you're nodding shakily, but it isn't enough. he reaches up with a large hand to grasp your chin in a firm yet tender grip, thumb stroking over your skin. "use your words for me, dear. come on, i know you can do it."
"y-yes. please, kento."
and that's all it takes for nanami to fall to his knees, brushing his lips over the insides of your thighs as he slowly works his way upwards. god, he's wanted to do this for so long — if for nothing else then to thank you for taking such good care of him and never asking for anything in return.
but oh, is he going to give you something in return now; specifically, in the form of his hot mouth attached to your cunt, tongue lapping up every drop of your translucent juices as if it were the finest wine on the menu of a high class restaurant.
he can't help but wonder, while he's buried nose-deep in your sweet pussy, why on earth a man would choose to cheat on a goddess such as yourself.
but he supposes it doesn't matter, if it means that he's the one who finally gets to worship at your altar from now and for as long as you'll allow him the honour of doing so.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.
LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
#★sugoroo#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk#choso x reader#choso smut#geto smut#geto x reader#gojo smut#gojo#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#toji#gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami#gojo x you
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Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.
Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.
Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.
Part 2. Part 3.

When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.
She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.
"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"
You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"
Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.
A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.
"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.
It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.
You frown, unconvinced by his answer.
“Did Soap contaminate you?”
Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.
“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”
A smirk stretches your lips.
“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”
“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”
He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.
You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.
“What you wanted? A still open wound?”
“You.”
He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.
“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”
You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.
“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”
You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.
Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.
“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.
“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”
He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.
“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”
“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”
You raise an amused eyebrow.
“What kind of price?”
“A kiss.”
You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.
“With the mask on?”
He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.
“Take it off.”
You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.
You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.
“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”
#mine#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#cod#cod fanfic#cod x reader#writings#writers on tumblr#playing around with the format ~ :)#cos the post is prettier this way lol#cod fluff#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#fluff#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod ghost#ghost cod#ghost fluff#ficlet#cod fic#1k#2k#x reader
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Yandere kidnapper x reader

(He's hot...)
You jolt as thunder struck .You have always been afraid of thunder. The sudden intense noise always puts you on edge. However it's not just the volume, it’s the way it breaks the silence and reminds you shits can always happen the moment you least expect.
But there's nothing more terrifying than this monstrous man embracing you like there's no tomorrow.
His big arm wrap tightly around your waist while the other roams freely around other parts of your body. Lips attacking your neck groaning in satisfaction.
He always does this, he never gets sick of it. In fact it almost felt like hes addicted. Furthermore, he doesn't even wear a t-shirt around you, you once questioned him about this.
"Y/n your my lover, besides it helps me feel you more. Fucking clothes just get in the way baby." He responded with care as he kissed your cheeks.
He always whispers sweet things about you, how much he loves you and not just for your body but the whole you,how you're so perfect, your personality being the sweetest. How beautiful you are and how he would die and kill for you.
He always makes time for you. No matter how busy he is, just one word from you and he'll set it all aside just to spend time with you. He always takes care of you, give your needs and wants, you see you didn't even need to lift a finger, you just need to depend on him.
He truly is the best man. Any girl would love to have him, you too.... to be honest. It would all be so sweet. If....If he didn't kidnapped you months ago and forced you to stay with him.
He has brought you into a huge mansion in the woods with no human insight. 'I want us to be together with no interruption , others can go and fuck themselves. Now come here and gimme my morning kiss' you remembered him say once.
At first you tried to escape, but how could you , the windows from your room are way too high to jump and he doesn't even let you out of this stupid bedroom. So you started behaving to gain his trust until you're allowed to roam outside this room.
Your hardwork pays off , he starts trusting you more, you begin to wander around the mansion, taking notes inside your head, thinking ways for your escape.
--------------
You gradually felt him asleep beside you. You sighed in relief. The sleeping pills have worked. Now's your chance, you have waited for so long for this moment.
You slowly began to separate his arms around you. Careful not to wake him up. You felt your breath stopped for a moment as he groaned.
"Y/n " brows knit together, calling you in his sleep. Goodness even in his sleep, he probably held you captive too.
You successfully detached his arms , heart beating fast as you hurriedly got up and quietly like a mouse ran through the door , you didn't look back you just closed the door hoping not to make a sound.
You ran downstairs adrenaline rush through your veins. When you see the main door you dash as if your life depends on it, well because it did.
You twist the knob.....Locked. How could you be so stupid, of course he would lock it, especially at night. You tried to break the door but it was useless. You ran through the other direction, you would try to get out of the other doors you always saw when you're wandering around.
"Fuck my life" you cursed, it's not working, this was the 8th door you tried yet you couldn't get out.
"Y/n ! Sweetheart where are you ? ! " You knew that deep voice very well, it's him. How could he have woken up so fast?!
Tears began to form your eyes . Everything's useless now. You started to blame yourself. If only you're strong enough. This wouldn't have happened. But you knew very well you couldn't do anything about it.
He stormed inside the room with the same window you were planning to use as an escape route. You shrieked as he once again, wrapped around you like a snake.
"Baby why are you always running away from me?"
"I-i am sorry, i di-"
"Shh.... there there i forgive you...I love you too much to even get mad at you" he cooed like he was talking to a baby , kissing your hair gently.
"But I sure am fucking pissed about how you lied straight to my damn face when you said you weren't gonna run away baby" he bit your neck hard as you tremble in fear.
He picks you up still squeezing you tight. "Now... let's go to our bedroom and make up for it"
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