#AFTER I REWROTE IT A GOOD FEW TIMES IT'S FINALLY HERE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sadprose-auroras · 7 months

Text

Distraction – Hazel Callahan x reader

Hey, loves! Thank you everyone for all of the love for On Top, I appreciate it so much!! I’m happy to take requests, just send me an ask <3

Content: violence, cursing, kissing.

Summary: Have you ever wanted to be PJ in this scene? Me too! So, I rewrote the final scene as a self-insert. Most dialogue is from the movie.

Please let me know what you think! Word Count: 2.2k

“Oh, now you want a bomb.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Holding your breath, you watched Hazel set up the bomb on the tree across the field. You could only cross your fingers that it would work properly; the last time did not go as expected.

“Hazel, it’s starting!” Annie shouts, as the football team begins to make their way onto the field. Panic setting in, you briefly consider running over to help her out. Suddenly, she’s sprinting over to the group, diving to take cover. You all bow your heads down, grabbing onto whoever is closest, holding your breath. You try not to think about Hazel’s head buried in your shoulder. Now is not the time. After a few moments, you all collectively raise your heads. It didn’t go off.

Everyone begins to talk over each other as Hazel starts fiddling with the remote.

“Maybe turn it on and then back off?”

“Why isn’t it working?”

“Did you set it to 15 minutes this time?”

You remain silent, eyes darting around trying to think of another solution.

“Okay, Plan B!” you say suddenly standing up. “We need to get the cheerleaders to make out with each other!” You begin to stalk over to the cheerleaders performing for the crowd, most of your friends following you. You briefly turn around to notice Josie crouched down looking at something and frown but decide to continue on your mission. You know how much this school fetishizes queer women. This has to work.

You all begin yelling, making cruse gestures.

“Guys, kiss each other!”

“Make out with each other!” Hazel shouts from the stands. Even your best friend saying the words ‘make out’ makes your knees weak. Despite the adrenaline of the situation, you still feel it. You feel every effect she has on you, always. The too-enthusiastic announcer comes over the loudspeaker, so loud it shakes the ground.

“HIDE YOUR CHILDREN, HERE COMES HUNTINGTON!”

Oh shit.

The yellow-clad team begins their entrance, and the crowd goes absolutely wild. The sense of dread that was gnawing at your stomach begins to grow. You have to do something. Now.

PJ nudges your side, giving you a knowing look. You furrow your brows. You were close, but you couldn’t read your friend’s mind.

“Go kiss her,” she says impatiently.

“Who?” you ask, your heart rate picking up.

“Oh my god, just do it! People will watch, trust me. Go, go!” You swallow heavily, your gaze meeting Hazel’s. Somehow, she understands exactly what your panicked, questioning eyes are asking. She gives the slightest nod. Blood rushing to your ears with nerves, you gather all the courage you have to walk over to her, pushing past some people in the crowd. You don’t look away from each other for a second.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she says, a smile ghosting her lips. You slot your lips together gently, hands finding the sides of her face, hers settling on your waist. The feeling makes your head spin. It takes a few moments for you to find a rhythm, awkwardly bumping noses and hitting teeth a couple of times. Once you do though, desire spreads from the pit of your stomach to your entire body. You had no idea kissing could feel this good.

You’re vaguely aware of people shouting, “look!” clapping and looking at the two of you. Which is what you wanted, of course. It’s the only reason you were doing this in the first place… right? And yet, you didn’t care. About saving the football players, about being a distraction, about anything else. It truly felt like time was suspended and you were the only two people in the world.

As the kiss deepened, you moved closer, bodies pressing against one another. You can feel the coolness of Hazel’s rings on your skin as she thumbs at your hips, your shirt riding up. Just as you were thinking that you could do this forever, an announcement over the loudspeaker brought you back to reality.

“CAN EVERYBODY STOP LOOKING AT THE DYKE PARADE? WHO DO I HAVE TO BLOW TO GET THIS GAME STARTED ALREADY?”

You pull apart quickly, in sync as always, as Hazel’s big blue eyes bore into yours. You touch your lips, which are still tingling, as she rubs the back of her neck which she always does when she feels nervous.

You both rush down to rejoin the others, as they were all frantic about what you were going to do now.

“You guys kissed! With tongue!” Sylvie says, apparently very excited about it. You make eye contact with Hazel as she smirks, your stomach doing a little flip, before looking away.

“Yeah, and we could do it again, if necessary, I mean-if we need another distraction, y’know like I really feel like it worked…” Hazel trails off.

“It certainly worked for me,” you murmur, before you can think about what you’re saying.

“What?” Hazel asks. You open your mouth as if to answer, absolutely mortified, when Josie runs up to you all in a panic. You weirdly find yourself grateful for the distraction, albeit news of the life-threatening situation.

“Look, I found empty barrels of pineapple juice, they’re going to poison Jeff! Where the fuck could it be?” she says frantically, eyes wide. You all look at each other, realisation setting in.

“What if it’s in their mouths, and they’re going to swish it around, and then spit it out midgame?” PJ asks, and you bite back a laugh. You loved her, but sometimes she made no sense.

“I don’t think-“ you begin to say, when Hazel speaks up.

“I hate to say it, but it might have something to do with their semen,” she says, sounding genuinely concerned.

“No, it wouldn’t, what is wrong with you?” you ask, baffled but amused. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Annie moving away from the group, looking out onto the field. You follow her gaze, realisation settling in at the same time.

“They’re gonna spray the field, we’re gonna have to run!” Annie shouts. You take off after her, muttering “oh god, oh shit, fuck fuck fuck, I have a stitch,” under your breath.

“It’s okay, we’ve got this,” Hazel says, voice surprisingly even despite how fast you were all running. You turn your head briefly to smile gratefully at her.

“Yeah, we do.”

“PJ, cover the sprinklers!” Josie yells, picking up Jeff, quite literally hoisting him over her shoulder and starting to run off the field. You were impressed at her strength. As if in slow motion, Huntington began moving towards you in formation. You took a deep breath, turning around to look at your group of friends. Isabel, Brittany and Stella Rebecca appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and you smiled to yourself. Huntington let out a scream in unison, and you all responded by doing the same. It was cathartic, quite frankly.

The next few moments were a blur. As the two groups came together, people paired off to fight each other. One particularly large football player came at you with his arms outstretched as if to push you over, but you dodged out of the way, then swung your elbow at the back of his head with a satisfying crack. He stumbles, coming at you with a raised fist, but he’s too slow. You duck as he misses, then, with all of your strength, you kick out your leg at his knees, knocking him over, hitting his head hard on the ground in the process.

You take the opportunity to glance around and notice that you’re actually winning. There are several Huntington players sprawled on the ground, unconscious, while all of your friends remained upright. (Albeit, covered in blood, but you were trying to be positive)

You scan to look for Hazel, and notice her holding a football helmet over her head, swinging it down on a Huntington player who is choking Tim. The guy rolls off him, and Tim coughs and stands up. You want to rush over to her, grab her, hold her, ask if she’s okay, protect her, before you’re suddenly tackled roughly to the ground by somebody behind you. You scream, try and scramble out of his grip, using your knees and legs to kick out, arms pushing at him, but nothing. He brings his fist down in the centre of your face, and you cry out. The pain is like nothing you’ve experienced. You lock eyes, and the wildness in the man’s eyes makes your heart sink. He wasn’t going to stop for anything.

Just as your life begins to flash behind your eyes, you hear Hazel yell your name, and she brings down the helmet with force on his head. You push him off you, as he lays there unconscious. You look up to Hazel in shock, panting heavily. Her eye is swollen red, blood splattered on her shirt, her hair is mused, and the stadium light just behind her head is casting a glow around her not dissimilar to a halo.

“Are you okay?” she asks, stretching her arm out to help you up. You take it, standing up with a grunt.

“I-yeah- th-thank you.” You notice you’re still holding hands, and drop it, both of you chuckling awkwardly. The brief respite from the dreaded feeling doesn’t last long when you notice a player twice Hazel’s size coming up behind her menacingly.

“Watch out!” You scream, grabbing her shoulders and moving her to the side as she stumbles slightly. Mustering everything you have, you roundhouse kick him with a yell of effort, aiming for his head but getting him in the neck instead. It doesn’t matter though, as he falls to the ground with a thud. Hazel comes up and punches him square in the face, leaving him unconscious.

“Thank you,” she says between heavy breaths, holding onto her fist in pain. You try not to think about how attractive her hands are covered in cuts and bruises.

“Don’t mention it,” you respond, wiping some blood that is dripping out of your nose. You look around, and can’t see any Huntington players left, instead your friends moving around the bodies on the ground, blood covering their clothes and faces.

“Did we do it?” you vaguely ask. Before anyone can answer you, you notice one last player coming up behind PJ who is on her knees on the ground.

“PJ, look out!” you all shout in unison as he moves towards her. Suddenly, he is knocked heavily onto the ground. Josie had come up behind him, swinging a baseball bat. For a few moments, nobody moves. Nobody speaks. You all look at each other, taking in each other’s appearances. You lock eyes with Hazel, breath catching in your throat. The entire crowd is completely still, mouths hanging open. A hissing sound begins, and the sprinklers begin spraying a liquid over the field.

The first person to speak is Tim.

“It’s pineapple juice! Turn it off!” he yells. With a squeak, they stop. Slowly, the crowd begins to clap, increasingly getting louder and louder. Soon, the cheering is deafening.

“Yes, this is the viking way!” Tim yells. You finally allow yourself to let out a breath. The group begins to celebrate, hugging each other. You give PJ a big hug, pulling away to notice Josie and Isabel kissing in the middle of everything. You look at each other and laugh in disbelief.

“Love that for them,” she says, and you nod. PJ moves away to hug somebody else, when you make eye contact with Hazel. You both glance over to Josie and Isabel, then back to each other. She smiled shyly, and your cheeks burn as you look down, unable to help from giggling to yourself. You walk over to Hazel, and you wrap your arms around each other. You let out a shaky breath, holding onto her tightly. When you pull away from each other, you’re not sure what to say.

“I-uh-“ you begin, then chuckle awkwardly.

“I meant it when I said we could kiss again,” she says, her hands in her pockets as she shuffles back and forth on her feet, looking up at you beneath her lashes. Your heart quite literally skips a beat.

In response, you move closer to her yet again, tilting her head up with your fingers on her chin.

“Is this going to ruin the friendship?” you ask quietly. Hazel barely gets her next words out before your lips meet.

“I don’t care.”

Your eyes flutter closed, exhaling through your nose as your lips move together in sync. This time, you know exactly how to kiss one another. You briefly wonder how many girls Hazel had kissed to be this good at it.

“Oh my god,” you murmur against her lips, giving her one last soft kiss.

“I know,” Hazel says, smiling in the way that she does that makes your insides twist in the best way possible.

“Um, so, I have a really important question,” you say cheekily, twirling a piece of Hazel’s hair in your finger.

“Yeah?” she asks, frowning.

“Why the fuck do you know how to build a bomb?” Hazel immediately laughs. As if right on cue, you hear a boom. You whip your head around, gasping to see the tree on fire.

“I still think we were a better distraction,” Hazel murmurs, not answering your question, before she leaves a soft kiss on your neck. You sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling.

#bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms fanfic

1K notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Something to Fight For (Series) Part 18 Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: 18+ THIS CHAPTER'S TRIGGER WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Drug Addiction, Mentions of Death A/N: I rewrote this fucking chapter about 8 times. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. It was a real hard one to write, ya'll. A lot of my own shit is mixed up in there with the story. MC is part me after all (and part all of you). So it was hard. Harder than I think I expected it to be. So I dunno how it ended up. Couldn't re-read it too much. I really need your reviews on this one folks. It's real important to me, 'specially now. I need to know how you feel, the good and the bad. I gotta get this right.

Story Masterlist HERE

You're overcome.

There's no other word for it. You've been sobbing in your shower for the last hour. After running from the barn, taking a taxi home and bursting into your suite you immediately fell to your knees, the warm water pelting down onto your back.

It's as close to being held, at being soothed that you can manage right now.

You can’t stop replaying tonight’s events. The song Joel chose. The one of longing and deep yearning.

"She may be the reason I survive

The why and wherefore I'm alive

The one I'll care for through the rough and ready years"

But also of a love gone by. A regret.

"She may be the face I can't forget

A trace of pleasure or regret"

Is that how he views you? A love gone by?

Of course he does.

Paul's engagement ring is in the velvet box it came in. It's being returned tomorrow. You'd have done it tonight if it weren't so late.

You need to end things. It's the only way forward. No matter what, no matter if Joel is in love with Tess, no matter if you'll never be with him, you *can't be with Paul.

You don't love Paul. It's obvious to everyone including yourself. It's been obvious for so long. You've wasted so much fucking time and energy on him.

You think of all the boxes packed here, the ones you were going to move to Leander. You think of how strange and sad it is that your whole life can be put into less than twenty cardboard boxes.

And even though Joel can't be yours and even though that hurts more than words can begin to say, you are so fucking grateful for him. You are so grateful you met Joel Miller because he's shown you what love is. True, caring love.

Even if it's not yours to keep.

You will never forget the way he looked singing tonight. The goodbye song from his heart to yours. You'd felt it. The bittersweet finality of your time.

More tears are coming.

"I love him," you say to the tile in front of you. You need to hear the words spoken out loud in the universe, even if it's hidden in the fall of the shower and heard only by you. "I love Joel."

You need to see Joel. You need him to hold you. Need his calming presence. You need to wrap your arms around him and press your face into his neck and just feel breathe that sweet, spicy scent of home.

He's not yours.

You don't get to see Joel. You don't get to have him. He's Tess'. You can't be his friend, you want him too much. So what does that leave?

That leaves you replaced and alone.

You pull yourself from the shower, shivering as you towel off, drying your hair the best you can. You go to your dresser and pull out one of the few remaining pieces of clothing there.

Joel's shirt.

You've washed it so it doesn't smell like him anymore. Doesn't smell like the laundry detergent he uses or that wood shavings scent he sometimes carries. But when you put it on it feels like he's there in some small way. You pull it on over your sleep shorts hiccupping a soft cry.

You remember so long ago, standing in Joel’s den as you pondered if he just played guitar or if he sang as well.

“S’weird how something can make you feel so good and then outta nowhere become the pain”

That’s how it feels now. Joel, the thing that makes you feel good has also become the pain. The wedding is tomorrow. You need to collect yourself by then. You'll see Joel and you need to be controlled. You need to be okay. You need to not ruin this for him.

Because you do love Joel. You love him in a way you never expected to love or be loved. You love him so much that you are determined to make his life better. Determined that you will not take away what he has carved out for himself.

You crawl under the covers, your face buried in the pillow.

"I l-love Joel," you whisper it again into the pillow only now it's broken by sobs. You curl up under the covers, your body trembling. "I love him I love him."

You feel lost. So hopelessly lost.

And then the phone rings.

///

It's late in the Miller house. Quiet. Sarah's been asleep for hours thanks to the sugar crash Bill's cupcakes provided.

Tommy's asleep in the basement apartment, exhausted from the evenings festivities and anticipating a long day tomorrow.

Or, as Joel glances over at the bright neon numbers of his digital clock, later today.

He's laying in bed, one arm behind his head, one hand over his sternum as he stares at the ceiling. In this pose he feels every breath in, every breath out. The studying rhythm bringing him peace. It's impossible to shake the image of you free from his mind.

He'd done it out of love for you. Out of a need for you to know how much you'd changed him. Changed his heart, his outlook, even his fucking idea on the concept of romantic love.

But the look on your face? The way it had fallen before you had dashed out?

Sarah had been bouncing up and down in her seat when he finished his performance, hugging him tightly and throwing things at him as he tried to contain his disappointment ("Daddy you sing so pretty!" And "Daddy will you teach me guitar?") Everyone was clapping him on the back, telling him it was wonderful, so romantic, that Tommy and Maria loved it.

He refused to let his eyes search for you, knowing you were gone. He refused to let his heart believe that you'd come back.

Joel knows he has to stay away from you.

Knows that singing tonight was a terrible idea because not only did he make it so obvious to everyone that he’s so deeply in love with you, but he also made you cry.

Watching your face crumple, watching the way your eyes fell to the ground at the last string. He’d thought you’d be happy singing, Maria had said how often you’d felt happy when you did. But that wasn’t happiness he saw tonight. It was pain.

Joel doesn’t know what to do. He feels so lost.

And then the phone rings.

///

"Joel, I need you."

Four little words over the phone at 2 am.

Four little words that have Joel stumbling out of bed, murmuring he'll be there before he's pulling on his jeans and a t-shirt.

He's half asleep, his mind whirring. He goes to the basement, rapping on the door. An equally tired Tommy answers, blinking in the light.

"She- I gotta go," Joel tries to explain in a rush. "I'll explain later. Can you come watch Sarah?"

Tommy gives a few bleary eyed blinks before nodding and following his brother up the steps.

Tommy settles himself on the sofa as Joel runs out the door. And all the younger Miller can think before he falls asleep is:

Finally.

///

Joel's shoulders nearly take up the doorframe. You notice this when the rap of his knuckles pulls you sniffling from the sofa and you open the door to him.

His eyes are sleepy, but wide. His hair is tousled from sleep and you can see the indent of his pillow faint in his left cheek. He scans your face, concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry," you say as soon as Joel takes a step towards you. "I never should have called so late. I’m so so sorry, Joel."

"Just let me in," Joel insists, his hand coming to go to your cheek and then dropping. He doesn’t want to overstep. "Tell me what happened."

You try to make the words come out; you force them crackling and trembling out into the world.

"I don't want... I don't want to go back."

Joel doesn't have any context, but that doesn't stop him from rushing in. He closes the door behind him gently before bringing you into his arms. Your forehead drops against his sternum as he does this, your tears warm and free flowing.

As he rubs a soothing hand along your spine he realizes you're wearing his t-shirt again. For some reason this small thing makes Joel's eyes wet.

You're so warm in his arms, trembling against him as you hold in sobs. He wants to kiss away the tears rolling down your cheeks. He wants to carry you to bed and strip every bad memory and experience from you with his mouth and body.

That's not what she needs right now. She needs a friend.

He takes your hand in his, leading you to the sofa. A place where you can talk. The fireplace is on, bathing you in a warm flickering glow that makes his breathing hitch when he glances over at you.

Your eyes are puffy, your nose red and he thinks you might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He can't help himself but reach for you, bringing you to his lap as he sits. There's nothing sexual about it, just the need to hold you close, to make you feel safe there. Your arms wrap around his neck and he rocks you, his arms banding around your waist.

"Honey," Joel whispers into the crook of your neck. "What's wrong?"

Honey.

You melt into him just as easily as the word. This was a terrible idea. What had you been thinking? How could you ask Joel here?

Because of the song, your traitorous heart cries. Because you love him! Because his face is the first one you want to see!

You hold him tightly to you, unable to break from him just yet. Unable to tell him the awful ugliness. Instead your mind drifts to the rehearsal dinner. Your hand plays with the fabric of Joel's shirt, twisting it under your fingers.

"Joel . . . The song."

Immediately he tenses and you can't see his face, but you can imagine it. Eyes nervous, mouth hooked slightly to the side. The same way he’d held his face that night in his den, your hand around a glass of soda.

"Maybe one day we'll have reason to make music again.”

Joel smiles softly around his glass. "Maybe."

"Did you like it?" he murmurs into your hair. You can't help but hold him tighter, your eyes filling. He sounds so unsure of himself, so worried about what you’ll say.

"Yeah, I loved it. It was beautiful."

You feel him physically relax in your arms at this admission. The tension, the uncertainty is drained from him. You force yourself not to tilt your face to his, not to search for his mouth with yours.

"I thought you didn't play anymore,” you tell his shoulder.

"I don't. One time performance I guess. Shoulda charged for tickets."

There, the humor you both needed to break the intense spell that weaves itself when you're in Joel's arms. You're thankful to him for that. Now you can pull back, still seated in his lap, but in control of yourself.

"I hope you keep playing forever."

Joel smiles wistfully at you, nodding. You let his dark eyes search your face. You let his hand cup your cheek, his wide thumb brushing away the tears there.

"I never told you about why I went back to Chicago," you sniffle. "Why I didn't call."

"You don't have to tell me," Joel insists. "It doesn't change why I'm here. I'll stay here all night just holdin' you if it's what you need."

He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want you upset because of him. This time in Chicago, the separation, it feels like an ugly part of your shared history that he just wants you both to forget.

"No, I want to tell you," you say in a sorrowful voice. "You deserve to know everything."

Joel nods and he wants to keep you there in his lap. But you shuffle back from him, sitting across from him on the sofa. It takes several minutes of staring into the flames of the fire before you feel you can begin.

"My dad has been in and outta the hospital a lot," you explain, looking at your hands in your lap. "It's because he's waiting for a liver transplant."

Joel is shocked. The way you spoke of Chicago, of your family, he'd assumed your father was dead.

"The thing is," you continue, unaware of his shock. "He can't get one unless he stops using and, uh, he won't."

"Using?" Joel is still taken aback by the revelation, not thinking clearly.

"Coke and heroin mostly," you say with a wince. "He's a drug addict."

Your father has been a junkie for most of your life.

And it's in part because you exist.

The same year you were born he'd gone to a party without your mom. She was tired, still breastfeeding you and encouraged him to go out and have some fun.

He did.

The kind of fun that had started as a party drug passed around and ended with him burning through the family savings and growing gaunt in the coming years. The kind of fun that had him doing eight balls during your soccer games and shooting up on your graduation day.

You were four when he first went into rehab at the insistence of your mother. A few weeks before your fifth birthday he'd come home sober and ready to change his life back around. You hadn't really understood what was happening. You'd just been so happy to be a family again.

That photo on your desk, the one the flood destroyed, the one that meant so much to you is from the only birthday party of yours that your father ever attended sober.

In the passing years he turned to drugs again but he hid it well from you and your mother. You never knew the severity of it until you turned fifteen.

Until you came home one day from your part time job at the Chicago humane shelter to find him covered in piss and his own vomit and barely responsive.

He died on his way to the hospital, a full forty two seconds he was clinically dead. Until they revived him and he sputtered back to life. You remember all of this because it was you in the ambulance with him.

Your mother was at work, unreachable. Your dad's sporadic unemployment meant she worked two jobs.

So it was a fifteen year old you with tears running down her cheeks that watched this unfold, completely terrified.

You were sixteen when he got out of rehab for the second time and promised his life was changed forever. He and your mother had almost two years of no fighting - a change of pace for you who had grown up to their constant shouting matches.

You were eighteen when he relapsed at a friend's house party. Twenty two and twenty five when he went back to the various rehabs that your mother always paid for in more ways than one.

And then he just stopped trying in the coming years. Still using, but not enough for your sweet mother to kick him out.

It's like he's infected by some insidious being inside him. A forever hungry thing that takes and takes, warping your once sweet father into something subhuman. A being that is frighteningly underweight, hollowing his cheeks and making his eyes bulbous in his face. He isn't your father anymore, not really.

But he is. That's the worst part.

Because if he wasn't your Dad you could hate him.

You tell Joel all of this, it spills from you like a stream and he sits across from you, nodding and never speaking. When your voice hitches or the tears begin fresh he instinctively moves towards you on the sofa, stopped only by your raised palm. You need to get all of this out and if he holds you, you never will.

"That night you left, like, two hours later my mom called me to tell me that my dad had a really bad seizure," You shake your head, wanting to stop the memory. "And she sounded so scared on the phone and I just had to get back. I had to get there, back home to help. I was on autopilot."

Joel recalls the hollow look in your eyes when he went to see you that day.

"I know you came to see me but I don't even remember it," you tell Joel. "All I could think of was that I fucked up, that I should have been there in Chicago with my mom."

Joel is stiff, watching you without speaking.

"And I got home and it was just as awful as I thought it would be." You start to shudder at the memory. "My dad could barely talk. And when he did all he wanted to do was blame me for leaving. Telling me I was selfish for leaving my mom and him. Telling me that without me around to help pay for things that there was more pressure on him and my mom to afford their place."

You break off only to hold in a sob, breathing deeply and continuing.

"And he was right, you know. Coming to Austin for school was so selfish of me. I could've just as easily gone to school back in Chicago." A look of disgust crosses your features as you talk now to yourself. "So fucking selfish."

"No," Joel's voice is quiet but firm. "That's not true."

You're ignoring him though, so caught up in your own devastation. Your eyes are shut tightly and your head is giving short jerks.

"I just run from everything, Joel. I ran from Chicago and I ran to Austin because I thought that if I kept running far away enough that, that his ugliness could never touch me. But it lives in me, Joel. That ugliness is in me forever."

Joel's eyes have grown glassy, even now he remains sitting there looking at you with unending patience and his hands twitching to hold you.

"I stayed there for a month,” you continue, not even aware that your head is tilted so low Joel has to lean forward to hear. “A month of my dad telling me I was selfish. A month of my mom trying to tell me that it's just his disease talking. A month of seeing your name come up on my phone and wanting so badly to talk to you but just thinking about how horrible I was and how you and Sarah deserved better."

You force yourself to breathe between sentences, your air hitching in your chest. Joel is staring at you, his eyes swimming over your features. Horrible? You?

"So when I eventually got back to Austin I was just so fucking sad, Joel. So tired. I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't want to be around anyone. Not you, not Sarah. I couldn't do that to you guys." You swipe at your eyes with the wrist of your sweater. "I should have called you and seen you but I was so selfish only thinking about me and how I felt.

Your eyes jerk open when you feel the warmth of Joel's hand on yours. He's leaning across the sofa, his wide hand placed gently over yours. A thumb gently strokes your knuckles.

"No," Joel breathes in a voice of gentle warmth. "Never selfish. Never. It was me that fucked up."

"No."

"Yes," Joel tells you and you can see the way his dark eyes are damp. "You are the least selfish person I've ever met."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, your chin wobbling. "You know why I called you tonight? Because my mom just called to beg me to come home again. Apparently my dad's saying that if I move back to Chicago that he'll go to treatment again. That he'll stop using. That he'll be able to get the transplant."

Joel's eyes widen but he remains silent.

"And I don't want to go," you say, lips trembling. "I don't want to go back there. I don't want to fucking go even if it would mean helping because I'm a horrible, selfish cunt."

The sobs that burst out of you are pure anguish that you muffle in a pillow to keep Maria from hearing all those floors above. Joel is physically holding himself back, dying to embrace you but giving you your space.

All he can do is stroke your head, desperate to convey all of his care and affection for you through the gesture.

"He was always promising he was going to get clean," you say hollowly, moving away from the pillow and Joel's touch. "And my mom, she just, she just kept carrying on like there was hope. But there is no hope. Just this endless, bleak, fucking pain."

Your eyes meet his and you're overcome. You stand abruptly, feeling the scrutiny of Joel as sharply as if he were stabbing you.

"Joel, just go. I'm sorry I called. This was a terrible idea to have you come here. This isn't your problem. I'm so fucking sorry."

Joel stands and for a moment you think he's going to leave. You think that might be a relief because you're feeling too vulnerable, too exposed.

You aren't expecting Joel to quietly close the distance between your bodies and wordlessly pull you into his arms. You're shocked more however at how willingly you allow this, how easy it is to fall back into his embrace. To tangle your arms around his neck and hold him as tightly as you can. He's warm against you, his cheek resting on the top of your head as you press your face to his shoulder.

"I hate him. I hate what he put my mom and me through." Your chin is trembling as you blink back the onslaught of more tears. "And I hate that I love him so much because he's my fucking dad."

Your hands are gripping Joel around the middle as he holds you, his broad shoulders curling, his arms tightening.

"I hate that I just want him to die," you cry through clenched teeth. "To stop holding on. To bring my mother some fucking peace."

More tears come.

Joel thinks of James and the cocaine and how upset you'd been. He'd thought you were justified in the way you'd acted, the heated punch across James slimy face for treating you so rudely. But now he realizes why you'd been shamed, so terrified of your own fury.

"And I hate that I'm just like him."

You break off as Joel's large hand is cupping the back of your head, and he's gently swaying you, the way a mother would a newborn.

"It's okay," Joel murmurs in your hair. "I've got you. I've got you."

You don't know why, but this quiet utterance from him is that breaks you, and the wall against him that you've built so high for yourself collapses. Heavy sobs break free from you, stark mournful things that you muffle in Joel's shoulder. They make your body jerk, causing Joel to hold you tighter against him.

"Shhh," Joel soothes. "Just breathe, baby. Slowly, like me."

He takes a few steadying breaths, urging you to match the slow pace. After a few shuddering exhales you do so, your breathing staggering into a steady, even rhythm.

"Good," Joel whispers. "Good."

"I'm just like him," you again whisper the words you've only ever thought into Joel's collar. "I'm selfish and horrible and -"

"You're nothing like that," Joel assures you, pulling you back so that he can look into your eyes when he tells you this. "Not at all."

"Really? What do you call what we did in your kitchen?" You scoff. "Knowing that we were with other people? Or how about when you pushed me up against that wall over there?"

Joel is silent, only his eyes move around your face while the rest of him is like a statue. He doesn't need to look at the wall to know what you're talking about.

"I can't stop wanting you," you say with a look of torment in your eyes. "I can't fucking stop, Joel. I try and I try and I can't. I'm just like my dad. I want what I shouldn't. I want what's only going to hurt other people and hurt myself."

"Honey-"

"I can't stop," you repeat weakly, trying to step back from him. "So I have to stay away."

Joel hands are on either side of your face again and he's peppering your face with soft kisses and everything in you wants to rejoice because Joel is here and he's holding you.

"Don't stay away from me," Joel's tells you as he rains compassion down on you. "Never."

You can't keep him. He's not yours.

Both of you are being incredibly selfish right now. Tess is probably at home right now taking care of Sarah and Daniel. Tess who was made to be a mother. Tess who understands Joel. What is wrong with you?

Selfish.

Horrible.

"Stop, Joel," you say twisting from him, out of his grip. "I told you all of this so that you can understand why I won't be around as much. But I'll call Sarah every other night, if she still wants to speak to me. And when I come back for visits I'll take her to the movies and-"

It's like Joel is only just now noticing all the moving boxes. He's glancing around as you talk, his eyes widening.

"You're not actually thinking of moving back to Chicago," Joel interrupts in a horrified voice. "You can't be."

"Just for a few months, just until he's settled in rehab-"

"No," Joel is wild-eyed shaking his head, his eyebrows saddling. "You can’t. You just. . . You can’t do this. You can’t sacrifice everything. Your work - that sanctuary. You won’t come back. I know you, you’ll feel like you have to take care of your dad. You’ll stay there."

"It's complicated-"

"It's not."

"Joel, my dad needs me."

"That was a horrible thing to lay on your shoulders," Joel says and he looks furious and sad all at once. "And I'm sorry for your parents, I really am, but no. You can't go. You can't do this to yourself."

"I have to go," you tell Joel. You falter, pulling back from him, needing to be out of his orbit.

Joel stands there as you pull back from him, looking so out of place in your suite with its low ceilings, the space almost emptied of furniture. He’s like this beam you can’t look away from, this tall broad angel with eyes that look at you as if you’re actually worth something.

He breaks off, uttering a pained "Jesus Christ" and you're sure he's going to yell at you about Paul just like Maria did.

You’re sure he’ll run from the room shouting that you’re selfish. Positive that he’ll tell you that you’re not worth all this hassle.

Instead Joel does something you're not expecting.

He crosses the room over to you and slips to his knees, holding you around the middle before he presses his forehead gently against your abdomen. It shocks you, this action and this pose from him. He sits like this in silence for several minutes, holding you, breathing against you in heavy shudders. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, glancing down at him in confusion.

"I'm so sorry," he finally whispers, a little murmur against you. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"I didn't need you to be," you insist, your hand going to his neck, urging his face up to look at you. He won't move his face from where it is lodged against your stomach. He can’t.

"But I should have been," Joel insists, his voice a low rasp.

“It was so long ago.”

Almost six months since the awful incident. And you don’t carry it with you, not like Joel apparently has because now his head tilts back from your abdomen.

"I never should have walked away that day. I should have stayed. If I had none of this Tess and Paul shit would have happened. I would’ve gone back with you to Chicago." Joel's voice sounds thick with escaping emotion. "I ruined us."

His beautiful eyes open and you watch as tears slip down his cheek. You suppose that's what makes you freeze up, your heart sinking. You've never seen Joel cry before and the sight is as shocking as it is heartbreaking.

"Forgive me," he whispers brokenly. "Please."

You can see the anguish in his features and realize he's been living in it since you got back. This hellish landscape of grief and regret. He's been wearing it like armor weighing him down.

"Nothing to forgive," you tell him honestly, your knuckles trailing down his cheek to wipe the tears away. "Joel it was never a matter of fault. It was just how things happened."

His head drops against your stomach again and you can feel his strong shoulders begin to quake jerkily.

"I was fucking weak."

"You were human," you reply, rubbing at his shoulders, wanting to soothe him as much as he wants to soothe you. "You couldn't have known."

"I just left you there, all hollow and quiet and I walked away," Joel's voice is ragged. "I should have stayed. That's what you do when you love someone."

Love.

It hits you with a strong, visceral acuity. Starting in your rib cage and then spreading outward, causing everything in your body to wake up. It makes you breathless to hear it, though you've long suspected it, secretly hoped for it.

"Joel-"

"I'll never stop being sorry for it," Joel tells you simply, his face tilting up to look into yours. "Never."

Without thinking your hand is gently carding through his tousled curls. His eyes shutter closed as he leans into your hands. The moment is overwhelming in austerity and you need to break it.

"Not even if I asked nicely?" you say with a teasing lilt to your voice.

His eyes open and he gives you a small, watery smile before he stands. He towers over you again, taking your face in his wide hands and now it’s you leaning into his touch.

"I'd do anything you asked."

And all at once you know he's going to kiss you and that you want him to.

He tilts his head forward and lips move over yours so gently that you sigh into his mouth. Your entire body sags towards him and instead of the fervent kisses from not that long ago, this kiss is different. It’s soft and sweet and unhurried. His soft lips move over yours, taking time to memorize how your pliant mouth moves under his, the way you inhale softly when you break apart, his wide hands still cupping your face.

Tess.

Marmalade.

Selfish.

"I'm sorry I called," you sniff, tilting your face from him. "I never should have done that. You should go, Joel."

"You want me to go?" Joel's voice is a low aching sound. You can't look at him. You can't look into those intense, beautiful eyes of his so instead you face away from him.

"Yes."

You feel yourself floundering, that unmistakable voice in your head screaming to run. Run from the conflict. Run from your feelings.

Run. Run.

"You're lyin'," Joel insists.

"I'm not."

You feel his strong fingers on either side of your chin, dragging your face to meet his. But still your eyes remain closed.

"Look at me."

You shake your head the best that you can in his grip.

"I can't have you here, Joel. I'm sorry I called you, it was wrong.”

Joel's hand is flying to slide around the back of your neck. "Stop."

"You’re with Tess," you insist with a shake of your head, pulling back from his sweet touch. "She's perfect for you. She'll make the best mom to Sarah. It makes sense, Joel. You have to see that."

"I broke it off with Tess," Joel bites off. “I don’t want Tess.”

Your eyes fly open."What?"

"How could I keep dating her? I knew I couldn't stop wanting you. I never will." Joel feels his neck growing warm. "And she told me what she asked you to do, to stay away from Sarah."

You nod brokenly, feeling the tears gathering just at the memory compounded by this new guilt.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I just want what's best for you and Sarah. A chance at a real family."

You've ruined this for him. Joel's chance at a family, something for himself. Something for his own. Selfish like your dad.

"Go back to Tess, Joel. Tell her it was a mistake."

"I'm not gonna do that."

"You have to, Joel. She wants you."

“And you don’t?”

It hangs there, the truth between you. If you admit it, it’s over. Any pretense you would have carried is gone. He’ll choose you because of this unknowable, untenable connection. But you’re not good for him. You’re not the kind of woman Joel Miller needs. You’ll take and take from him, leaving him with nothing in the end. It’s how your father operates, and you are your father’s daughter. Your engagement isn't even officially off. You're moving to Chicago. So what? You'll confess you love Joel? Make him feel compelled to follow you to Chicago? And what about Sarah? You're going to disrupt her life too? How is that not the most selfish thing in the world?

“No.”

Saying it physically hurts.

You love Joel. You love this man in front of you. And it’s precisely that love that sends you pushing back from him. But you’re stopped by his hand on the back of your neck again, holding you there.

"Don't," Joel says through clenched teeth."Don't stand there and lie to me of all people. You wanna lie to yourself? Fine, but not to me. Never to me. I don’t deserve it."

It is. It is a fucking lie.

"Tell me the truth," Joel urges gently, pleading. "Tell me to my face that you don't want me as much as I want you.”

You try to form the words that tell him exactly that, but you can't.

They don't exist.

Joel nods in understanding, his warm eyes even warmer. But he can see the fear in your expression, the panic.

"Just let me take care of you tonight," Joel whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Please."

You're trembling against his palm, tears coating your lashes. "Okay."

Joel seems surprised by your easy acceptance but he nods, reaching down to take your hand in his.

"Let's go to bed."

You follow him without question to the bed. He shrugs off his jacket, watching you watching him. You're eyes are owlish in your face, the tension clear. Joel brings himself up on the bed still dressed in his jeans and shirt. He lays overtop the sheet before bringing it back for you to crawl under.

You hesitate. There is nothing more enticing than the thought of Joel making love to you right now. But it feels wrong, rushed. Too many things going on in your mind.

"I just wanna hold you," Joel explains when he sees your eyes nervously move from him to the bed. "If that's okay?"

Relief floods you and you nod, moving under the covers of your bed. And all the aching loneliness, all the terror of being lost? It’s gone. It’s gone the second you snuggle up against Joel in your bed.

His broad hand moves through your hair gently, moving it back from your flushed face before stroking it in tenderly. He stares at you, barely blinking. You muse that you could have entire conversations like this, just staring into each other's eyes. That perhaps you're having one right now.

His eyes are so soft. How can a man made up of sharp angles and broad planes look at you with eyes so fucking soft?

"How can you look at me like that?" you ask blinking through new tears. "After everything I've told you how can you lie there and look at me like I'm not a piece of shit?"

"Because you're not," Joel replies swiftly. "None of what your dad did is your fault. How could it be?"

"If I was there-"

"He'd still be using," Joel tells you simply. "And he'd have a new thing or person to blame for it."

"Even if that's true," you insist. "I'm his kid. I should go back."

"You're telling me if I told a grown up Sarah she had to move back home to take care of me, even if I'd barely been in her life, even if she had a whole life somewhere else, you'd tell her she was selfish for not doing it?"

Your eyes widen. Sarah. Sweet, genuine Sarah. No, you wouldn't blame her. But that's Sarah.

"She's just a kid-"

"Same age as when your dad started." Joel's eyes are watery. "How come you're so unkind to yourself? Why don't you think you deserve good things?"

"A lifetime of experience," you reply darkly.

///

And for a moment there is sudden clarity for Joel that hits him in such a way he's shocked he never understood it as easily before.

In the job you chose, in the immediately natural way you were with the screaming Daniel, even quicker than you were with his sweet and calm Sarah.

In the way these animals, hurt and abandoned and ignored are so much more than just pitiful creatures that pass along your desk in files.

You see yourself in them.

You see yourself in their haunted eyes and terrible histories. You see it in the plaintive cry of the frustrated Daniel. In this world that turns its back and its ears to them you want desperately to embrace them, to hold them to you and communicate a perfect, unending love for them.

Because no one did that for you.

Your mom tried, Joel is sure of it. But love is hard to share when so much of it is reserved for a husband in constant crisis. When you're a frazzled mother working two jobs to keep your mortgage and your marriage and family together. Love is there of course, but it's not overt. Not like you crave.

The kind of love that Maria gives you without question. The kind of love Joel would give to you every fucking day if you said you wanted him to be yours.

"I know I have no right to ask you to stay or demand anything from you, but, fuck, please don't do this," Joel whispers earnestly. "Don't move back to Chicago."

You're silent.

“If you do you’ll never come back,” Joel murmurs, his voice full of so many emotions it would be impossible to pick just one. “I know you. You’d sacrifice everything for him.”

“I. . . I don’t. . .”

Your eyes are so heavy, almost as heavy as your heart. You’ve shared so much with Joel, brought up so many painful memories it feels like you’ve run a marathon. Your head tilts against the pillow.

"Go to sleep, baby," Joel tells you, holding himself back from kissing you. "I'm here. Just sleep."

When you finally fall asleep Joel continues to look at you. His dark eyes travel the curve of your cheek, takes in the length of your lashes and the way your mouth looks half open in sleep. He memorizes each part of your face knowing that this may be his only chance to do so.

You’re engaged. You still have that connection to your parents in Chicago. There is so much that exists in this world to take you away from him.

He still sees it this way, outside forces wanting to rip you from him, as if he has some claim on you. He doesn't care if Paul gave you a ring. You’re his. You’re his and he has never stopped feeling this way, even though he's tried. He doesn't know he'll ever stop.

He stops himself from kissing your sleeping mouth on more than one occasion during the night, desperate for that contact if this is really the end.

It can't be the end. It can't.

You sigh in your sleep, shuffling closer against him for warmth or for comfort. Joel allows this, his eyes skipping closed at the calm your nearness brings him.

I'll never ask for anything as long as I live. Just let her be mine.

He finally falls asleep with your soft breathing in the crook of his neck

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #smut #dad joel miller #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal

278 notes · View notes

rorywritesjunk · 5 months

Text

And all of my wildest dreams They just end up with you and me

Richie is a pretty boy, yes he is, but so is Buggy.

Rating: PG! It's a soft and silly fic.

Warning: Animal fur. Allergies. Sneezing. Buggy doesn't catch a break.

A/N: Suggested by a lovely Anon! I wrote and rewrote this a few times and then after brushing my dog I was inspired. Have you ever had an allergy attack where you sneeze and can't breathe, and then suddenly you're choking because you inhaled one little something and you think you're dying? Imagine that while reading this. Also I still love Richie so much.

Title comes from "So Good Right Now" by Fall Out Boy.

“Ohh, who’s a pretty boy!” You cooed over Richie, Mohji’s large and (not) so ferocious lion. The beast tamer was feeling a little under the weather and you offered to look after the animal. To some, the lion was scary, murderous, and fierce, but to you he was a soft little kitten who liked it when you ran a brush through his mane and fed him treats. “You are!”

He rolled onto his back for you, purring happily as you ran the brush through his fur, being mindful of any knots or matting. Any time you came upon one, you carefully picked it apart, not wanting to pull on it or hurt the lion. While he was docile towards you at the best of times, you have seen how wide his mouth can open and it wouldn’t take much for him to swallow you whole if he so desired.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You looked up when the captain entered, looking none too thrilled that you were with the large cat. Richie’s bedding had been changed, his food and water dishes cleaned, and now you were brushing out the excess fur. A pile of fur had grown and it almost looked like you had a mini-Richie starting to form.

“Mohji wasn't feeling good so I offered to care for Richie today.” You grinned as you brushed some fur off your clothes. Buggy made a face as the cat hair flew about. And then he sneezed.

“Do you have to brush him?!” He snapped. “That damn fur is getting everywhere!”

“Well, yea.” You chuckled as you looked back at the lion. He was looking up at you with huge doe eyes, demanding more attention. It was a cute sight and reminded you of a certain boyfriend of yours, who was currently glaring at you while sneezing as the fur floated around. “He’s a pretty, pretty boy and he needs to look his best!”

Buggy rubbed his nose and glared at you. He wasn’t pleased you were spending this much time with Richie when you could have been spending it with him. The lion didn’t need you to groom him like this, and he was not a pretty boy, he was a murderous member of the crew.

You looked back at Buggy and grinned. He managed to keep glaring at you while sneezing repeatedly, obviously irritated by all the fur flying about in the air. His eyes and nose were both running, and then he was suddenly coughing from inhaling some of the fur. You probably should take pity on him but you weren’t done with Richie yet.

“Gimme a few more minutes and I’ll be done.” You said, but you weren’t sure he heard you over the coughing and sneezing fit. Oof, maybe you should stop. He didn’t look too good. Sighing, you gave Richie a few ear scritches. “I’ll finish with you later, Richie.”

Carefully, you approached Buggy and grabbed his arm. He tried to pull away from you but now he was gasping a bit as he coughed so much. Maybe he was allergic? Who knew, but you held his arm firm as you started to lead him away from Richie and the cloud of fur.

“Let’s go, pretty boy.” You chuckled. “Let’s get you fresh air.”

Buggy didn’t budge at first, squinting at you as tears streamed down his face from the sneezing and coughing fits. You felt a little bad because he looked like shit now.

“I said let’s go, pretty boy.” You urged as you pulled him along. “Get your silly ass out of here!”

He finally followed after you, feeling his throat clear up just a bit as he got further away from the lion. He took a few deep breaths, trying to inhale fresh, clean air, before he looked at you. “I-I’m a pretty boy?”

To someone else at that moment, probably not. Not only were his eyes red and streaming, but his nose was dripping like a faucet. He was no longer gasping for air, and he wasn’t sneezing as much as before. He looked absolutely miserable.

“Oh!” You didn’t realize what you had said at first. You were so used to calling Richie that affectionate name that it must have slipped out with Buggy, but he was now looking at you, red-eyed and flushed, and well, you didn’t want to upset him. “Yea! Of course.”

Oof, you may have said that little too quickly, but he was clearly brain fogged from the lack of oxygen due to sneezing, and he gave you some goofy smile, and if his face wasn’t covered in a layer of snot, tears, and lion fur, you may have kissed his cheek to help convince him of it.

And admittedly, you did find him pretty, even looking absolutely miserable right in that moment.

“R-Really?” He stammered out, stopping you just before you could get him on deck and out into the fresh, fur-free air. “Pretty?”

Oh, the way his voice asked was so sweet, and you smiled at him and squeezed his gloved hand before bringing it up to your lips, kissing the top of it gently. You pretended not to notice how his eyes watered just a bit but for a different reason now. Tender moments like this were something he still wasn’t used to with a relationship, so you smiled at him and lowered his hand.

“The prettiest boy I know, Buggy.” You assured him. “Now, go wash that pretty face of yours so I can give you a kiss.”

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you

152 notes · View notes

allyeardepression · 3 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic | feb 14 lips | words: 457

hi, so, i’m actually pretty proud of this one. i rewrote it a billion times but i think it’s really good (for my level), so i hope y’all will enjoy it 🥰

Regulus tugged at his boyfriend’s hand, dragging him up the stairs that led to the roof. He told James that he wanted to show him his star, but that wasn’t all - Regulus spent half the day setting up a date for them. There were candles all over the roof, cozy blankets and cushions to sit on, and James’ favourite snacks such as homemade chocolate chip cookies, cream cheese crackers and blueberries. And Regulus felt proud of himself for managing to make it almost entirely without help - he just needed Effie’s hand with the cookies, being too afraid of burning down the whole flat.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Regulus turned to James to kiss him gently before saying “I hope you’re going to like it.”

As he opened the door, James came to an abrupt halt, stunned, his lips parted slightly. Regulus couldn’t decide if the taller man looked in awe or terrified. At the thought of James disliking the whole thing, his anxiety woke up, running freely around his brain, saying stuff like he hates it, he doesn’t want to be here, he’s uncomfortable, he thinks you’re being too much. And, even though he knew it was some made-up shit, that made Regulus feel sick to his stomach.

“Do you like it?” he asked hesitantly, fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper.

At the question James looked over at him. In the matter of seconds he was cradling Regulus’ cheeks with his hands and kissing him breathlessly. And, honestly, who was Regulus to not give into it?

They stood there, the younger man wrapping his arms around James’ shoulders and climbing on his tiptoes, while the other man’s hands slipped down his body to hold onto his hips. The kiss deepened, tongues dancing around each other, teeth biting lips occasionally - it felt like if they broke apart, they might die.

As it turned out after a few long minutes, they did not, in fact, die when they separated. They just lingered close to one another, panting into their mouths. After a moment, Regulus huffed out a breathless laugh.

“So, I take it as a yes” he chuckled, nuzzling James’ nose with his own.

“It, indeed, is a yes. I love it, baby” his boyfriend replied before kissing his forehead.

Regulus finally led James to the sitting area, plopping him down just to feed him blueberries. As he tried to put one in his mouth, James tugged him down, into his lap. He brushed some of the black waves behind his ear, Regulus’ cheeks turning a pretty pink.

“So,” James whispered, looking him in the eyes with so much adoration he thought he could combust right there. “will you show me your star, love?”

#jegulus #starchaser #dead gay wizards #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #marauders #the marauders

117 notes · View notes

wildemaven · 10 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter Six

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4511

Warnings: 18+ Blog; mentions of food and drinks, unwanted touching, self doubt, pining, two dumb dumbs navigating fEeLiNgS, reader has a nickname but has zero descriptive features, fluff, like always please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

A/N: This chapter!! I think it’s just been a week for me, dealing with minimal sleep and a teething babe— I was near giving up on it. But, it’s done! Wrote out a good portion of it and then hated it so I rewrote it and then ending up going in a completely different direction— but I like where it ended up going. Thanks again for all the love and kind words on this series!! Only 4 more chapters to go!! Adding: Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for beta’ing this labor of love and all her support and help as I write this!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

An endless loop of vivid thoughts frequent your weary mind— starting early in the morning and well into the evening.

Dieter, his stupid handsome face and the way he has you falling for him, your brain in a constant flustered state.

You keep mulling over the possibilities of allowing yourself to be vulnerable, open to the idea of something growing between you and Dieter.

Each alternative has its advantages and risks.

Leaning into your feelings and granting Dieter access to the thing you’ve spent years guarding, trusting that he will stand alongside you as you fully open your heart to a chance at a future together.

But what if he doesn’t want the same things as you?? You contemplate if settling for just his friendship is enough, never pursuing the growing connection between you, accepting him in your life but always at an arm's length.

Dieter’s impending departure has you a mess, your growing feelings for him only making it worse.

“Are you still there sweetheart?”

“Yeah— Sorry Mom, I’m still here.” You assured her, finishing up the rest of your makeup as you get yourself ready for the Capri Hotel’s big event.

“You sound so far away. What’s bothering you?”

“Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin Mom. None of it’s really all that bad, just a lot at once I guess.”

“Well, I’m here to listen if you need to get it off your chest.”

Moments like these, you wished she lived closer, missing your kitchen conversations at the end of a long day. No matter how depleted she was after work, she made dinner with a smile and sat for as long as you needed her to, her shoulders always carrying the weight of your heart when needed.

“Just trying to keep it together most days. School has been busy, end of year things have me drained. Then there’s the whole gallery thing, it has me stressed I won’t be ready for the showing. I’ve finally managed to get a chunk of my pieces painted and prepped— I have like 5 more to do. And I’m sad it’s closing, I only have a few classes left there.” You pause for a moment, you hadn’t intended on an emotional dump when you called your Mom, just wanted to check in and say hello. “It’s all good things though, so I don’t even know why it feels overwhelming, I guess I feel like I’m going to let someone down somewhere along the way.”

“Hmm. Well, I know how hard you are on yourself, but I also know how hard you work— especially when it involves all the things you love. You’re going to get through it all! I believe in you.”

Her voice feels like a warm embrace as it drifts through your phone, the stress already feeling like it has lifted a bit with her reassurance.

“So, how are things with your guy? Any new things on that front?”

“Well, he’s not my guy.” Chuckling at her abruptness. “I feel like we’re in a good place now— he feels like a close friend that I’ve known my whole life. And the more time we spend together, the more I—“

“The more you what?”

“I don’t even know, Mom. Like there’s these things he does, I don’t know if he’s just being nice or what, but he does these little things that make me so happy. He brings me coffee in the mornings when he drops his niece off at school, leaves little notes for me on the cups— I save them Mom, I have a stack of these coffee cups in my kitchen.”

You hear a muffled hum, her signal that she’s already preparing her response to what you have to share, but allowing you to continue.

“He came to one of my classes, and you know what he did? He painted a portrait of me— who does that?! And now, we text each other all the time and I can’t stop smiling when his name pops up on my phone, because I can’t stop thinking of him. Then he gave me this cute nickname that makes my insides turn to goo any time he says it and I— I…”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah— I do.”

The air is dry, heat waves dancing across the scorching cement, an array of popular songs blaring from the DJ booth situated on the green lawn adjacent to the hotel’s pool deck.

The re-grand opening celebration of The Capri in full effect.

The hotel had been drawing in plenty of guests after the renovation, rooms booked out regularly, a quintessential tourist destination for the small town. Its mid-century design of wood, natural tones and pops of color paired with the sleek modern aesthetic throughout the hotel’s property was beginning to be recognized by many publications, all looking to showcase the hotel’s unique style in upcoming pieces.

The hotel’s name, big white block letter signage, sits atop the covered entryway. A parked yellow Chevy Deluxe adds to the ambiance of the building’s timeless look.

Giant palm trees and tropical-esque plants in terracotta pots decorate the grounds of the hotel. Small gardens with intimate seating had been strategically placed for optimal usage. A large lawn space in the back was draped in string lighting and had the perfect view of daily sunsets. The pool itself was a perfect backdrop for a day of relaxing, vintage woven lawn chairs and oversized umbrellas lined each side of the large pool surrounded by lush greenery.

Dieter was able to snag a chair early on, perks of knowing the hotel owner, the umbrella shade blocking enough of the sun to make the extremely warm weather bearable.

He’s trying his best to enjoy himself, knowing he’s doing Diem a favor keeping an eye on Wren while she’s running around doing her hotel-party hostess duties, but the growing crowd of guests and invitees feel more overwhelming, reminding him of the elaborate Hollywood parties he’s attended.

Only a few people have stopped to ask for autographs or pictures, slightly surprised there’s still a fan base that has an interest in him these days.

“How come they don’t want me to sign their papers? I know how to write my name too!” Wren, her voice tinged with a pouty tone, says from where she’s lounging on her chair next to him.

“I don’t know, Birdie. Next time, you can sign your name too, seems only fair.”

“Okay. I can draw a heart for them too.”

Wren, satisfied with the compromise, goes back to sipping on her iced lemonade and watching one of her shows on her iPad, zero interest in what's going on around her.

“How’s she doing?” Diem asks as she sits on the edge of the Wren’s chair, placing another lemonade on the small accent table between the two of them.

“She’s good, wanted to take a break from swimming for a bit. You, umm— hear from Poppy yet?”

“Why? You finally going to tell her you’ve got it bad for her??”

Grateful his sunglasses are dark enough to block the eye roll intended for Diem, he glances over to see Wren still absorbed into her show then back to Diem and whispering a low -fuck off- accompanied with a playful middle finger.

“She texted me a bit ago, said she was running late, but would be here soon— Oh! Speak of the devil, look who just arrived. I’m going to go say hi and I’ll send her over so you can tell her how much you’ve missed her.” Diem’s menacing voice earns her another middle finger from Dieter, leaving him to greet you properly.

Dieter catches sight of you weaving through the pack of bodies meandering around the pool, taking in how your face lights up the minute you see Diem welcoming you with a hug, both of you embracing each other as if you hadn'tnd just hung out days prior.

He’s seen you in your casual clothes outside of school before. Usually a pair of favorite jeans and t-shirt, a sundress sprinkled in on warmer days, but something about seeing you in a bathing suit and shorts has his brain short-circuiting almost instantly.

Tilting his head forward, his pointer finger pulling his sunglasses slowly down the bridge of his nose. He’s completely taken aback, mesmerized by you, noting every little detail— your captivating features that make him absolutely weak, every delicate curve so perfectly placed, each flaw you try so hard to hide merely a perfect addition to your allurement.

The second you and Diem turn in his direction, he’s shaken out of his trance, trying to focus on anything to make his blatant staring seem less obvious.

“I see an open chair next to Dieter, do you think he’ll mind if I hang out with them?” You point to the open space next Dieter, who is helping Wren navigate something on her iPad.

Unfortunately, as you say it, you notice a beautiful woman sitting in the lounger you were inquiring about. You try your best to keep the tinge of jealousy concealed, the last thing you want is to draw any sort of attention to your feelings for Dieter at this time.

“Never mind, I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to set my stuff.” There’s a subtle hint of sadness in your eyes, avoiding watching the women openly flirt with him.

“Babe, you good?” Diem sensing the shift in your demeanor instantly. Peering back at Dieter to see the interaction he’s having with the woman, who now has her hand on his arm, caressing it as she tilts her head and openly ogles him— her fake laugh is a dead give away that she only sees Dieter for his Star Status and nothing more.

“Yeah— y-yeah, I’m good.” Forcing a somewhat convincing smile.

“Hey, I’ve got to go check on catering, make sure everything is running on time and then I’m going to grab Wren for her nap— the last thing I need is a 6 year old meltdown. Don’t worry about her, she doesn’t really seem like his type anyways. We’ll catch up in a bit.” Giving you another hug, letting it linger for a minute, then Diem takes off in the direction of the catering truck.

You’re left standing there, feeling exposed and alone among a sea of strangers. Nervously scanning anywhere but in the direction of where Dieter and the woman are clearly flirting. You contemplate what an appropriate amount of time to spend here would be, before slipping out unnoticed.

It reminds of you showing up to a middle school dance, dressed in the new fancy dress you picked out for the special occasion in hopes of seeing the cute boy, who’s name you spent most of the school year scribbling in your notebooks. Only to walk into the dimly lit and poorly decorated gymnasium to see he is with the head cheerleader and they’re both making heart eyes at each in the middle of the dance floor.

Part of you wants to shrink into the shadows of the crowd, ruminate over the signals you read completely wrong this whole time. Dieter was just being nice, friendly— at no fault of his. You blame yourself for thinking he might have some interest in you, reading into the little details and thinking that you were even his type— clearly far from it.

An up tempo song blasts through the speakers, amping the tone of the party up and pulling you out of your brief moment of sulking.

Friends. Just friends. Dieter and you are friends and that has to be enough for you.

You head in the direction of the open bar, hoping an ice cold beverage will help unburden your angsty thoughts.

“We should hang out sometime!” Dieter cringes at the advances this random woman keeps making towards him.

If this wasn’t his sisters hotel, he’d probably wouldn’t feel bad in being harsh and telling this woman to fuck right off. But he doesn’t want to cause a scene, not knowing how she would react to his rejection.

“Umm, I don’t know— I’ve got a lot going on right now.” Let her down easy.

“Oh come on! You’re not doing anything, you just got out of rehab— and they’ve got you trapped in this boring town too. I’m sure we could find something fun to do together. I know a few parties are happening in WeHo coming up, I can make a few calls— get some treats to liven things up.” Her hand still fondling his arm.

He winces at her crass comment, a reminder of why he chose to escape the acrimonious world of Hollywood.

He doesn’t have a single regret about being here in Ojai either, he enjoys its simplicity and is starting to feel like he could see himself here long term.

“Look, I’m sure you're nice and all— but I’m not interested.”

“Okay, well we can do something else then. How about we go back to my room, I’m staying here.” Wiggling her hotel key between her fingers.

She’s clearly not grasping at the obvious hint Dieter is giving her.

“No, I’m not interested in your room or you.” He says politely, grabbing her hand and removing it from his arm.

“What do you mean?!”

“He has a girlfriend, lady!” Wren piped up in Dieter’s defense.

“Wait! You have a kid? And a girlfriend?”

“No— to both things.”

“God, rehab made you so fucking boring.” She scoffed, offended by his sobriety and his lack of interest in her.

“Okay, so what we’re not going to do is that, my niece is right here. You can go now.”

She didn’t hesitate at his request, grabbing her things and walking away— pretending to be unbothered by the rejection.

“Sorry about that Birdie. Some people are just—“

“Weird!”

“Yeah, weird. Hey, Birdie?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you think Poppy is— she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends. So, let’s maybe not call her that anymore okay?” Although, he likes the way the two words mix together in the same sentence.

He worries it’s going to slip in your presence, he knows wren means no harm by it, but he would hate for you to feel uncomfortable if you ever were to hear her say it.

“Mhmm.” Her non-committal response earns her a laugh, fully focused on her show like nothing ever happened.

Dieter takes in the lively atmosphere around him. Laughter emanating from the party guests gathered in small groups around the pool, a carefree crowd dancing throughout the lawn area, smiles plastered on everyone’s faces— he couldn’t be more proud of Diem and all she has accomplished.

Readjusting the collar of his colorful half buttoned shirt, Dieter settles back into the chair, letting the sun kiss every bit of his exposed skin.

“How are things going over here?” Diem quietly asked, pulling Dieter from his ruminative thoughts.

Diem scoots Wren’s listless legs over to allow room for her to sit down, leaning over she grabs the device from her tiny sleepy hands, Wren’s little head nodding as she struggles to keep her drowsy eyes open.

“No complaints, looks like you had a good turnout. I’m really proud of you Diem, not just all of this,” His hand pointing around to her accomplishments on display in the form of a successfully running hotel and her well executed re-grand opening festivities. “But with Wren too. I’m glad that I got this chance to be with you both.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me—“ Her voice wobbly and soft as she beams at his acknowledgment of her dedication to her work and Wren. “Thank you. And I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without your help.”

Dieter nods, mirroring her heartfelt gratitude.

“Have you seen Poppy? I saw you both talking earlier.” He hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate, wanting to know your whereabouts, if you’re okay and why you’re not here— with him.

“She didn’t make it over?” His brows draw together, shaking his head slightly. Her nose wrinkled at the realization of why you hadn’t come over.

“What?”

“She saw you and your— little friend earlier, I don’t know for sure, but she seemed somewhat saddened by it. I’m surprised she didn’t come over though.”

“Shit! I gotta go. You good with her.” He stands abruptly, an unnerving feeling creeping up from his chest, hoping you didn’t mistake what you saw for anything but an awkward fan interaction.

“Yeah, go. I’m going to go put her down in my office.” Scooping up Wren’s sleeping frame. “Dieter?”

He turns back to her calling his name, hands flexing at his side, a nervous tick of his, as he waits for what Diem has to add.

“You should tell her.”

He’s not sure why it’s so difficult to find someone in a somewhat enclosed area. His eyes scanning every ecstatic face as he sidesteps through conversations anchored in effervescent exuberance, a stark contrast from his growing collection of spiraling thoughts.

If he could just find you, explain the situation to you in its entirety.

Explain how he truly feels.

How you'rer his first thought when he wakes in the morning, the giddy anticipation of seeing how beholden you are as he hands you the coffee he picks up from the bakery Wren and him stop at before school, how he takes in the way you tilt your head just enough to read the ridiculous notes he scribbles on the sides of each cup, “Have a Brewtiful Day!” “Better latte than never.”—each one extracting the most intoxicating laugh.

How he looks forward to seeing your face light up at his stupid jokes, never once admitting how horrible you think they are.

How you’re an added reason for him to want to be sober, never wanting to be on the receiving end of your disappointment in him. He wants that rewarding experience of seeing how proud you are of him.

And how he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms— morning, noon and night, keeping you as close as he possibly can, terrified that you’ll disappear the moment he lets you go.

His world seems to come to a standstill, everything he had been working up the courage to tell you, drained from his mind instantly.

Utterly shattered by the sight of you.

That smile of yours, paired with a full body laugh, directed at the man standing next to you. Your hand holding the top of his oversized bulging bicep as his large hand gently cups your elbow, leaning into each other as you both exchange words.

A reality he hadn’t even considered in the time he spent looking for you— you being happy with someone who isn’t him.

Crushed.

Confused.

Broken.

It’s a dizzying sensation. A chance lost— or so he thinks.

Rubbing his hands against his shorts, removing the evidence of his anxious response to seeing you wrapped up in what looked like an intimate conversation, his head still in a fogged state of shock.

He manages to will his body to move from where he’s been standing. His jaw ticks anxiously, surrounded by bodies dancing around his blurry peripherals. Releasing a deep sigh, he looks back to you once more, looking for what he hopes is closure.

Instead, he catches the moment the man you’d been friendly with, gesturing a goodbye as he retreats from the space he’d been sharing with you.

Dieter watches the way your expression morphs from bright and bubbly to soft and muted the minute you're alone, leaning against the cocktail table with your face tucked into your shoulder, closing yourself off from everything and everyone.

“Mind if I join you?” Dieter calmly approaches you, still holding on to the single thread of hope that he didn’t lose his chance.

“Hey! Of course you can.” Your face instantly lights up at the sight of him, patting the open spot on the table, genuinely welcoming him to be with you.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“What do you mean?” A line appears between your brows, shifting your body to fully face him with one arm still draped over the table top, your fingers casually drawing shapes onto the silky thin table cloth.

“The guy, I saw you talking to him— looks like he works out, a lot— the man is very hot.” Words fumbling out of his mouth, as he points back in the direction he thinks he saw the muscular guy head in. “I just mean, I don’t want to interrupt if there’s something potentially happening there.”

Your lips pressed together in an attempt to fight off the urge to laugh.

“What?”

“There was nothing happening there, like at all. That was Dan, he’s a good friend and he comes to classes at the gallery. I’d offer to introduce you two, since you think he’s so hot, but he just got back from his honeymoon— with his equally hot husband. We were just catching up.”

Dieter winces at your explanation of who the man was, feeling like an idiot for so foolishly assuming you were falling for the guy.

“Besides, he’s not really my type.” You state boldly with your head cocked to the side, one eye squinting to block the sun rays as you take stock of the way the sunlight tangles in his hair.

“Where’s your friend from earlier? She was really pretty. You both really seem to be hitting it off earlier.” Keeping your tone neutral, looking down at where your fingers are now pulling at a loose thread on the tablecloth, preparing yourself for how his response is definitely going to wreck you.

His hand settles next to yours, his fingers nervously tapping onto the hard surface.

“Actually, I have no clue who she was— didn’t even ask for her name, didn’t want to know it either. Sure, she was pretty and maybe in different circumstances I might have been interested in her… She was pissed though when I turned her down, I actually had to tell her to leave.”

“Really— Why?” Your attention drawn back up to where he’s still studying you, his brown eyes locked with yours, now etched in a glistening golden light from the setting sun.

He lifted his shoulders in a gentle shrug, taking a deep breath as he looked at you, “She just isn’t who I’m interested in.”

When you think back to when you were growing up, constantly daydreaming about what it would feel like the moment you realized you were in love, and if it would feel as good to have that same feeling reciprocated back to you, by someone who wholeheartedly felt the same way.

You decide that this is that moment, and it’s even better than you imagined it would be.

Dieter’s eyes drift over to the table, his hand slowly inching closer to yours, the light brush of his fingers over the top of your hand is electric, your breath catching as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours.

His thumb, tender as it slowly smooths over the ridges of your hand, glancing back to you to make sure that there’s no sign of discomfort in your face— you squeeze your fingers, a silent ‘I’m more than okay with this’.

A breeze picks up, his hair tousling around as it blows through where you both are standing. You lift your free hand to swipe the hanging curls out of his face, your fingers taking liberty to rake through his downy hair, each curl bouncing back into place.

“What’s your type then?” It’s menacing the way his husky voice cuts through the steady silence, encouraging you to share with him.

“Hmm…Tall, funny, sweet, driven, pretty— like really fucking pretty. Also has to answer to Uncle Dude in the presence of a sweet little 6 year old. Know of anyone who might fit that description?”

He nods along as you list off each quality, his eyes lighting up at mentioning good-looking.

“That’s quite the list.” He quips, your breathy laugh prompting a lopsided grin from him. “So— pretty, huh?”

“Yeah— really fucking pretty.” Your words are drawn out in a sincere manner, noting the way his eyes crinkle a little at the compliment.

Dieter’s hand nestles at the base of your neck, drawing your body closer to him. His touch potent and satisfying, as he commits to memory the way your skin feels beneath his fingertips, gliding them down your bare spine leaving goosebumps in their wake— his gaze never leaving yours.

“You’re interested in someone?” The answer seems obvious, but you want to hear it from him.

“Poppy, you gotta know it’s you—“ He utters earnestly with both of his hands now cupping your cheeks, watching the way your lips part as he leans in closer. “I lo— like you so fucking much Poppy, you’re the only one I’m interested in.”

The way he started to say that he loves you, it feels like you might float away, anchoring your hands on his wrists. Everything tingles in your stomach, he’s so close, his breath fanning over your lips. Your lashes flutter as he slowly angles your face, his nose brushing against yours.

It’s a whirlwind of energy drifting between both of you, building intensity with each passing second, the finality of the moment bound to be explosive.

Tiny hairs of his mustache grazing the underside of your nose. The top of his lip begins to settle over yours, it’s pillowy weight slowly meeting your—

*RING RING RING*

“Fuck!” The word vibrates across your upper lip at the vexing sound of Dieter’s phone ringing, offensively interrupting the flow of your almost kiss and urging him to answer it.

“I swear, if that’s Diem—“ A picture of Diem and Wren lights up the phone screen, his thumb swiping across to accept the call, he stands to his full height as he presses the device to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?… Okay… Yeah…Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute then… Love you too, bye.” Dieter ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

The entire phone conversation, his focus remains on you. His free hand never leaves the side of your face, thumb stoking across the warmed apple of your cheek—Your hand still holding on to him, the cadence of his heart-rate is rapid against your palm.

“Diem?”

“Yeah, she said Wren wanted to go home. She has to stay for another hour or two, make sure things close out here before she can head home.” He explains, zero annoyance detected in his face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m perfect.” You say softly, an airy smile spreading across your face. “What do we do now?”

Dieter takes in your question, so many answers floating around in his mind, but none of them feel sufficient enough at this moment, wanting to properly share everything he’s been feeling without being rushed or interrupted.

He leans back into your space, his lips pressing a chaste kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ll figure it out as we go.”

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #wildemaven writes

380 notes · View notes

bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 months

Text

Lost and Found ♧| 2.

Leon S. Kennedy x reader (ft. my girl Ash)

A/N: This... this took me so long lmao I rewrote it like five times. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though! I don't really write slow burn, so this might suck. I wanna apologize for how fucking wonky the events of Part one are???? They're all out of order lmao anyway, Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: swearing, reader is an idiot (lovingly, of course), mention of a small injury, sucky slow burn

Word count: 2.7k

Check out part one here!

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

🧡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🌙▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🧡

🧡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🌙▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🧡

It had been a couple of months since Spain happened. Your life has definitely... changed. Both good and bad. You were plagued by nightmares frequently, instinctively grasping your arm every time you shot awake. A faint, pink scar had formed where the gash once sat. Tracing it absent mindedly was a common occurrence ever since the first dream. You'd stare at the blank wall in your living room, gently caressing it.

That mission took a toll on you, so you were granted a few months off to work through your night terrors and process everything. Ashley had been a great help with that. She made sure you hung out at least once a week and always stayed in contact, calling you and you calling her. The events of Spain didn't leave Ashley without any struggles either. But, she had assured you that she was save, protected at all times and getting support from professionals. Talking to her, about Spain or anything really, helped you get out of the hole you were in.

She was your best friend. Whether or not she knew it, she really was. You didn't really have friends. Not since Raccoon City. You stayed inside your dull little home the last few years, working a boring office job for the government. Your only friend had been Dave, a middle-aged man who worked in the security department. So you rotted away for years, mourning your past life. Your past you.

Honestly, you have no idea how you ended up as a special agent in the first place. Your police background increased your chances at scoring the position, but you didn't really have much experience. When you were offered the 'promotion', you didn't think too much of it. Couldn't be that hard, could it? You'd survived Raccoon City after all.

You were so wrong. You basically traded the mediocre lunch breaks you had with Dave, with running for your life from Zombies. Bad fucking trade. And the worst part, your officials didn't give a shit. They just wanted this to be dealt with as discretely as possible. End of the story, they underestimated how big this whole thing actually was, and now you were the one left with the shitty consequences. But you had Ashley! And Leon, of course, but that was a little more complicated.

You still hadn't gotten around to the promise of getting drinks together. He was going away on missions all the time, so although you kept in touch no matter what, he wasn't there. You thought, after some excruciating years, you had found your best friend again. Your person. And you did, but he was so close yet so out of reach. You couldn't take it anymore. You lost 7 whole years with him, and you finally had him back, but he was still gone.

"I don't know what to do, Ash." You sighed, playing with your shirt while you held the phone to your ear.

"Well, have you told him that? I'm sure he wants to spend more time with you too, but you need to tell him that!" She urged. Biting your lip, you hestitated.

"I just... he was my best friend. We did everything together, and now.. I know that it's him but I don't recognize him. He's.. different now. I thought he didn't change, but.. he did. That scares me. What scares me even more is the fact that he's always on my mind, I can't seem to function without him here. I only think about him. 24/7." You mumbled into the phone.

"Sounds a whole lot like you're in love with him."

"I- what? No! I mean, of course I love him, he's my best friend, but that's it. He's just my friend and you can love your friends, right? Like, everyone does, it's not something odd or anything." you rambled.

Sure, your heart lit a flame every time he smiled, and the sound of his laugh was heaven. His dumb jokes never failed to put a smile on your face but that's just how friends are. Yes. Totally. Friends feel like that. Just some regular friendly feelings.

"You're so oblivious! That's NOT how friends feel about eachother. Like ever. I've seen the way you look at him!" She argued. "What look? I don't look at him differently... do I?"

"Yes, you do. Everytime he's near you, that lovesick smile on your face kinda gives it away. Or the blush when he asks if you're okay. Not to mention how you panic when he gets hurt. Just admit it!" Ashley whined.

"I'm not in love with him, Ashley! He's my best friend, that's it!" You argued. She groaned into the phone. "I can't believe you're so smart yet so stupid." She said, clearly annoyed. "Rude." you mumbled.

"I have to go now, Miss Denial. Seriously though, you're not doing yourself a favor by denying your feelings." She said softly. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I'll think about it?"

"Definitely. Love you!" She beamed.

"Love you too." You chuckled as she hung up. Maybe you would think about it. If not for yourself, then for her. She was right about suppressing your feelings but about you being in love with Leon... you weren't sure.

Eh, that was a problem for the future you. For now, all you wanted to do was enjoy some drinks with him.

Your teeth gnawed at your lip, trying to decided how to go about this situation. Do you call Leon now? Tomorrow, maybe? Should you call him at all? You hadn't talked to eachother in a while... would it be awkward? Before you can lend any more attention to those thoughts, your phone rang and it was none other than Leon. Speak of the devil. You picked up, your heart racing.

"Hey... look, I'm sorry for not calling more, work s'just been busy. I.. Do you want to go for those drinks I promised tonight?" He sounded nervous. Unsure. He sounded so much like the Leon you knew. Your Leon. Maybe he hadn't changed that much after all. "Y-yeah, I'd love that. Um- how does eight sound?" You responded, a little more nervous than you wanted to. "Sounds good. See you." And with that, he hung up.

Something's up with him. Your brows furrowed. Maybe he worked more to get his mind off Spain? He was a workaholic, trying to do more and more and not realizing how much it actually affected him. He was hurting himself by trying to protect others from harm. Maybe it's just the stress. You had plenty of time to question him at the bar, supported by a few Piña Coladas.

A couple of hours before, the anxiety hit you like a truck. It was safe to say that you were scared out of your mind right now. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to Leon like nothing was going on? Like nothing happened? You couldn't. And after that conversation with Ashley? Nope. No chance. Panic was bubbling up your throat. You felt like you could never face him again. Everytime you looked at him, or even thought of him, it was just pain. The pain of the building collapsing on top of you. Your pained cries when you realized he hadn't come back for you. The pain when you thought he was dead. The pain that if Ashley was right and you really were in love with him, you could lose him again.

He made your world bright and vibrant and when he was ripped from your grasp, you were lost in a sea of grey. Drowning. Desperately gasping for air, refusing to let the water in. Now, he had brought the color back to your life but all the vibrant hues made your head spin and your eyes hurt. You grew comfortable in your sea of grey. Embracing the cold kiss of the water filling your lungs, making you float peacefully.

Could you let the color back into your world? Could you pull yourself from the tide and cough up the water? Did you even want to? You didn't know. It was all too much. You were pulled out of your head when you dropped your glass of water. You were so consumed in your thoughts and anxieties that it had just slipped out of your hand. Carefully cleaning it up, you felt a sharp sting in your finger.

You had accidentally cut yourself on the broken glass shards. A small stream of blood was running down your finger and along your palm. A drop of blood hit the puddle of water, and it bloomed in red. You haven't felt like this in years. You could actually feel something. It's not like you didn't you feel the last seven years, but your soul was too numb to care. You actually felt something. Not like those times when you hit your head or nicked yourself while cooking. You would react relatively neutral to those incidents, but now... you could feel the burn of the cut, a searing sting in your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips.

It's because of him. Because you had him back, and he made you feel alive again. He had just stumbled into your life and turned it upside down. Like he always does. But you wouldn't want to have it any other way. God, how you had missed feeling like this. So vulnerable. So sensitive. So human.

You cleaned up the glass but hung on to the feeling of the cut. You didn't like it per se, but it made you feel like something inside you had been fixed. A missing puzzle piece that slotted right into place. It just felt so right.

Just like he did. You shook your thoughts, having the habit of spiraling, wether it may be good or bad, and continued on with your afternoon. Your nerves about spending time with Leon calmed, it was just Leon! Your best friend. You had nothing to worry about. Well, with Leon, usually there was at least a little something to be worried about.

You were out the door, into the night, on your way to Leon. You had decided to just walk there since parking was an absolute nightmare in this city. Besides, the fresh air in your lungs and cooling breeze on your face was something you hadn't felt in a while. Fumbling with a small box in your pocket, you continued to the bar you two had agreed to meet up at. It wasn't really a present, more something you wanted to return. You never thought you could.

You took a deep breath before stepping into the warmth of the bar. Your eyes were searching for Leon, looking for that familiar blonde head of hair. Spotting him in the back, an inevitable smile crept onto your face. When Leon noticed you, his face lit up, a hand reaching up to signal you over to him. He stood up when you approached and immediately pulled you into a tight hug.

"Hey." He mumbled, muffled by your hair. "Hi." You said, the joy in your voice evident. The first real hug in seven years. You could've melted on the spot. It felt so good. So right.

You reluctantly pulled away, smiling at him. "Wow... It's been a while, huh?" He said with a small laugh. "Yeah.." you responded with a chuckle. You sat down and ordered your drinks. "So.. what have you been up to? How have you been?" You asked. He pondered for a moment. "Not a lot to be honest. Worked a lot, you know, saved the world once or twice." He joked at which you just playfully rolled your eyes.

"What about you?"

"I uh... I adopted a dog. Her name is Lady, she's a Bernese mountain dog. I couldn't stand being alone anymore so I got Lady and yeah... that's about it when it comes to major life events." You laughed, a little nervous but the tension was fading by the minute.

"You gave in, huh? You used to talk my ear off about wanting a dog back then, remember?" He smiled. You did talk about wanting a dog all throughout your time at the police academy and it seemed like you had finally fulfilled that dream.

"Yeah, I did. She's so sweet, you'll love her." you said with a smile. Leon let out a laugh. "I'm more worried about her liking me." He joked.

You two continued to talk and drink, just laughing and having a good time. The night got closer and closer to ending when you remembered the box in your pocket.

"I have something for you." You mumbled, nervous to how he would react. He piped up at that and raised his eyebrows. "Aw, for me?" He teased. You just gave him a shy smile. Now or never. You pulled out the small box and slid it over to him. "I wanted to return this." you said quietly. His brows furrowed and a confused look fell on his face. "Return? Alright."

Leon carefully undid the bow and opened the lid. Not in a million years had he expected this. His jaw hit the fucking floor. It was his goddamn RPD badge. What the fuck? How did you even get this? It was tattered and faded. He gently ran his fingers across his barely legible name.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You had no idea how he would react. Leon looked at you completely bewildered. "I.. How?" He asked, still shocked. You shifted in your chair and fiddled with your fingers. "When... when I got out, I found it on the ground. It was the only thing I had left of you." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact. By 'got out' you meant fighting and clawing your way through infected residents and escaping the ruins of the collapsed building.

You could see the pain in his eyes. Whether it was his own for the pain he felt for you, you weren't sure. You spoke before he could. "I made a promise to myself that I would get it back to you one day, but.. at some point, I gave up and just kept it for myself. I thought you were dead and that this," you gestured to the badge," was the only thing I had left of you. My best friend. But it's yours, I want you to have it back." You said, your voice cracking, trying not to cry.

You could see the tears glistening in his eyes, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped his badge. "Thank you..." was all he managed to get out. You quickly wiped the tears that were threatening to fall and let out a sad laugh.

"God... I'm sorry for ruining the mood like that. It probably would've burned a hole in my pocket if I kept it any longer, though..."

Leon placed his badge on the table and took your hands in his. "You didn't. Well, a little maybe, but I'm really grateful for this. Thank you." He assured you, sqeezing your hands. Your skin lit on fire. His touch was so addicting. And so comforting. A blush made its way onto your face. Oh, fuck. Was Ashley right? No. No way, it's just a little hot in here. That's all. But you couldn't deny the way your heart twisted and turned when he touched you, the butterflies in your stomach were having a fucking rave right now. Jesus, it's just Leon. Get it together You thought to yourself.

Shaking off all those annoying feelings, you returned a smile. "How about I make it up to you with a Movie Night, hm? Ice cream and cuddles from Lady included." You proposed. He grinned and leaned in a little closer. "What about cuddles from you?" He asked, a teasing smirk on his face. It didn't come off nearly was confident as he wanted it to. His voice shook a little, making him sound nervous.

Leon Kennedy? Nervous? Something was definitely up. His nervousness didn't stop the bubbling feeling in your stomach, though. There go the butterflies again. Stupid bugs. This is normal, though. Right? You always cuddled. Friends cuddle. No big deal. He's always been like that. No sweat. Just a little friendly cuddle session. That. Is. It. Is it bad that you wanted it to be more than that? The idea of being in love with him suddenly didn't feel as scary anymore.

Part three is coming soon~

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon #ashley graham

144 notes · View notes

saltydumplings · 1 year

Note

I have to say that your snippet 17 (the one with the henchman falling for both hero and villain) is SO GOOD, I loved. Would you continue someday (if not, no problem)

Snippet #17.4

Part 4

OMG I FINALLY DID IT, Y'ALL I FEEL LIKE I REWROTE THIS ONE ABOUT TEN TIMES MY GOD

Cw: SPICCCYYY (on the off chance you weren't already aware)

When the henchman awoke, their whole body ached. It was a good ache though - satisfying. Blinking sleepily, they groaned and stretched, a content sigh slipping past their lips as they huddled deeper into the blankets around them. Seconds passed and they were almost asleep again when warm hands wrapped around their waist, pulling them back and close to the person laying behind them.

"Not a morning person either, hm?" the villain murmured.

Their voice stirred the henchman slightly - sent their eyes fluttering back open to realise that they weren't in their own bed. The events of last night washed over them like a memory from a dream: the villain working over every part of their body until they forgot how to speak, the way the other had teased and toyed with them ruthlessly - touching and kissing everywhere; the hero's praise as they watched from a distance, telling the henchman exactly how good they were being while the villain continued to pleasure them, coaxing out one moan after the next until the henchman was practically on the brink of tears.

But it hadn't been a dream. The henchman was here now and so was the villain, and god they would do anything to do it all over again...

They let out a soft whine as they turned, their limbs numb and heavy as they pulled themself closer still - hiding their face against the villain's chest. In return, their superior hummed, tangling their legs together and resting their chin upon the henchman's head, clearly content for them to stay just like that for as long as they wanted.

"I don't know how Hero does it," they commented. "I can barely bring myself to leave the bed at this time, let alone exercise."

Was that where the other was? No: perhaps they had been before but the henchman could hear the shower going in the adjacent bathroom.

It wasn't a bad idea...getting clean, that is. The henchman dreaded to think of the state of the covers they were bundled so comfortably in, let alone the state of themself. Just the mere thought of it was enough to make them blush, glad that their face was hidden so perfectly.

A few minutes passed and they stayed like that, at the lazy halfway point between wakefulness and sleep - the point where everything looked soft and pliant in the morning light, a space where the rest of the day's ventures couldn't touch them. They snoozed, cuddled, hummed when the villain stroked a hand through their hair.

After a while the shower turned off and the bathroom door opened, the sound of footsteps padding out to stand at the edge of the bed. Next to them they felt the villain stir, the other removing one hand from the henchman's waist to grip the covers instead.

"Hero," they heard the villain warn.

The sheets were tugged down slightly but the villain tugged back.

A snort. Then a scoff. "Lazy..." the hero muttered as they came to stand beside the other, hands on their hips as they stared down - a white towel just barely clinging to their frame.

"Unlike you," the villain said, "I enjoy my mornings."

"And who's saying I haven't enjoyed mine?"

A pause.

The henchman pouted as they felt the villain turn away only to have a second weight fall onto them, the hero squeaking slightly as they were suddenly pulled down onto the bed. They scrambled upright in a huff, fixing the villain with a glare.

"I just got clean," they whined.

The villain smirked. "You say that as if it matters." They sat up, pulling the hero into their lap whilst the henchman inched away slightly - too intent upon a few minutes extra sleep to care about what was happening beside them.

The hero blushed, a stubborn frown still adorning their face as the villain caught their chin and brushed a thumb over their lips. "Funny," the villain said then, "you're not as desperate as I left you last night."

"Perhaps it's because I took out all my frustrations on the punching bag."

"Possible. Then again, you also took an extra ten minutes in the shower..."

The henchman rolled their eyes slightly before turning to lie on their stomach, pulling the spare covers over their head. It was barely past eight o'clock, how did these two have the energy to flirt?

They buried their face into the pillow just as some very suspicious rocking motions started happening, the hero's breath hitching tellingly and the henchman's cheeks flushing at the sound.

It was eight o'clock. In the morning.

Eight.

And they had to get up soon for that stupid meeting...

The henchman's eyes opened in a panic, head lifting up slowly to glance at their superiors. The villain had one hand around the hero's neck and the other on their sex, working them steadily as the other let out small moans - their towel apparently long since discarded. The henchman went to open their mouth but closed it the second the villain caught them looking, face going an even deeper shade of red than it had been before.

"Interested, pet?" the villain asked.

The hero hummed. "I want to use their mouth again. It'll be free when you're giving them their reward, right?"

The villain raised a brow, their movements slowing down to an agonising pace which had the hero whining. "I don't know, sounds more like a reward for you than them."

"I-I, um..." They sat up, opening their mouth only to get the same result: they couldn't do it; they couldn't bring themself to tell them.

They should have done it last night - they'd intended to do it last night - but the villain had been relentless: there was never a good time to say it and even now any potential moment seemed to have passed.

Seeing their hesitation, the hero put one hand upon the villain's wrist to still them before leaning forward slightly, capturing the henchman's chin in a soft hold. "You can play if you want," they offered. "Or you can watch - there's no pressure."

"It's - th-that's--"

"Still tired, pet?" Suddenly the villain's hand was in their hair, stroking slowly. "I had you working all of yesterday...and, admittedly, most of the night."

"No, I'm fine, I just...I-I just..."

God, the hero and villain were touching them in ways that made them want to melt. All they wanted to do was stay right there and do whatever they wished but this was important - the villain couldn't afford to miss it, let alone be as much as a minute late. The henchman needed to tell them now even though it was going to break their perfect moment.

"If you're about to say you have paperwork to do you're not allowed," the hero said strictly, shifting from the villain's lap and onto theirs, straddling them in all their naked glory.

"Oh, n-no - I mean, kinda, but not--"

"Henchman, if you so much as mention a single word about work, I think I may have to punish you..."

The henchman didn't know when the villain had come to kneel behind them but suddenly they were trapped in on all sides, their back to the villain's chest while the hero was trying to pull down the blanket that still covered them. They were both so close - s-so warm.

"You remember you're mine now, yes?" the villain said. The henchman didn't have the collar on them at that moment but still their superior traced a line where it would have lay. "No running away to that office of yours unless I--"

"Actually, I think you mean they're ours," the hero corrected, putting their hand over the villain's and holding it there - the henchman's neck now framed by both their palms. "They belong to me just as much as you."

The villain huffed. "If that's what you want to believe, love."

"I-I really should..." The henchman's mind was starting to grow foggy. They shivered a little, trying to focus. "Villain, there's- we have a meeting with--"

"Ah, so that's what you're so fussed about. Worried to pass off one of my clients," the villain said with a smirk. "It's cute that you care so much about my investments, pet, but you don't have to worry about that. I'll just cancel it, I'm sure they can wait until tomorrow."

"But--"

"Didn't Villain just tell you that if you mentioned work they'd punish you?" the hero asked. "Oh, honey, you don't want to be digging yourself an even deeper hole now, do you? Perhaps I help shut you up before you say anything else, hm?"

And just like that the hero's lips were on their own, the henchman unable to contain the desperate whine that had been clawing at the back of their throat - their thoughts frustrated and flustered all at once. Why was it so hard? Why were they making it so hard - how were they making it so hard?! The henchman just had to say one word: the second the supervillain's name slipped off their tongue this would all end...

Though maybe that was the main issue.

Because the last thing the henchman wanted was for this to end.

They felt their arms being drawn behind them but they didn't fight it, letting the villain do as they pleased while the hero continued to claim their mouth - their hands now free to roam the henchman's body without interference. Right as the hero managed to pull the blanket down past their waist, the villain's lips latched onto the henchman's shoulder, quickly finding a space where they hadn't left their mark yet.

Say it, the henchman scolded themself but still they kept returning the hero's kiss.

Say. It.

All that left their lips was a desperate whimper, the villain's hold upon them firm whilst the hero nudged their thighs apart slowly - the combination of the two completely unfair but the henchman wouldn't have had it any other way; wouldn't have given this up for anything but...

"Supervill'n..."

Holy shit they said it.

They felt the villain's lips freeze upon their neck before withdrawing slowly - the hero's attentions continuing to travel downwards, oblivious.

"What was that?" the villain asked.

"Supervillain, we--" The hero's tongue was tracing a steady line up their thigh, stopping just short of where they wanted it. They cut off with a pitiful whine before remembering themself, trying to squirm away before the hero could go any further. "W-We have a meeting with S-Supervillain!"

A beat.

The hero's hands stilled as they peered up, one brow quirked slightly as their mouth gaped. "You're kidding," they said.

The henchman shook their head. "Their lair. N-Nine o'clock."

"Nine o'clock..." They felt the villain release them, turning to check the small clock on the bedside table. "That's in forty minutes."

"I-I was going to tell you yesterday," the henchman explained as the hero sat up, already mourning the loss of their touch. "I just...I mean there was a-a, um..."

"Distraction?" the hero provided.

The henchman flushed. "It didn't seem like th-the right time."

"And this morning?" the villain asked, sliding off the bed to stand in one smooth motion and opening one of their drawers.

The henchman's embarrassment only grew. "Well, I didn't remember at first. N-Not until you and Hero were...a-and then - then - I tried to tell you b-but you said you'd punish me if I talked about work!"

The villain paused as they were buttoning up their shirt, gaze shifting onto the henchman with interest. "I did say that."

The henchman opened their mouth and then promptly shut it again, the hole they'd seemingly dug themself into getting deeper by the second. A soft pressure stroked against their thigh and they glanced down, finding the hero laying beside them - eyes alight with the same dangerous curiosity that the villain was showing. The henchman looked from one to the other, the blush on their cheeks steadily moving down their neck.

"I-I still get my reward, right?" they asked.

Their superiors shared a look. A long look.

When their attention turned back to the henchman, they swallowed.

"R-Right?"

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain #hero x villain #hero x villain x henchman #hero #villain #henchman x villain #hero x henchman #villain x henchman #henchman

205 notes · View notes

hey-kae · 2 years

Text

Already So Perfect

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female reader

Request: hi! if you take requests could u maybe write about best friend!charles turned into boyfriend!charles and before the next gp, pierre goes to your hometown to help u with a surprise for charles and after the surprise you make the relationship official?

Warnings: Language, Monaco GP 2022.

Sidenote: I rewrote this about 4 times before i ended up with this version, what explains how long it took for me to post it, but i ended really liking how it turned out so i hope you do too! Strongly recommend listening to Dandelions by Ruth B. while reading cause it came on while i was writing it and my heart went 💥

Monaco Grand Prix 2022:

After that one awful pitstop and the expletives that spilled out of Charles' mouth in pure anger and frustration as he got back on track, it all seemed unsalvageable in the monégasque's eyes. It was set in stone in his mind that this weekend would be nothing but a disappointing memory that he would have learn from only to store it away and ignore it for the rest of his life after that.

For now, he didn't really know how he'd end up dealing with the painfully fresh memory, but he knew one thing for sure: he didn't expect to look back on the weekend with a satisfied smile.

You had been watching the race from the pit lanes, switching between the Alpha Tauri garage and the Ferrari one so you would be able to listen to your two best friends' team radios. Your eyes furiously came back to the grid positions every few seconds as the race neared its end, anxiously watching for any changes in the positions.

You were in the Ferrari garage, red headphones on your ears so you could listen to Charles' radio when he was asked to box. That's when shit hit the fan and a rather good race turned into a disaster. Your body acted on its own, ripping the headphones off you ears, simply not bearing to hear Charles' angry, pained voice screaming curse words like he had nothing else to say. Because, let's be real, he probably didn't.

Your eyes closed as you realized how bad this was. It was almost painful, the silence that took over the room as Charles' name dropped down to P4. The thought of how much disappointment Charles was dealing with right now squeezed at your heart and made your throat dry.

You just let your legs carry you out of the Ferrari garage and you walked in silence towards the Alpha Tauri one, knowing that the atmosphere there wouldn't be much better but still desperately wanting to escape the heavy aura of the red-dominated room.

You stayed there until all the cars passed the checkered flag and Pierre appeared amongst his team members. He shook everyone's hands, a consoling attempt from both sides, then he finally reached you giving you a quick friendly hug that showed how much he appreciated your presence there.

You never knew what to say in these situations, so you just settled for a small "Hard luck." and a sympathetic smile. Pierre responded with a small nod and a half-hearted smile.

Seconds of silence dragged on as you and Pierre stood there.

"Vas à lui. Il a besoin de toi maintenant." Go to him. He needs you right now.

It was slightly selfish, but your heart wouldn't bear being around a disappointed Charles. You just knew you'd end up blurting out anything that would make him feel better, even if that meant spilling things you wanted to keep to yourself.

"He has Arthur and his mother with him. You're alone here, Pierre."

"No, y/n. He needs you by his side after today." He emphasized the 'you' in his statement. Even after the bad race he had, a glimmer of mischief sparkled in the French driver's eyes, twisting the meaning of his words in many confusing ways.

The questioning looks you gave Pierre made him give you a little push and a small, encouraging "Go!"

For some reason, Pierre's insistence made you hurl to the bright red garage, only to find it mostly empty except for some team members. Enough time had passed since the race. Charles had probably already passed by here and was probably even done with the media and press duties he had post-race.

Your shoulders slouched in a short-lived moment of surrender before you started sprinting to the motorhome, knowing that would be where you'd find Charles.

Thankfully, you were right. Charles was in his driver's room. He seemed to be picking up a few things and packing them in a duffel bag so he could head home.

"Charles..." You started but quickly found that your words were crushed under the weight of the situation.

He turned to look at you the second his name rolled off your lips. It might sound dramatic, but you could almost see his guard being let down, the unreadable look on his face quickly getting replaced by an honest, vulnerable one. He finally allowed his body to relax and he sat on the massage table behind him.

"I'm so sorry about today." You managed, taking a cautious step towards him.

Charles, when upset, usually kept to himself and bottled up all his feelings, so it was safe to say that you didn't expect his hand to wrap around your wrist nor for him to pull you in to stand between his parted legs.

"J'en ai marre de ça, y/n." I'm sick of this, y/n. He mumbled, pulling you close and hugging you around the stomach.

"Je sais." I know. You didn't have the right words to say so you just rubbed circles on his back with one hand and ran your fingers through his tangled hair with other, not caring that it was still slightly damp with sweat.

You hoped it helped him feel a little better, but you highly doubted that so you just let him stay wrapped around you for as long as he needed. You didn't mind staying that way until he decided he okay to pull away.

The staff, on the other hand, had other plans.

"Charles, i'm really sorry but they need to start deconstructing the motorhome." Someone spoke from outside the room. Charles pulled away, his expression scarily impatient, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath in attempt to calm himself down.

"C'mon." He disguised the urge to ask you to come home with him with the small word but you understood him and you didn't find one reason to why you shouldn't accompany him. If he needed you by his side, even if it was just as a friend, that is where you were gonna be. At least for today, you were willing to ignore your feelings for the guy that was currently guiding you out of the Ferrari motorhome towards the outdoors.

Once you were outside, you felt his hand wrap around yours. It shocked you enough that your gaze immediately shifted down to look at your hands. Charles, apparently just as surprised by his gesture, studied your face, trying so hard to read you expression and understand how you felt towards that. You didn't really know what reaction he wanted so you concealed all the feelings this gave you, keeping your expression neutral.

His lips pursed and he started making his way towards his black Ferrari. You followed him with a head swirling with a million thoughts.

The drive to his apartment was overruled by a comfortable but confused silence. Fans had stopped him on his way out of the parking space, waving at him but keeping a distance, clearly aware of the race results.

Once you reached your destination, Charles told you to make yourself at home before he disappeared into his bedroom.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower." He appeared in the doorframe, shirtless with a towel draped over his arm.

You nodded, looking away as you felt your cheeks blush. You saw him disappear again out of the corner of your eye.

Letting out a breath you were holding, you rid yourself of your light jacket and headed towards his kitchen to make him something to eat.

It was shocking how fast Charles' quick shower was. You didn't expect him to walk into the kitchen so soon, but there he was, hair still wet, watching you from one of the chairs by the kitchen table.

"You don't have to make food."

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

He nodded and thanked you before the room fell back into silence.

You were reaching to grab a plate when you heard Charles' voice again.

"I don't know why i feel like this is the right time to say this but I can't see you as a friend anymore."

His words immobilized you momentarily but you quickly recovered and spun around to face him.

"I'm sorry, what?" You didn't know if you were confused or hurt. Whatever it was that you were feeling, it wasn't good.

Here you were, keeping him company in his apartment after a bad race and making him food, trying to make up for his bad day and he still had the audacity to tell you he didn't see you as a friend anymore.

"I just can't be friends with you anymore," you didn't wait for him to finish. You dropped everything you had in your hands onto the counter and quickly started making your way back to his living room so you could grab your phone and get going.

However, his damn fast reactions kicked in and his arm wrapped around your waist just as you were gonna pass him.

He stood up before he continued his previously interrupted sentence.

"... i like you too much to be okay with being your friend. Je veux être beaucoup plus que cela." I want to be way more than that.

At this point, he didn't need to hold you back from walking away. That thought was long gone and instead, you quickly turned to face him. Your mind didn't register it fast enough because it just sounded too good to be true.

Pierre's insistence that you go to Charles after the race instead of staying with him suddenly started making sense.

You stared at your best friend in disbelief, you mind still processing the fact that he just said the words you thought you'd never hear from him. It seemed like you brain was too busy memorizing this moment instead of busying itself with coming up with a response.

You just stood there admiring the guy you've liked for so long, since both of you were children begging your parents to sleep over at each others' houses, and the look on his face as he expressed feelings you could've only dreamt he felt.

"Now would be the time to say something." He grimaced awkwardly, his mind already running over the list of ways this weekend could tumble even lower down the scale of catastrophe. He was desperately trying to get insight on wether or not this was a good idea.

Without even realizing what you were doing nor thinking the action through, your arms reached up and wrapped around his neck, inhaling the comforting scent of his shampoo and basking in the the comfort of being so close to him. At that moment, you literally felt him relax and exhale in relief, his own arms wrapping around your waist in a delicate embrace while he hid his face in your neck.

The fact that you could feel his heart beat against your own body gave you goosebumps all over. However, it seemed like for now the only thing you cared about was how amazingly safe you felt in his toned arms. It felt like that's where you belonged in the first place. It felt like home.

After that, Charles decided that eating on the table would put too much distance between the two of you so you ended up on his couch, your legs draped over one of his and two plates of food in your laps as he ranted about his day before he made sure to ask you about yours.

As it neared midnight, you started getting anxious about leaving alone this late, especially since you were getting sleepy.

"Charles, i really need to leave." You started getting up, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer.

"Leaving? Why? Just stay here."

Previously, there were moments in your friendship with Charles where the limit lines blurred and you ended up cuddling in bed until both you fell asleep. You never thought it was weird since you had grown up around Charles and the both of you grew up thinking it was normal. Therefore, it didn't really make sense to him that you were planning to leave tonight after all that happened.

It barely took any convincing from his side before you were dressed in his sweats and cuddled up with him in his bed.

The night passed in a blur of confessions and sloppy kisses and before you knew it, sunlight came into the room uninvited, reminding you that even if you felt like the two of you were the only ones to exist in this world, reality still says otherwise.

You woke up to two text messages from pierre.

"I haven't heard from both u and Charles since yesterday so i guess last night went like i thought it would." The first text read, the other one being a string of winking emojis.

You didn't have time to respond since Charles, still mostly asleep, grabbed your phone out of your hand, dropped it onto the mattress and pulled you back into him as you giggled.

Silverstone Race week 2022:

A full month since monaco. A full month since you and Charles started dating.

Precisely, on the Wednesday before the british race, the 29th, a full month would've passed.

It was the Monday just before that. Charles was flying to you tomorrow, planning to spend the day here before the both of you head to Britain. Pierre, on the other hand flew in on Sunday just like you asked him to.

Throughout the past month, Charles had gone out of his way to spend as much time with you as was possible. The amount of dates he had managed to sneak into his schedule was absurd, especially since the dates involved one of you flying to the other. You wanted to do something nice for him. That's where Pierre, who was ecstatic when he found out the two of you were dating, came into play.

While watching a movie with Charles once, there was a scene where the two main characters went on a date on the beach right as sunset started. He had said that he's always wanted to try that so, naturally, you were planning to recreate that for him.

You saved up some money and rented out a section of a beachside restaurant, spilling some additional cash so they would give you full privacy and control over the space for a few hours. You insisted on the privacy part of the deal since your relationship with Charles was still a secret. No one other than Pierre and your families knew.

Along with your french best friend, you went shopping and got all the things you needed, from cooking ingredients down to small candles to decorate with.

Pierre stared complaining once he realized he was going to have to help you with all the cooking, but he still did it nonetheless, telling you that he expects any future Leclerc children to hold his name due to his big contribution in making the relationship happen.

"Dude, what the hell? We've been dating for a month! Easy on us, please." You had replied.

Tuesday noon, you climbed into your car and headed straight to the airport to pick up Charles. He met you in the parking lot and gave you the biggest kiss once he settled in your passenger seat.

As was planned, Pierre was nowhere to be found when Charles and you returned to your apartment. He was probably already finishing up the preparations of the things you had bought yesterday.

As sunset neared, you started bugging Charles that he should get up and get dressed because you wanted to show him a spot you discovered. After some bickering about that, he ended up putting on some white shorts and a loose beige button down. You couldn't help but smile as you realized he had unknowingly picked out the perfect outfit for what you had planned and that the color of his shirt was almost identical to the color of your sundress.

Halfway through the drive, you stopped on the side of the road to blindfold Charles with a bandana you brought with you. You also sent Pierre a quick message telling him he should disappear from the restaurant in about 5 minutes, then you resumed the journey.

"I don't like this, y/n. I'm getting nauseous." Charles had complained many times, even after you had parked your car and started helping him out of it.

"5 more seconds, i swear." You assured him as you guided him down the beach. Luckily, there was a pavement that gilded through the sand so he hadn't picked up on where you two were yet.

Once you reached the spot you and Pierre prepared, you turned around to make sure everything looked good before telling Charles to take off the blindfold.

It looked golden, in a way.

The sun was just about to start setting, its light harmonizing perfectly with the one coming from the littered candles and the lanterns paving the way to the dinner set up. Instead of setting up a table, you had used a big white tablecloth directly on the sand and placed many pillows and cushions on its edges. Right in the middle was the food Pierre had helped you prepare, distributed neatly on white plates. In a big bucket of ice on the side, there was a bottle of white wine ready to be served and just beside that, there was a bouquet of red tulips and white baby's breaths, the only pop of color that meets the eye.

You had chosen the tulips because they meant 'thank you' and you were thankful for Charles. The baby's breath, on the other hand, was a different story. The florist told you it symbolized everlasting love, and even though you have not said it before, but you loved Charles in a way that felt like it would most-literally define the meaning of the word "everlasting".

"You can open your eyes." You spoke after intertwining your fingers with his.

You watched Charles as he ripped the bandana off with his free hand, his expression completely changing as his eyes met the sight in front of him. His lips were parted and his eyes were glistening, his hold on your arm tightening.

"Oh mon dieu, y/n." Oh my god, y/n. He gasped.

"I don't know if you remember when you told me you wanted to go on a beach date, but i wanted to surprise you with one. Plus, tomorrow is the 29th, so it's been a month since Monaco, what means that we've-" he cut off your rambling with a passionate kiss, his lips feeling perfect against yours, an amazing combination of sweet and firm.

"Je n'comprend pas comment tu es si parfaite. Ça- Ça c'est magnifique, et toi... Mon dieu, tu es tout ce que j'ai toujours voulu." I don't understand how you're so perfect. This- this is amazing, and you... My god, you're all i've ever wanted. He said after breaking the kiss, pulling you as close to him as was possible, planting small kisses on your forehead between his words.

"Tu merite bien plus que ça, Charles." You deserve way more than this, Charles. You kissed his cheek and snuggled into his chest while he continued staring in disbelief.

Seeing him smiling like that was all you wanted out of life. Seeing his eyes glimmer with so much happiness made you want to spend forever making him happy. You were never superstitious nor religious but, standing right there with him made you want to beg every higher power and wish on every shooting star, passing airplane and dandelion that you'd get to spend the rest of your life with this man.

He looked over at you, his gaze making it hard to breathe while also setting your soul free and making your heart dance with utmost joy.

If the kind of love that comes once in a lifetime and sticks around until your very last breath actually existed, this was definitely it for you.

"I love you, Charles. I think i was already starting to in Monaco, but now i feel it so strongly and i just can't hold it in anymore." The words spilled out of your mouth once your body felt like it was overflowing with the love you felt for the man stood beside you.

To your relief, the words made Charles' smile grow.

"I love you too, mon ange." My angel. He kissed the top of your head. "Je t'aime tellement beaucoup plus que je ne le pensais possible." I love you way more than I thought was possible.

His words had such a strong effect on you. They made your heart want to escape its cage and leap towards his. You've just never felt happier.

After that, you both sat and ate.

Charles literally blushed when you gave him the flowers and explained their meanings to him. It nearly made your heart burst, seeing him so flustered over something you did.

You were sat between his legs, his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a loving embrace when he propped his phone up on one of the cushions beside him without you noticing, immortalizing the moment perfectly in a photo. You had your head tilted back slightly, your eyes closed and one your hands wrapped around his arm while the other reached behind you to cup his face as he kissed your cheek, your surroundings illuminated softly with the glow of lanterns and small candles.

The moment he showed you the picture, you fell in love with it, making him smile.

"How about we use it to let the world know? I just want post it in my story and brag about having you in my arms." He suggested in a tone that made it clear that he was just testing the waters. He wasn't going to pressure you into anything but he just wanted you to know he was ready to share this with everyone.

You quickly turned to look at him. You found him waiting for a response with full seriousness.

"You actually want to do that?"

He nodded, "As long as you want it too. We don't have to do it yet but I'll probably end up using this picture no matter when." He chuckled, looking back down at his phone screen.

You admired his smiling face and his blushed cheeks and asked yourself why you were hiding the fact that you get to call him yours from the world anyway. Looking at him alone made you grin like a lovesick idiot, for God's sake.

"Post it." You smiled and he looked up at you with so much love it nearly made you squirm.

"Tu es certaine?" Are you sure?

You nodded and kissed him.

Less than a minute later, he put his phone away, signifying that your relationship was now as public as it can get. You heart beat faster as both excitement and nervousness coursed through you, but Charles touch on your skin was quick to dispose of any negative thoughts.

When you were back home, you logged into instagram and hundreds of notifications rolled in.

You ignored them and just clicked on Charles' story to see what he had posted. Sure enough, the picture from earlier appeared on your screen, the only addition being very few words Charles added on the bottom corner.

"I don't think it gets better than this." The small text box read and right below it was your username, signifying that Charles had mentioned you.

You heart swelled at the little sentence he had chosen to add and you found yourself replaying the story over and over again before finally sharing in onto your own profile, the grin never leaving your face.

After that, you sent Pierre a quick message, inviting him over for breakfast tomorrow, thanking him repeatedly for his help and letting him know that everything went well.

"I know."

"I just liked his story." He replied, shamelessly referencing the many internet memes about him liking posts on instagram. It was funny, you couldn't deny that.

You sat and thought about the upcoming race weekend while Charles' singing voice sounding from the shower filled the apartment, grounding you and assuring you that this was in fact your reality, even if it felt too good to be true.

This weekend, you'd finally get to walk around the paddock with Charles without going out of your way to look like platonic friends like you had done the previous race. This weekend, you'd finally get to walk around with his hand in yours and with the whole world knowing that he was your boyfriend. The thought alone made your stomach fill with butterflies,

It seems like Charles was right after all. It doesn't get much better than this, does it?

How can it get better when this is already so perfect?

#charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc oneshots #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fic #f1 oneshots #f1 one shot #f1 x you #f1 imagine

957 notes · View notes

venusswhite · 1 month

Text

Above the Ruins | Seven

Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

masterlist

In a world devastated by chaos and the threat of the undead, two destinies intertwine in an unexpected way. Ghost, a hardened ex-military man haunted by the horrors of war, encounters [reader], a lost and desolate young woman. With his experience and determination, Ghost decides to help her, and together they embark on a dangerous journey in search of a refugee center.

notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English.

Six - Eight

[Travel Day to the Refuge]

We were already with our backpacks and ready to go. We would have to pass through the city to get to the forest, the only problem is the amount of freaking zombies roaming the streets.

The plan was to try to pass by them without attracting attention and hope that none of them see us. Another strategy was to go in a line: me, [name], and Soap.

I was good at reconnaissance and the biggest of the group. So, I would choose the least dangerous path since I could see farther. Soap was very attentive, so he would know if something was following us. [Name] stayed in the middle since she hadn't experienced the same things as us, so her senses weren't as sharp as ours and also because I worry. I can't stop looking back to make sure she's okay.

A few minutes later, we were near the city center, where we would head to a preserved forest area. It was a bit longer route, but also safer, as people crowded in cities.

Leading the group, I made a turn to reach the core of the city center when I saw a group of about 5 zombies walking irregularly down the street.

I step back, making [name] bump into my back.

"What happened?", She asks.

"Zombies. Get down!", I speak softly as I crouch and walk towards the rear of a car, followed by the other two.

"Shall we shoot?", Soap asks.

"No. Too risky. We'll have to kill them one by one. Soap takes two on the left, I take two on the right, and [name] deals with one in the middle.", I say, seeing her about to protest. "Show me you're ready for bigger tasks, and then I'll give you a bigger task. For now, no discussion."

So we walk slowly with our knives. I quickly take one down, hitting its skull with my knife, and see another one coming towards me. I quickly retrieve my knife from the first one and throw it at the second.

When I'm done, I see Soap finishing off his second one, and [name] finishing off one with her knife.

"Good job, guys!", Soap says.

Returning to our lineup, we continue down the street, trying to avoid the zombies as much as possible.

After a long walk, going through alleys, choosing longer streets, and crawling under cars and trucks, we finally reach the entrance to the forest area.

"I think we can stand side by side here, but stay alert."

✧˖°₊

We've been walking for hours. Luckily, we hadn't encountered any zombies, which was actually expected.

"I'm hungry. Can't we stop for a bit?", the youngest one asks.

"Just for a few minutes. We can't afford to waste time now."

We choose a tree with a larger shade and quickly eat. We couldn't waste time here.

I take out my map and try to locate us.

"We should reach the next river by nightfall if we keep up the pace. The sound of the water will keep us hidden."

They nod, and we return to the long walk.

It was all long and boring. We didn't talk much to avoid attracting attention and we were always alert.

When night fell, we were already near the river.

"I'll take guard duty first.", [name] says quickly.

"Alright", I say seriously. I still didn't like this idea, but I know I can't make decisions for her. "Any strange movement or trouble, call me."

She nods. We didn't have sleeping bags or tents, but the ground seemed like a 5-star hotel after hours of walking. We light the fire and eat again.

"I'd like to chat, but I'm tired. So good night!", Soap says, already lying down, using his coat as a pillow.

"I'm also going to rest a bit, but if there's any problem, call me, [name]. I'm serious!"

"Don't worry, Ghost. Good rest!"

Then I kiss her forehead and lay down.

✧˖°₊

[name]

The forest was dark, and only owls and crickets could be heard. It was starting to get windy, making me a little colder, so I moved closer to the fire.

Looking around, I try to pay attention to any movement or strange sound. Observing the surroundings again, I noticed Soap sleeping and ended up laughing. The man seemed exhausted. His mouth was slightly open, and he breathed heavily. Now I understood why Ghost wanted us near the river. I laughed at the thought.

He was still asleep, but he was completely quiet. Which wasn't strange to me since it wasn't the first time I saw him sleeping. He still wore the mask, but I imagined what his bare face was like under the balaclava.

He was one of the main reasons I kept going. He was becoming everything to me, and that scared and delighted me at the same time. I had never had anyone like him before.

Talking about family wasn't my forte since I didn't know mine. I bounced from orphanage to orphanage as time passed until I reached adulthood. I never told Ghost about this; he didn't ask, and I didn't think it was necessary to talk about.

Snapping out of my reverie, I noticed movement in a bush nearby. I quickly got up, grabbing my gun and cautiously approaching the noise with small steps. Until the culprit of the movement emerged from where it was, startling me.

It was a rabbit and it didn't seem infected. It hopped around and sniffed the tall grass before munching on it. Its fur was white with small brown spots on its ears.

These were one of those moments when we pretended everything was fine, even when it wasn't. But this little creature gave me hope that everything would be okay soon. After a few minutes, I watched it leave and returned to my position near the fire.

Its warmth comforted me along with the gentle sound of the river. I didn't realize the hours passing until I heard Jhonny calling me to switch shifts.

"Good rest, miss."

"Thank you, Jhonny."

I lay down near Ghost, resting my head on his shoulder and enjoying his warmth. He noticed my presence and pulled me into his arms. Then I ended up falling asleep with both of us facing each other, embraced.

✧˖°₊

I wake up in the morning with the sun starting to rise and some birds beginning to chirp. I look to the side and see Jhonny sleeping while Ghost is heating soup cans on the improvised fire.

"Good morning!", I say stretching.

"Good morning! Are you hungry?"

"Very", I say getting up and sitting next to him near the fire.

"Here. It's hot, be careful."

"Thank you!", I take the can of soup and start eating.

"Good morning!", we hear a sleepy voice behind us.

"Good morning, sergeant!", Ghost says, handing another soup to Jhonny.

"I'm starving", Soap says and then devours the soup.

I took advantage of my shift to find the best route to the refuge. Maybe there's just one problem…

"What?", I ask.

"Do you know how to swim?", I didn't know. I mean, I could manage in pools, but I wasn't the world's best swimmer.", I joke, making Soap laugh.

"That'll have to do", Ghost says, looking at the river.

"Please don't tell me the best route you found is through the river."

"Then I won't tell you", he says, laughing as he stands up and looks at the river not far from us.

"Don't worry, miss. We'll help you if you need it."

"Thanks, Jhonny."

"Alright. The river doesn't seem too deep, and the waters seem calmer than yesterday. Let's get ready!", Ghost says, putting his backpack on. Quickly, Soap and I follow suit.

Ghost goes first, entering the water, with Soap following soon after. I descend slowly, testing the depth, and Ghost notices my discomfort, holding my hands.

Reaching the bottom, I let go of his hands and feel the cold water hitting my shoulders. I was trying to ignore the fact that I couldn't see the riverbed because of its dark color.

"Do you think there are any creatures here?"

"Let's find out!", Soap smiles and starts walking.

"Can you manage on your own?", Ghost asks.

"Yes. Everything's fine!", then we follow Soap.

The river wasn't very wide, and on both sides, there were trees upon trees. The morning sunlight gave us a privileged view of it all. If it weren't for the muddy ground making our walk more difficult, everything would be almost perfect.

✧˖°₊

After half an hour of walking, we noticed the river changing. The water that had previously reached my shoulders was now close to my mouth, making it impossible to look forward without tasting that muddy water. Our bodies, which had previously walked at our own pace, were now forced to walk more due to the increasing force.

"Damn. This is getting dangerous.", Soap spoke loudly, as we felt a strong current passing by us.

The water pulled us with force, making it impossible to walk. Desperation took over me when the ground disappeared from under my feet. I tried to swim or at least not sink, but the water was too strong.

In a moment of panic, I let desperation take over as I felt myself sinking completely and water entering my nose and mouth. I thrash around and manage to resurface, trying to catch my breath, but I'm pulled back down again.

I couldn't think rationally anymore. My brain was screaming danger and my lungs begging for air. While my feet kicked trying to reach the ground and my hands reaching for any salvation out of the water. It felt like the water had swallowed me whole and that it would keep me there forever.

I was about to give up fighting for my life and surrender to the coldness around me when I feel strong arms pulling me and then a strong chest behind me.

Ghost had pulled me and was holding my waist, trying to keep my head above water. I gasp for air quickly, seeking comfort. My thoughts started to clear, and my brain clung to the safety Ghost transmitted.

"[name]!", my eyes opened, and I realized we were still in that shitty situation.

"Shit!", I look ahead seeing Soap swimming along with the current.

"LT, it's a damn waterfall!", Soap shouted, making us widen our eyes.

And there was the reason for all this current…

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #cod fanfic

34 notes · View notes

iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife · 4 months

Text

Warning: incoherent rant incoming, BUT i finally watched the undiscovered country ep a few hours ago and oh my fucking god. It definitely could be worse but also if u remove the entire concept from your typical law and order svu dramatiques its just. So so so funny. The Barba baby euthanasia episode is real and it can hurt me . Utterly ridiculous. His dad died fifteen years ago but he also died seven years ago. Six seasons. He was here for six seasons and during those seasons we were told one (1) thing about this mans backstory and they rewrote it. Just like that. Because fuck continuity ig. I can count the amount of times we ve gotten to see barba outside of a work setting, the places we ve seen him go to during those six seasons on my fingers, easyyyy no problem. and one of those times, one of those places is a hospital room. A hospital room where he pulls the plug! He pulls the plug of a babys life support!!! For a woman he barely knows??? Im??? Speechless???! If i could be any animal, any animal of my choice, i would want to be a fly in the law and order special victims unit's writing room, a fly on their wall, during this beautiful, beautiful meeting during which the "barba kills a brain dead baby and quits his job forever" plotline was proposed. Because its genuinely such a baffling idea. And i get it. I really do. They had to write him off somehow, Raúl wanted to go back to Broadway, he had to play the role of a bisexual chess player. Good for him . But they could have written literally anything else. Anything. Something that didn't involve dead babies or dramatic hospital visits. The only thing that can save me now, the only thing that can keep me sane after this mess is getting really really really into chess the musical, just to remind myself the why and that it was all worth it in the end. Also despite my initial intentions, i kept watching s19 after barbas dramatic departure and oh my god. These people are a mess. they have no idea what they are doing. Barba left and everything went to complete and utter shit. Carisi is breaking down and instructing his niece to commit perjury. Cassidy got accused of murder. Benson is hiding a fugitive in her apartment. Its hilarious. These people are hopeless. Its 4 am.

#sorry!!!!!!!! im shutting up now promise.#Al's ramblings #law and order svu #rafael barba #raúl esparza #utterly ridiculous show. im obsessed.

27 notes · View notes

areiton · 6 months

Text

Current Fic Ideas:

Here's my current fic ideas--all of these are up for grabs to whoever wins my @marveltrumpshate auction. (Gonna do these in a few reblogs)

Fic Idea:

Steve and tony are outted by the press 6 months into a healthy happy relationship and it takes less than 2 months for them to fall apart due to the pressure and scrutiny. How they find their way back and manage leading the Avengers is a bit messier and takes longer.

Fic Idea:

Bucky has a one night stand before he goes to war. He goes missing in action and months later, Steve is sent his personal belongings. Including letters from an omega he's never heard of, named Tony, sending pictures of a pretty baby. Bucky's baby.

Steve finds Tony--if for no other reason, than to tell him about Bucky and to meet what amounts to his nephew. But he realizes how broke Tony is, alone and disowned and trying to finish school. Maybe Tony didnt mean much to Bucky--no one ever did--but he smells like home and safety, like everything Steve didn't know he wanted. And Peter fits, in his arms, a way nothing ever has. It's easy, to welcome them into his home, to help them. It's even easier to fall in love.

And then--Bucky comes home, and finds the pretty omega he barely remembers in his brother's clothes and home, and holding a baby.

Fic Idea:

Howard finds Steve in the early seventies. He marries Peggy but she's killed and he's left lost and angry and without any real purpose. Until Howard calls and asks for a favor. His son has been getting in trouble and could use a bodyguard.

Fic Idea:

After Endgame, Steve and Tony are together and life is good but there's the small matter of the cults that have sprung up worshiping them. Because Steve wielded the power of a god and Tony wielded the Gauntlet. And people are trying to process that so cults.

Fic Idea:

Today I'm thinking about that fic I started, in which Tony is an Omega in need of an Alpha chaperone at MIT and Rhodey takes the job. And then, when Howard & Maria die, Bonds with Tony so he can inherit SI and not be forced to Bond with Obie.

So for twenty odd years, it's very common knowledge that Tony Stark is Bonded to his college 'sweetheart' Rhodey, and then--Steve shows up and Tony falls head over heels for him and that's 100% mutual but TONY HAS AN ALPHA OH NOS!

And Tony can't figure out why Steve who is OBVIOUSLY into him won't make a move, even when he's in heat and throwing himself at Steve, until Steve explains, a little confused and a lot conflicted, that he's not gonna steal another Alpha's omega, and James deserves better.

And that's when Tony calls Rhodey from the other room and says, hey baby, do you mind if I break our Bond to get with Steve and he's like, FUCKING FINALLY, DUDE! And Steve finds out that it was only ever a platonic Bond because Rhodey would literally do anything for his bestie.

Fic Idea:

The PR agent responsible for Steve getting a Twitter is also responsible for every time he gets fighty online, which happens every time Tony is insulted. Tony is DELIGHTED he isn't PR's problem child anymore.

Fic Idea:

Tony watches WWII unfolding and knows that something is necessary to help win, so he sends a piece of himself to earth--the Tesseract. And when that's not enough, he falls, giving up his place with the stars, to help humanity.

And then he meets Steve, and uses his fading power--he's dying but he's not going to tell any of them that--to power Project Rebirth. I think probably too he's part of why Steve survives the ice, but I need to work on that.

Fic Idea:

Dragon rider SteveTony AU.

They're from different clans. But they're forced together because of blah blah reasons (oh maybe the dragons are mating?) And Tony loathes Steve who is a big damn hero his father won't shut up about. And maybe he's projecting a little--

He wasn't supposed to Bond with a dragon, he isn't supposed to even be here--but he's never going to live up to Cap's expectations, not the guy who rewrote the rules on dragon bonds and single handily turned the course of the war.

Steve meanwhile cant get a single word out because gosh Tony is pretty and smart and when he rides his dragon--🤯

Their dragons would Very Much Appreciate if the idiot humans would get their shit together.

Fic Idea:

Steve never had a soulmate. Never had a mark. But one night in late may, he wakes up to a burning on his arm and his name in almost illegible scrawl. Howard calls and tells him about the birth of his son the next day.

He goes to see the baby a week later and holds Tony and he can see it, his words too large on Tony's little chest, but he murmurs them anyway. It's terrifying and everything he wanted and Tony is a BABY so he puts the kid down and swears to himself to keep his distance.

But he has a half formed bond with Tony and he doesn't always stay away and then when Tony is two--he's brilliant but talks late--he says 'steeb' at a Christmas party. It's his first word and it completes the bond. Tony grows up with it. He never realizes that they're soulmates.

Because he was so tiny when they bonded and it's all he's ever known and Steve is convinced he can't be with Tony and Tony--wants nothing to do with the nameless faceless person responsible for his words, he just wants Steve.

Fic Idea:

Steve is a successful happy security contractor. He's kinda slutty but that's ok, he's not hurting anyone and he's always honest. And then one day he gets an email that he's pretty sure isnt for him but intrigues him anyway.

Tony is miserable. His company is on the verge of collapse, he hasn't talked to his best friends in years, and his husband is a distant asshole--and those are the good days. He emails a private investigator and somehow ends up contacting a security contractor instead.

isn't a working number, hell it doesn't even have enough numbers--they keep talking. And Steve maybe stops sleeping around because Tony, Tony is fascinating. Tony smiles more, even if sneaking around is dangerous.

And there are things that are…off. little bits of conversation that is just a little bit wrong. Not enough to concern them. Eventually they decide to meet, Tony's husband be damned. But when they go to the coffee shop they agree on--there's no one waiting.

And through the argument and hurt,they finally peace it together. They're in parallel universes.

More THOUGHTS: ok but when they realize this it spooks them both and they kinda retreat from each other. But. They both look, in their worlds. Tony find a Steve Rogers but he died as a little boy. He didn't have a best friend to protect and help him. Steve find Tony too.

He was killed by a buisness rival a few weeks after his father's death. Vanko is still in prison for it, but--Tony is still dead. It terrifies him, losing that Tony without ever knowing him, and it drives him back to his Tony, desperate to know he's safe.

It's heartbreaking because they're so close to each other, but they're universes apart, too, and Tony can't tolerate that. Won't. He's a genius, even if Ty's abuse broke him and made him small, and he's willing to try, if it means making his way to Steve.

#arei writes fic #fic ideas #arei fic's ideas #stevetony #stony #stony fic ideas

38 notes · View notes

opaleyedprince · 26 days

Note

that dorian crest lore post WOAHG

ornrös sounds so cool! and the life steal/healing mechanic is so good....!

i've a few questions if you want to elaborate hee hee 👉🏻👈🏻

1) so the servant went on the mole quest, then the war started where they got their crest but then they defected? (i'm not 100% on the war/crests lore) (i'm interested in when the crest was given to them)

2) were they part of any of the "known" group of ppl who are the original crest bearers (just didn't make it into the official listing bc of their defection)? (the elites/apostles/saints)

3) the konstantinovs are not highly regarded, is that because of the history of the defecting servant and their bloodline basically still repenting for it?

AND 4) when dorian doesn't want to touch skin-to-skin anymore after accidentally activating the crest clinging to his mother, did he accidentally like...steal life from her or? (i feel like that was implied bc the crest is activated through touch but i wanted to make sure i don't misunderstand)

ok done for now 🐾 pitter patters out of here

OOOAAAAUGH thank yooooou thank you thankyou sososo much for this i've been looking forward to answering it since i woke up!!

i'll put my answers under a cut so i can go ham w/them >:3

1) yeah! constantine acquired the crest along with the ten elites and was basically treated as an honorary noble (but still not quite on par with the rest of them!) for a lot of the war. just the act of betrayal weighed so heavily on them that i think they probably begged seiros to kill them and end their suffering after they defected - as if she would let them off that easy after what they did lol. i do think there was something they did that makes their crest a bit different, probably to do with blood. maybe a transfusion or something like that.

2) yes! they were in fact a stablehand that served under blaiddyd, that's the kernel of truth in the story that has been passed down through the family (after the church rewrote history) and rather than be named among the others as heroes, one of constantine's final requests was that the family not be included; thus they are known only as faithful servants of the church and the goddess who were elevated after the war.

3) and yeah! you hit the nail on the head lol - they're more like noble/holy knights than royalty. in fact i think the family ties to the church are so close that members have often served as soldiers at the monastery, and it is customary for the archbishop to meet every new member, be they child or spouse.

4) that is what i was going for yes! i'm leaving it ambiguous whether or not dorian's use of his crest led to her dying; i don't think dorian himself knows the truth. after being rescued, they were both taken to house konstantinov to recover. dorian had a terrible fever, and by the time it broke he was informed that his birth mother had returned to the alliance - without him. whether or not that is a lie, dorian chooses to believe it and has never demanded his father or stepmother reaffirm it; the thought that he drove her away due to his crest is more comforting than the idea that he killed her with it.

#asks #mutual chatter #oc tag: dorian #i hope this is legible i am kind of -always sunny corkboard image-#but tytytyty again for asking me abt him i am always happy to talk djfh

10 notes · View notes

sugdenlovesdingle · 7 months

Text

Here it FINALLY is Tarlos @flufftober day 5: ... +1

this is soooo late and I rewrote it sooo many times and I'm soooo behind on flufftober… but life™ got in the way - you know how it is. I'm going to try get back on schedule over the weekend!

Under Arrest (AO3)

5 times Carlos had to arrest a member of the 126 + 1 time he got arrested himself

---

1 TK

“Reyes, I’ve got one more in holding from the bar fight, can you process him and get rid of him?”

“You mean let him sleep it off in the drunk tank?” Carlos asked his coworker. He hated the overnight shifts on weekends. They were always filled with people getting drunk and doing stupid shit.

“Nope. He’s sober.”

“What? Did you pick him up by accident?”

“Nope. According to the staff he’s the one that started it all.”

“Why would anyone pick a fight in a bar while sober?”

“I don’t know man, ask him yourself, I put him by your desk.” Jackson said and handed him a tablet. “Have fun. I’m taking my break now.” He said and walked away

“Yeah, thanks…” Carlos mumbled and pulled up the arrest record. “Hey are you sure this name is correct?” he called out to Jackson who was on his way to the coffee machine.

“Yeah, it’s what’s on his ID.” He shrugged. “Why?”

“No reason… just… an unusual name I guess.”

“Ah yeah the double name. It’s common in Europe. My wife is from France. Her brother’s name is Jean Pierre.”

Carlos nodded.

“Well… I’ll go process Tyler Kennedy then…” Carlos said and went to pick up TK’s personal belongings before making his way over to his desk.

He took a moment to compose himself. He was a professional, he could do this. He could process the guy he’d hooked up with a few times. No big deal. It’s not like they were a couple. TK had made it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in that.

He dropped the bag with TK’s phone and wallet on the desk next to his face, making the other man look up.

He had a split lip and was holding an ice pack to the side of his face. Carlos suspected someone had taken pity on him and given him the ice pack as well as some range of motion by cuffing his hands together instead of to the side of Carlos’ desk.

“Hello TK. Or should I say Tyler Kennedy?”

TK groaned.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Austin is a small town, TK. If you didn’t want me to know your full name you shouldn’t have gotten yourself arrested. Want to tell me what happened?”

“Not particularly.” TK mumbled. “Isn’t you processing me some kind of conflict of interest?”

“Why would it be? It’s not like we are anything to each other, are we?” Carlos said, doing his best to stay professional and not do something stupid like wrapping TK up in a hug.

TK stared at him for a moment before, reluctantly, starting to explain what he’d done to end up handcuffed at the police station and Carlos began to understand the mystery that was TK Strand a little more.

He tapped his tablet to pull up the right form and made TK sign for his belongings before taking off the handcuffs.

“You’re sober, nobody is pressing charges… so you’re free to go.” He said and watched TK gather his phone, keys, and wallet.

“I’ll see you around.” TK mumbled.

“Yeah. Hopefully not like this. Please get some better coping mechanisms."

---

2 Owen

“Of course sir, we take this kind of thing very seriously.” Carlos heard one of his coworkers say as he walked back into the precinct after his lunch break. He was in a good mood, he’d spent his break with TK at the firehouse and things were getting better between them every day.

They’d planned a date night for later in the week when they both had the day off. Carlos would cook and TK would stay over. Something which was happening a lot more often lately.

The rest of the crew had teased them for acting like an old married couple but they’d just laughed it off.

“Yes sir, I will send a uniform unit to make the arrest and bring him in for questioning. I will keep you updated. Alright. You too sir.”

The coworker ended phone call just as Carlos walked past their desk on the way to his own.

“Reyes. A job for you. You need to pick someone up for assault. Take Mitchell for back up.”

“But I just got back from lunch. I have paperwork to catch up on.” Carlos protested. He’d hoped for a quiet afternoon where he could maybe sneak in a little dinner planning and texts to TK.

“That can wait. Did you not hear that call just now? This guy pissed the wrong people off. You need to go pick him up.”

“Fine. Give me the details.”

“Sent to your phone.”

“Oh… oh no… I can’t do this.” Carlos said when he checked the message. He was breaking out in a cold sweat just by thinking about it.

“And why is that? You’re free, it’s your job… it’s one guy.”

“Yeah… but Owen Strand is my boyfriend’s father.”

“Oh… have you been together long?”

“A few months.”

“Well that’s alright then. It’s not like you’re married. Just go pick the guy up. And hope your boyfriend doesn’t find out.”

Half an hour later Carlos was sitting in his cruiser outside the firehouse, trying to work up the nerve to go in.

“Maybe you could make the arrest?” He asked Mitchell. “I’ll just be back up.”

“I would but… that might make it even worse.” Mitchell said sympathetically. “You just standing there while this bitch of a partner of yours drags his poor old dad off to jail? Not doing anything to stop it?”

Carlos dropped his head forward on the steering wheel.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

They got out of the car and walked into the firehouse. TK was leaning on the rig, talking to Paul and Carlos could tell the exact moment he saw him.

A bright and happy smile spread over his face and he walked up to him to greet him.

“Hey babe, back so soon? Did you miss me?” he gave him a quick kiss hello.

“Yeah… uhm I’m not here on a social call…” he glanced around but of course Owen Strand was nowhere to be seen.

Mitchell lined up beside him.

“We’re looking for Captain Owen Strand.” She said in a serious tone. “Do you know where we can find him?”

“You’ve found him, officer.” Owen walked up to them. “What can I do for you?”

“Carlos what’s going on?” TK asked, confused.

Carlos didn’t reply, just took a deep breath and grabbed the handcuffs from his belt.

“I’m sorry sir, I really wish I didn’t have to do this… but I’m going to need you to turn around and put your hands behind your head.” He said and avoided looking at TK as Owen did what he asked him and let him put the cuffs on him. “Captain Owen Strand, you are under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you do say, can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

---

3 Marjan

“Unit 363H20, there is another disturbance call at former fire station 126. Are you available?”

“Unit 363H20 responding.” Carlos said into his radio, already knowing what, or rather who, he’d find at the location he was getting sent to.

When he got out of his cruiser he was met by an annoyed foreman.

“Officer, we can’t do our jobs like this. She’s destroyed our equipment again and she’s chained herself to the doors. We can’t work like this but I still have to pay my people. She’s ruining our business.”

“I understand sir, but she’s on public property and there is no official order from a judge saying she can’t be here…” Carlos sighed. He’d had this conversation far too many times lately. “I will go talk to her.”

“Can’t you arrest her? For trespassing or something?”

“I’m afraid not. Like I said, she’s on public grounds. You or someone from your company is free to file for a restraining order. If that gets issued and she still comes here, I can arrest her for violating that. I’ll go talk to her now.”

“So if you haven’t done so already, please donate to my fundraiser, together we can save the 126!” Marjan said to her phone, obviously live streaming her entire protest. Again. “And look, here’s Carlos! Say hi to Carlos everyone.” She said when she noticed Carlos walking over.

“Chica we have to stop meeting like this.”

“Oh come on, it’s always nice to catch up with friends.” Marjan said, still filming. “How have you been? You look tired.”

“I’m fine. I’d be better if I didn’t have to pick you up every other day.”

“He’s lying guys. He’s not fine. He got his heart broken and he won’t tell us what happened. His ex won’t either. They’re so stubborn.”

“Ok, that’s enough. No need to broadcast the state of my love life to the entire world. Please stop filming now.”

“Uh oh, he’s serious guys. I better go. But remember, my fundraiser is still open! Please give what you can, and spread the word! Bye for now!” Marjan said and stop her stream.

“Thank you. Now lets go. I hear you’ve put sawdust in the engines again, so they won’t be doing anything today.”

“They have no proof of that.”

Carlos sighed.

“Yeah, just come with me. Show them I’m doing my job. You’ve caused enough trouble for one day don’t you think?”

“It’s called civil disobedience. I’m merely exercising my rights.” Marjan said, a little too loudly so the workmen heard her too.

Carlos decided to let it go and opened the door of his cruiser for her so she could get into the backseat.

“They’re going to get a restraining order against you.” He warned her when he got behind the wheel. “And if you violate that I have to actually arrest you.”

“I promise I won’t do it if you’re on shift then.” She promised and Carlos wondered if that would be better or worse. “By the way can you drop me off at the other firehouse? My shift starts in an hour.”

“You know that’s not how it works, chica. I have to take you to the station and process you before I send you on your way.”

“Right.” Marjan sat back for a second before pressing her face up to the barrier behind Carlos’ head. “Can you turn on the lights and sirens then? If we hurry I might still make it.”

Carlos rolled his eyes but after a moment still flicked the switch and pressed down on the gas a little harder.

---

4 Owen

“Alright, we have to be smart about this. We only have an estimate on how many people will be in there, and they’ll most likely be armed. Be careful, be alert, but only grab the people on the list you’ve been given. Let’s get in and out as quickly as possible without anyone getting hurt.” Carlos’ captain was briefing the team that had been put together for a raid on a bar popular with white supremacists. “We’re supporting the FBI on this so follow their lead at all times.” He stepped aside to let the FBI agent in charge of the operation to address the team herself.

“Thank you captain. I have very little to add to this, other than a slight update to our list of suspects. There are a few more names on there and we’ve pulled pictures from surveillance footage so you know which face goes with the names.” She told them while another agent handed out the updated list.

When Carlos got his and he quickly scanned it, his heart sank.

“Uh… sorry ma’am… are… are you sure this list is correct?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be officer… Reyes.” She glanced at his nametag.

“I uh… I recognise one of the names and I just don’t think he’s involved in anything…” He trailed off.

“I can assure you officer that we’ve checked all of these suspects’ involvement and all of these are people we can charge with dealing in illegal firearms, drug trafficking, money laundering, or being a member of a terrorist organisation. Or any combination of those. So whatever petty criminal you recognise and think belong on there, trust me when I say that they do.”

Carlos nodded.

“Yes ma’am.”

He read over the list again and stared at the picture that went with the name and severely regretted volunteering for this raid. The extra money would be nice but the fall out it would cause was already giving him a headache.

“Alright everyone, let’s head out.” Carlos’ captain said and clapped his hands to get everyone moving.

“Hey…” Lexi Mitchell fell into step beside him and Carlos was never more grateful she regularly signed up for these kind of things. “I saw the list… isn’t that…”

“Yeah.” Carlos cut her off quickly, not wanting the rest of the team to overhear anything.

“Did you know he was into this?”

“No. And he’s not. It can’t be right.”

“You heard the FBI agent…”

“I know. But I just… it can’t be. I know him. He wouldn’t.”

“I guess he would.”

“It can’t be.” Carlos shook his head. “I just have to get to him before anyone else does. Make sure I’m the one to make the arrest.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“I don’t think so. TK and I are not married yet.”

“Alright… it’s your funeral.”

The drive over was tense and when the first officers entered the building, Carlos followed them on auto pilot.

He knew what to do, he’d been trained for this. He knew how to keep a clear head amid the chaos.

Only all of that went out the window when he saw Owen standing near the bar, looking bewildered at the raid being carried out around him.

Thankfully nobody else had seen him yet and Carlos pushed through the crowd or bar patrons and fellow officers to get to him.

“Carlos!” Owen said happily when he saw him, but doing a double take when he noticed the rifle in his hands and the Kevlar vest he was wearing.

“You need to come with me.” Carlos said, grabbing his elbow.

“Carlos what’s going on?”

“You’re on our arrest list. I’m arresting you so nobody else will. Just come with me and do as I say.”

Thankfully Owen was smart enough to listen to him and let Carlos lead him outside.

“Just sit down here. I don’t know how, but I’ll get you out of this.”

“Officer, when you make an arrest, please make sure your detainee can’t hurt you or himself.” One of the FBI agents reminded him and kept watching him to make sure he followed protocol.

“Of course. I was just about to do that.” He grabbed a zip tie from his belt. “Turn around, hands behind your back.” He ordered and thankfully Owen did what he was told and let Carlos secure his hands behind his back.

“Don’t forget to read him his rights. We wouldn’t want the case to fall apart on a technicality.”

“Of course, sir. I won’t forget, sir.” He turned to Owen and mumbled a quick I’m sorry to the man before taking a deep breath. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say, can and will be held against you in a court of law.”

---

5 TNT

“Yes Nance! Come on!” TK braced himself in the back of the ambulance as Nancy raced through the streets of Austin. Lights and sirens going, full speed ahead.

Surely they’d beat Paragon to the scene.

“Ok next right and then we should get ahead of them!” Tommy said over the radio.

It was a little reckless and petty but beating Paragon was worth more than maintaining professional conduct.

“Ok hold on! It’s going to be close!” Nancy yelled and TK had a feeling she just took the corner on two wheels.

“Yes! We’re in front of them! We’re going to get there first!” Tommy yelled excitedly.

Only suddenly another, slightly different, siren joined the two ambulances.

“Is that APD?” Nancy asked over the radio. “I don’t see them in my mirrors.”

“Ignore it, they probably just got called to the same scene as us.” TK reasoned as they drove the last of the way to the scene.

Nancy parked the ambulance and the three of them got out, ready to get to work before the Paragon guys could take charge of the scene.

Tommy started giving out orders, while Nancy and TK grabbed their gear.

None of them even acknowledged the APD cruiser pulling up.

“Captain Vega.” Someone said and Tommy looked up.

“Oh hi Carlos. Did you get called out here too?”

“I did, yes… Do you have a minute?”

“Uh not really, we’re kind of in the middle of something here. You’re going to have to walk and talk with me.”

“Captain Vega I suggest you call for a second ambulance and listen to what my colleague here has to say.” A second officer said as he got out of the car.

Carlos was looking increasingly uncomfortable and like he’d rather be anywhere than here in this moment.

For a minute TK thought he was going to be sick.

“Carlos what’s going on?” he asked.

Carlos cleared his throat and looked at a spot somewhere over Tommy’s left shoulder.

“I uh… Sgt O’Brien and I… have gotten word of some uh… complaints made against you. All… three… of you.”

“Complaints? By who? We’re just doing our jobs.” TK said indignant.

“Let me guess, those Paragon roaches are the ones who complained?” Nancy asked, glaring at the Paragon ambulance that had pulled up and started to get to work.

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information but I’m going to need you to follow my colleague and I to the station.” O’Brien told them. “And I would suggest you go willingly, none of us want to cause a scene.”

“May I ask what these complaints are?” Tommy asked, doing her best to stay calm.

“Officer Reyes, if you please.”

Carlos nodded and pulled a small notepad out of his pocket.

“Reckless driving, endangerment, harassment, and you violated various traffic laws on the way over here.”

“I had the lights and siren on!” Nancy protested. “You can’t pin traffic violations on someone driving an ambulance!”

“I’m sure we can figure it all out down at the station.” Carlos told her. “I’m sure it’s just a big misunderstanding.”

“Oh no it’s perfectly clear. The Paragon assholes just can’t handle us beating them to scenes!”

“Captain Vega, I will ride in the ambulance with you, the other two can go with my colleague in the car.” O’Brien decided, ignoring Nancy’s angry ranting.

“Very well. After you sergeant.” Tommy said, holding out her hand to Nancy for the keys to the ambulance. “We’ll see you down there.” She told TK and Nancy and gave Carlos’ shoulder a quick squeeze in passing.

The three of them watched her and O’Brien get in the ambulance and drive away.

The second they were out of sight, Carlos closed his eyes for a second and let out the breath he’d been holding.

“I am so sorry. He insisted on riding with me today and I don’t know why. I think he’s figured out our connection and wants to test me or something. I couldn’t get out of it.” He rambled.

“Babe, relax.” TK discretely grabbed his hand, trying to remain somewhat professional. “It’s just people using you to get us. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry. I hate this so much.”

“Yeah, us too. But we better get going and head to the station. I don’t want you to get in trouble for not following orders.” TK said and the three of them walked to Carlos’ cruiser and got in.

TK really wanted to get into the front with Carlos but decided it would look better if he was in the back with Nancy. The last thing he wanted was for Carlos to get into trouble because of him.

“We’ll get these stupid charges dropped, and them I’m suing the hell out of those Paragon assholes!” Nancy vowed and if Carlos had lowered the window a little when they passed the Paragon crew, well that was their secret and nobody needed to know.

---

+1 Carlos himself

“Hey baby, where are you?” TK asked over the phone. He was working while Carlos had a few days off, and judging by the constant stream of texts, it was a slow day for the 126.

“I’m just getting a few things for dinner tomorrow night.” Carlos replied, parking his car in front of the store.

“Oh are you at the farmers market?”

“No, I thought I’d try something different. I’m at that Asian supermarket near that new bakery by the park.”

“The one we went to last week? With the good cupcakes?”

“Yeah the ones with the filling you liked. Do you want me to pick a few up for us?”

“It’s your birthday and you’re feeding me cake. What’s wrong with this picture?” TK deadpanned.

Carlos laughed.

“It’s not my birthday yet. So I can still treat my husband to his favourite cupcakes.”

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” TK joked.

“For the cupcakes?”

“Yes. And you’re also really good in bed.”

Carlos choked on air and hoped to god Nancy wasn’t in earshot or she’d never let them live this down.

“Ok I’m at the store now, so I’m going to hang up. I’ll see you at home later.”

“Or you could come down here and keep us company.” TK suggested. “Maybe we can even have some fun in the bunk room.”

“And risk getting caught again? No thanks. Let’s just do that at home.”

“Spoilsport.” TK said and Carlos could picture the playful pout on his husband’s face.

“That’s me.” He said laughingly. “I love you. Bye babe.”

“I love you too baby. See you soon.” TK replied and they ended the call.

Carlos grabbed his stuff and his shopping bag and headed into the store. He liked the place, it was near the place where his old townhouse had been and back then he’d shop there often. Only these days they lived on the other side of town so it was more of a special occasion than a regular shopping trip.

He greeted the woman working the check out and started browsing the aisles. He had a few ideas for the family dinner they had planned for tomorrow, and he figured he’d just decide on what to make depending on the ingredients he could find.

He’d gotten a little lost in thoughts when he bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” He quickly apologised before recognising one of his colleagues. “Oh hi, doing some shopping too?”

“Not exactly.” The guy said.

“Please put the basket down.” Mitchell said, coming up on his other side.

“What’s going on? Lexi? What the hell?” Carlos asked when he glanced down at her hands and saw her holding a pair of handcuffs.

“I could ask you the same thing. Shoplifting? Really?”

“What are you talking about? I just got here. I haven’t even left the store!”

“Oh so you definitely weren’t putting things in your bag that you weren’t going to pay for? And pretend the alarm was going off for no reason when you walk out the store?”

“This is ridiculous. Lexi you know me. I would never steal!”

“Yeah that’s what they all say. You’re coming with us. You know the drill. Turn around hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”

“What? Do you think I’m violent?”

“It’s just protocol Reyes, you know this.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Funny, that’s also what they all say.” Lexi said and turned to the other officer. “Isn’t it crazy how we’re always making mistakes and arresting people who have done nothing wrong?”

“So crazy.” He agreed.

“Come on Reyes, turn around. Don’t make me do it for you.”

“Lexi come on, you can’t be serious.” Carlos said and the next thing he knew, Mitchell had him pinned against the shelves and was twisting his hands behind his back and putting the cuffs on him. “Lexi!”

“That’s officer Mitchell to you. You’re under arrest for shoplifting. Let’s go.” She pushed him out the store and to the cruiser parked outside.

“Lexi, what the hell? I thought we were friends. Why won’t you believe me?”

“The owner saw you. Don’t deny it.”

“Saw me do what? Shop? Pick out things I wanted to buy? Plan a family dinner?”

“I’d stop talking if I were you.” Lexi said, putting him in the back of the car before getting in herself and driving to the station.

“Please don’t make me go in there in cuffs.” Carlos pleaded, looking at the familiar building.

“You know I can’t take them off until I’m done processing you.” She and the other officer got out of the car and opened the door for him. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” She grabbed his elbow and steered him into the building.

Somehow everyone he knew seemed to be on shift and was there to see Carlos get brought in like some kind of hardened criminal.

“Ok. You know what to do.” Lexi said, taking him to the processing area. “Stand here and smile for the camera.”

“This is insane.” Carlos muttered but decided it was in his best interest to cooperate. “At least let me call TK. He’ll be wondering where I am.”

“When we’re done here.” Lexi told him. “Face left and then right.”

Carlos did as he was told while his mind was racing trying to figure out a way to get out of this.

“Alright, I’m going to undo the cuffs and then you can move your hands in front of your body so we can take your prints. Do you understand?” Lexi asked and Carlos nodded.

He let her move his hands and put the handcuffs back on.

“Put your hand on the scanner, four fingers first, then thumb. Repeat with your other hand.” Lexi said and checked the scans. “Alright. We’re done here, let’s go.” She grabbed his elbow again but she didn’t lead him to the holding cells.

“Where are we going? Where are you taking me? Can I call TK now?” Carlos asked but got no reply. Instead she just lead him down a few hallways and up a flight of stairs. “Lexi what the hell?”

She knocked on a door before opening it and pushing him inside.

“SURPRISE!” a group of his friends, family, and coworkers yelled when he stepped through the door.

They were gathered in one of the lesser used conference rooms of the precinct and all of them were smiling and laughing while Carlos was just… confused.

“Happy birthday baby!” TK said, walking over to him and kissing him. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and undid the handcuffs and rubbed the skin where the metal had been. “You didn’t have to put them on so tightly, Lexi.”

“I had to make it look good, didn’t I?”

“You had me arrested?” Carlos asked, finally starting to put two and two together. “You set this whole thing up?”

“I told them to go easy on you.” TK told him. “But do you know how hard it is to pick a date for a party that works for everyone when most of the guests are first responders? This is the closest we got to everyone being free and available and able to get together.”

He looked around the room, slowly taking it all in.

The whole of the 126 crew was there, though all of them in uniform so he suspected they were on call, most of his coworkers, Grace with Charlie on her hip, his parents and Luisa, and even his captain.

“Happy birthday, Carlos. Your husband put a lot of work into making this a birthday to remember for you.” He said and Carlos just nodded.

One by one his friends and family came over to him to wish him a happy birthday and slowly he started to relax and actually enjoy his party.

“Happy birthday. Blame your husband for the show, it was his idea.” Lexi told him when it was her turn. “I promise we won’t put the arrest on your record… but we might just save the mugshot.”

#tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic #flufftober2023 #carlos reyes #tk strand #my writing

17 notes · View notes

trubbishrubbish · 4 months

Text

Happy Last Day of 2023. Here's a long overdue update over how I have been.

As you recall, Jabberwock Genocide Part 2 was uploaded 3 weeks ago. And the only thing I did this whole month of December after Part 2 was uploaded was that I went to Canada to climb a huge mountain and confront my other self because it’s cheaper than going to therapy.

Just kidding, I just worked on more Jabberwock Genocide, nothing else.

This is a positive as I have made so much forward progress in the animation and the upcoming part 3 that you guys won’t have to wait 9 months for more Genocide Jack fun time. However, there is a cost to just working on Jabberwock Genocide, one that I’m currently struggling to find a way to deal with.

Basically, all my free time, focus and thinking has been dedicated to Jabberwock Genocide, but other stuff I do and create I have left to the dust.

My output in making Genocide Jack posts has just stopped.

I keep neglecting to share updates to my Sho Shrine. I am still getting new stuff for it but I have not yet organized it and taken picture of it.

I have barely played any new games. The last game I have beaten that is new was Super Mario Bros Wonder. I loved that game, but I had a hard time sitting down to play it for long sessions as I wanted to work on Jabberwock Genocide.

And tragically, I have really neglected interacting with my online friends. This I feel the most guilty of as I have no excuse for it. I know there are friends I used to talk to a lot before that I have now stopped engaging with for a really long time. If you are one of those people I just to say that I am sorry for ghosting you. I still consider you a friend I don't want our friendship to slowly die out due to lack of communication on my end.

This is my struggle. I love making Jabberwock Genocide. It’s honestly the most enriching thing I am currently doing in my life. I’m creating a story with my favorite character, Genocide Jack. I’m developing my skill as a sprite animator. I’m constantly thinking about how to create a particular scene with the limited resources I have. I get a real kick of joy when I am creating a scene and suddenly an idea comes to mind that I love and I put it in the animation.

I feel so satisfied when the ideas I have for a scene that I see in my head are transmitted into actual animation on my editor. More often then not, what I make in the final product is better than what I imagine in my head. Every single line, every single detail, every single joke, it all feels so amazing to craft them into a video.

It’s crazy to think that just a few months ago, I was at a low point in the animation where all of my motivation was drained and I struggled to make progress for weeks. But now, I feel so freaking happy and elated just thinking about the animation. Heck, even doing really tedious tasks like making every single sprite jump a little is still enjoyable to me. I’ve been working on this project since August 2022. I never expected this to be what is now when I first started writing down ideas. But I am happy the project did turn into this, because I really, truly enjoy working on this.

But… That’s the problem. I enjoy working on Jabberwock Genocide so much that any other hobbies, I find less fun. I rewrote my brain to dedicate huge parts of it to think about Jabberwock Genocide. I’m fully being this attached to a project like this isn’t healthy. I should be consuming different media and doing other activities and talking to my friends. I know this but I find it difficult to summon the energy to do it.

I’m still trying to find a good balance between working on the project and doing other leisure activities that I enjoy doing. I’m going to make this a goal for 2024, it might take me a while to find that balance but I will try to. Hopefully when I do, I can slowly rekindle friendships that I have abandoned.

That’s what I wanted to say. Thank you for taking the time to read this. See you in 2024.

#Kirby's Text Time #Jabberwock Genocide #Sho SDR2

14 notes · View notes

rubyreduji · 1 year

Text

My Heart Has Gone To You | 08

pairing: lee jihoon x f!reader ch notes: return of jealous!jihoon, some angst, fluff between friends, quick mention of sexual acts, y/n and jihoon finally talk w.c.: 2.7k a/n: i made a joke to brie abt having an unhappy ending lol wouldn't that be funny, imagine if i just rewrote the whole ending to make everyone suffer

< prev | m.list | next >

It’s Monday when Jihoon gets the invite to Seungcheol’s Christmas party. Nobody in your friend group is dating anyone and Joshua, who lives with Seungcheol, is accustomed to having Christmas be a family event, so Seungcheol has insisted on having a “family game night” so the whole friend group can be together.

Jihoon has been trying to balance his time between working and taking breaks better but he still contemplates going. He’s not sure who in the friend group knows about the whole situation at this point and he’s a little afraid to run into you before he’s ready to.

He was able to talk to Soonyoung and apologize a few days ago so they were on good terms now and he thinks it would be nice to see all of his friends after being distant for so long, but he’s still hesitant.

It’s not until Soonyoung storms his room and demands Jihoon’s presence at the game night that Jihoon decides fully that he’ll attend.

On Christmas everyone piles into Seungcheol’s house around 2pm, each person bearing drinks or food for the group. Right away Jihoon notes your absence. He also notes the way that Minghao and Sana keep glaring at him and whispering to each other while taking glances at him. Nayeon isn’t as obvious as the other two but she also seems to be avoiding Jihoon and sticking close to the other two.

After everyone finished their greetings and getting food the group sits down in the living room to play a game. The general consensus comes to playing Mafia which is always a group favorite between the group. Seungcheol and Nayeon agree to monitor and narrate the game.

The group plays two games of Mafia before moving on to a game of Jenga and a game of Uno. The Uno only gets half way through though when Jeonghan is caught cheating (big surprise) and Seungkwan gets so upset he flips the table with the pile of Uno cards on it.

It’s around 7pm when everyone starts to break into the drinks. Jihoon isn’t a big drinker so he instead just enjoys how stupid his friends act. The group decides to play Cards Against Humanities which only ends in offensive or sexual jokes.

Jihoon isn’t sure who brings it up but someone suggests playing Paranoia. It’s a game that consists of asking the person next to you a question in secret and they answer out loud. A coin is then flipped to determine if the question is revealed outloud or not.

“Don’t ask boring questions guys!” Momo shouts.

“Let’s up the stakes and we can only answer with the name of people in the circle,” Joshua suggests.

They turn it into a drinking game as well. If someone has to reveal the question it can be bypassed as long as the answerer takes a shot. If they don’t want to answer a question at all they can drink, but then the question will be revealed out loud to hear what the player didn’t want to answer.

The game starts and it’s not too scandalous besides the few raunchy questions that are asked. The questions given to Jihoon by Chan are fairly tame and Jihoon thinks it’s because the male maknae finds the older boy a bit intimidating.

Who do you think is the most annoying? Soonyoung.

Who’s your favorite hyung? Seungcheol.

Which friend is the best dancer? Jihoon knows Chan is hoping he’ll say him. He says Momo instead just to get a rise out of Chan and Soonyoung.

What’s your favorite song to perform? Ruby.

“Y/N.” The name makes his head perk up. It’s Mingyu who’s answering the question.

“Hey Y/N doesn’t count, she's not here!” It’s Seungkwan who’s calling the older boy out.

“But she’s in the friend group!” Mingyu fires back.

“Hey where is Y/N-noona anyways?” It’s Seokmin asking this time.

“Probably with that hot ass guy she’s seeing!” It’s Chaeyoung who yells this out.

“Chae!” Sana’s voice is harsh as she scolds the younger girl. Jihoon’s head whips towards Chaeyoung. What guy is Y/N seeing?

“Noona is seeing a guy?!” Jihoon is glad Chan asks instead of him.

“Yeah! I saw some guy dropping Y/N back off at her apartment the other morning. He’s super tall and muscular and sexy and he kissed her cheek after walking her to the door,” Chaeyoung answers.

“Oh the guy she went on that date with.” It’s Nayeon who pipes up this time. “The one who’s a model for her agency.”

Hyunwoo?!

“Oh yeah, that guy! Y/N is with him like all the time now. I wanted to go get coffee with her the other day but she was busy hanging out with him,” Momo tells the group. “She’s probably with him right now.”

“I mean if had a guy who looked like him fucking me everyday I’d ditch my friends too,” Jeongyeon giggles.

“Can we not talk about Y/N’s sex life,” Seungcheol whines, “especially when she’s not here.”

“I second that!” Sana says with a glare at the group which shuts them up.

Soon the conversation is dropped and they’re continuing on with Paranoia but Jihoon can’t get his mind off the newly found information. It’s been about three weeks since you guys got into your fight and you’ve already moved on. With a tall, rich model at that. His heart clenches at the idea and he knows he doesn’t get to be upset about it but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Jihoon wants to be angry, but he can’t be angry at anyone but himself. You don’t owe anything to him, you’re your own independent person and you guys weren’t even dating. He’s the one who pushed you away.

Right before his turn comes up Jihoon abruptly stands and announces he has to use the bathroom. He heads to the back of the house and into the bathroom. He’s going to stay in the bathroom for a couple minutes and then slip out the backdoor and head home. He knows it’s a childish move but he really doesn’t want to be around his friends anymore and he'd rather go back to his apartment and mope around.

His plan is ruined though because when he opens the bathroom door Minghao is standing right outside of it. “Going somewhere?”

“Leave me be Hao.”

“No, you don’t get to make your escape and go sulk around at home. This is all your own doing Jihoon, and you know that. You need to face the problems you made. You’re going to go back into that living room and you’re going to enjoy your night with your friends.”

Jihoon glares at the taller boy but he doesn’t waver. Minghao knows that Jihoon knows that the only reason he’s even upset right now is because Minghao is right. Together the two boys walk back into the living room and Jihoon takes his seat again. The game of Paranoia seems to have died out while he was in the bathroom and Seungcheol is now trying to put on a movie that everyone will enjoy as everyone lazes around on the floor and furniture.

The movie has barely been playing for four minutes before Seungcheol’s front door is being pulled open. You stand there with a dusting of snow in your hair and Jihoon’s heart stops. You look the exact same as you did three weeks ago, the last time he saw you, but it feels different.

“Sorry I’m late guys, Hyunwoo had to get gas on the way here.”

You knew that going to Seungcheol’s Christmas get together ran the chance of seeing Jihoon, but you knew that you couldn’t ignore your friends just for that reason. You already had plans with Hyunwoo for the afternoon but afterwards your night would be free and you wanted to see your friends.

After your date you have been spending a lot of time together with Hyunwoo. If you guys have hooked up once or twice more after that night, well that’s nobody’s business besides yours and Hyunwoo’s. You spend most of your time just hanging out with the older man though. You find you like his company and he helps you take your mind off the Jihoon situation.

You’re aware that Christmas is a more romantic event but you and Hyunwoo have agreed to stay friends and have no feelings between each other beside the occasional sexual desires. And you know that's what got you into this mess with Jihoon in the first place, but you’re not looking for another regular hookup like you had with your ex-best friend. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone physically close and Hyunwoo lets you indulge in that.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Hyunwoo asks you before you step out of his car.

“Yes, I can handle it Woo don’t worry. If something happens I’ll call you okay?”

“Okay.” His eyes are soft with concern. You didn’t tell him the whole extent of your problems with Jihoon but he knows enough to have come to dislike Jihoon even without properly meeting him.

When you walk into Seungcheol’s house the room is loud but you seem to catch many of your friends’ attention as they turn to look at you. You lock eyes with Jihoon briefly before pulling your eyes away. He is here tonight.

“Sorry I’m late guys, Hyunwoo had to get gas on the way here.” You know it’s petty to bring up Hyunwoo while Jihoon is here, but it is true and it slips out of your mouth without really meaning it to.

“Y/N!” Soonyoung is on his feet first as he bounds over to you to wrap you up into a big hug. “Merry Christmas!” He plants a loud, wet kiss on your cheek and you giggle and hug him back. The tiger obsessed boy is obviously drunk so you just let him kiss your face until more people come up to you.

“Hey you.” Minghao pokes at your side. “How are you?”

You know he’s talking about the fact Jihoon is here. “I’m okay, but we’ll see where the night goes.” You tell him and he nods. You can tell him and Sana won’t leave your side for very long tonight.

“Y/N are you hungry?” It’s Mingyu asking you.

“Hyunwoo and I ate before I came, but thank you!” You answer before grabbing a drink and settling down on the couch between Minghao and Soonyoung. “So what are we up to?”

“We were going to watch a movie, but now that you’re here we should play a game!” Tzuyu says.

“Let’s go back to playing Paranoia!” Chan, who is definitely a little drunk, suggests.

The general consensus agrees so everyone circles back up to start the game. Jihoon finds himself between Seungcheol and Mina.

The game cycles through a few people before your name is being said by Jeonghan. Both you and Jihoon seem to perk up at this. When the coin is flipped it lands on heads meaning the question had to be revealed.

“So what are you saying about me Hannie?” You smirk over at the older boy.

“That I think you’re the best kisser in this group,” Jeonghan smirks back at you. Jihoon clenches his fist which doesn’t go unnoticed by Seungcheol.

“Dude calm down,” Seungcheol hisses into Jihoon’s ear. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two but it's obvious something is wrong. Just go talk to her.”

Jihoon just ignores the game and pouts more as the game continues. The game comes around to you and Jihoon wants to smack Minghao for the way he holds you while whispering in your ear. He keeps glancing over at Jihoon while he does so Jihoon knows he’s doing it on purpose.

You press your lips together for a moment before giving your answer. “Jihoon.” It’s the first time you even acknowledge he’s in the same room as you tonight and Jihoon feels his breath hitch. The coin is flipped and it lands on tails and Jihoon wants to throw a fit. What did you say about him? What did Minghao ask you?

The game fizzles out pretty quickly after that and everyone then submits to watching a movie. It’s a cheesy Christmas movie filled with romance that Jihoon only half understands because it’s in English and he doesn’t want to bother reading the captions.

By the time the movie is over most of the group have fallen asleep or are on their way to falling asleep. You’re still wide awake though and Jihoon watches as you stand and move down the hall to the empty bedrooms. Jihoon finds himself standing and following you.

You walk into Seungcheol’s bedroom and push the door closed. He knows the bedroom is empty because Seungcheol himself is fast asleep on the floor with both Joshua and Jeonghan using him as a pillow.

Jihoon tiptoes over to the bedroom and through the small crack left in the door he can hear you sniffling. Your breathing is shaky and you slump down onto Seungcheol’s bed, your head in your hands. Jihoon finally realizes how creepy he looks and he’s about to leave when you stand and go to leave the bedroom. You come face to face with Jihoon who looks just as shocked as you do.

“Jihoon?” His name leaves your lips for a second time tonight and Jihoon is frozen by your gaze.

“I-, hi Y/N.”

An unsettling familiar feeling runs through you as you and Jihoon sit awkwardly silent on Seungcheol’s bed. It reminds you of how you guys were right before your fight with Jihoon. After you caught Jihoon peeking in on you crying, he asked if you guys could talk. You agreed but neither of you have said a word since.

“So…you’re seeing Hyunwoo?”

The question takes you by surprise a bit. Of course he would be curious but it’s not exactly what you thought you’d be talking about today.

“No. He’s just…being nice. Keeping me company.” You don’t go into more details and Jihoon accepts that’s all he’s going to get out of you.

“Ah.”

You two sit in silence again. You’re sure that at least five minutes have passed and you’re debating on getting up and leaving. After another two minutes you sigh and start to stand up but Jihoon grabs your hand to stop you.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is meek and you almost don’t hear him. “I’ve been a really bad friend to you.”

You sit down. “Yeah…”

“I know I can’t do anything to get you back but I just thought I’d formally apologize. Everything I said to you was…so incredibly wrong. I’ve been dying without you and I should have treated you better. I should have treated everyone better.” You sit still and quiet as he speaks. “I was in a bad place and I just brushed you off when I should have been listening to you. I should have communicated. I could explain everything that led me to that moment but in the end it doesn’t matter, because it’s not an excuse for my actions. I am truly sorry for how I’ve treated you and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to apologize for it. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just wanted to tell you how regretful I am of that day, and everyday leading up to it.”

Jihoon still had a hold of your hand and he’s squeezing it tightly in yours. He’s squeezing almost too tightly but you don’t try to move your hand or say anything to him, you just let him keep holding on.

“I went and saw your photography exhibit at the Showcase. Your photos were…phenomenal. I’m sorry I wasn't there for you.”

You’re not sure if Jihoon is talking about not being at the exhibit or not being there for you to take photos of him. You think that he means both.

“Thank you,” you finally find your voice, “for apologizing. I’d still really appreciated some space from you, but that doesn’t mean we have to completely avoid each other. Small steps.”

“Okay. Small steps.”

taglist: @pandorashbox @calvinkleinhoon @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @crimsonnwitch @d-noona @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @coupsgyus @joonsytip @luvthatleader-nim @wonchansbrooklynn @d0nghyck @stoprunningfornothing @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @vtn-dahyun @honeylovemoon @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @lovelyp3ach @niyizh @cbgisland @kpopandbitchcraft @lorde-oftherings @mashihwan

join my taglist: here!

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fanfic #woozi series #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #svt woozi #woozi x reader #lee jihoon fanfic #kpop fanfic #rru.fics #rru.mhhgty #rru.writes #★ mdni

117 notes · View notes