#Cutthroat Pool | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samkerrworshipper · 11 months

Text

all yours | leah williamson x reader x lia wälti

when r finds out that their two bestfriends (and secret crushes) have gotten together on a trip they go into a meltdown of feeling left out and unloved - lw2 sort them out and show them just how loved they are by the two of them

just fluff, angst, confessions of love, lack of taking care of themselves and zero editing or proof reading because it’s 1am rn and i have to be at school at 8 ☠️

Lia and Leah. The indomitable couple, that had very quickly become the talk of the soccer community. They were a power couple, the swiss and english captain surprising the whole women's football community when announcing their relationship. You were happy for them, the two women were your best friends in the whole world, so when the photos from their recent trip during a international break to Ibiza had popped up you should have been ecstatic, but for some reason you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something else.

The two women were your best friends in the entire world, but you also harboured feelings for both of the women, and now that they were romantically involved you couldn’t help but feel a little bit gutted at the idea that when they returned to Arsenal for the season it would be the two of them together as a couple, and not the three of you as best friends. You were obviously happy for them, sending them a flurry of congratulations and expressions of your happiness about them getting together, but you couldn’t help the feeling in your gut that was almost making you jealous of what the two women had.

You spent the few days left of the break confined to your flat, in too much of a slump to go any further from your bed then to your home gym that was in your spare bedroom.

When the break ended you forced yourself to gather up the guts to return to the Arsenal training ground, pulling together every part of you just to make it to training. When you walked into the change rooms they were already full of your teammates, all of them in various states of undress and engaging in a series of activities. Leah and Lia were the first people to recognise your presence, calling out for you to come and sit with them over near Leah’s cubby, but you ignored them, walking straight towards your own. You didn’t even make it to the locker though before Katie was sliding down on the bench directly in front of you, stopping you from slinging your kit bag into your cubby.

“What’s got you down today, y/l/n?”

Her voice was so playful, everything that you normally loved about the woman, but today you had no tolerance. You’d hardly slept, you’d been too tired to make your morning coffee or breakfast so you were an uncaffeinated grump.

You shoved Katie out of the way, with a quick push, moving her far enough out of your way that you were able to slide your bag into the cubby and begin to strip off your tracksuit and hoodie so you could throw on your training gear.

“Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or was it somebody else's bed?”

It was in Katie’s nature to be annoying, she was one of your best friends, an older sister to you in a lot of ways and normally you had quite a lot of tolerance for her prodding, but today your sleep deprived form wasn’t having any of it.

“Fuck off Katie.”

Your voice was cutthroat, as you tugged your Arsenal hoodie over your head and replaced it with your training kit. You then followed with toeing off the runners you had on and sliding your track pants down your legs, letting them pool at your ankle before stepping out of them and throwing them into your cubby.

“Ooh, she’s fiery today, you can tell me darl, who’s the lucky lady or lass?”

You rolled your eyes, biting down on your tongue to stop you from saying anything seriously offensive to the older woman, for your own safety.

You pulled your training shorts up and then sat down on the bench, pulling your socks and cleats out of your bag.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but nobody, so go fuck with somebody else because you are getting jack out of me this morning, fuck off.”

It was a lot of expletives, something unusual for you. You didn’t like to swear, in fact off the pitch you rarely swore, but today you felt so on edge, so out of place. There were tears brimming behind your eyes, tears that would never fall but burned your eyes all the same. Katie looked like she was going to say something else but Kim became your saving grace, getting in between the two of you and tugging Katie over to her own cubby, leaving you on your own.

You made quick work of your socks and cleats, slipping them easily over your feet, the part you struggled with was your laces, your hands shaking too badly to even get a grip on the fine pieces of polyester. It was embarrassingly humbling, your brain very quickly becoming aggravated at your inability to complete the one basic task. You glared down at your laces, ready to curse them out as well when your hands were grabbed by someone else's. You froze immediately, looking up to locate the source of the hands that were binding your hands from continuing to fail at the task they had.

You frowned a little bit at Viv. Aware, that the older woman probably wasn’t exactly happy with your treatment of your teammate. She didn’t say anything though, didn’t reprimand you, just pushed your hands up to rest on the bench and began the task of tying up your laces.

“What’s up?”

Viv’s words were hushed, so nobody else in the locker room could hear them beside you. Her words were soft, genuine, caring.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

Viv rolled her eyes, finishing your left foot and then moving onto tying up your right one.

“You aren’t very good at lying, jochie.”

Your jaw locked at Viv’s words, watching her finish your left boot, as soon as her hands had left your feet you shot up off the bench, pushing her away as well and marching to the change room door, making your way out towards the training ground before Viv had the opportunity to ask you about your feelings again.

You trained like shit. Your sleep deprivation and lack of energy clear in your actions, you were sloppy, inaccurate and overall just poor in performance. You were approached multiple times by both Leah and Lia, as well as Kim and Jonas, who all seemed a little bit shocked by the shell of a player you were on the field. Before the break you’d been on top of your game, you were unstoppable on the pitch, scoring goals and assists. Your training session hardly reflected that though, on the pitch you looked like a rookie, you were playing like a rookie. You avoided them all as much as you could, especially the couple.

By the end of training you were rushing off the pitch, getting changed as quickly as possible and then getting to your car in record time, avoiding anybody who got in your way.

The couple were extremely shocked by your behaviour, the two of them sharing glances throughout the whole of training and in the change rooms afterwards, the both of them equally perplexed by your behaviour. On the drive home they shared similar thoughts, the both of them were equally worried about you and equally confused about your behaviour.

The next few days only got worse for you. Your lack of sleep and nutrition were affecting you even more and none of the girls came anywhere near you in the locker rooms, having observed Katie, Viv and Beth all be on the flip side of your outbursts when the three of them tried to push you. It wasn’t pretty and you knew that you were getting very close to getting a proper dressing down from Kim, your days were becoming numbered and you knew that if you didn’t pick up your act you were going to get a serious sit down.

You just couldn’t find it in you to care, all you could think about was the two women that had a few weeks ago been your best friends in the entire world. They were everywhere, at training, at team dinner, at team movie night. Everywhere you went they were there, so you found solace in your house which was the only space you had to yourself. The two women had been texting you, calling you, even daring to show up to the door of your flat, spending ten minutes knocking on the door. It had been ten agonising minutes in which you’d buried yourself in your bedsheets, patiently awaiting the two women to lead. Your avoidance had been going reasonably well, you weren’t in their gym group so they didn’t really have an excuse to approach you then, your cubby was on the other side of the locker room and you actively avoided them in training sessions.

It was going as fine as fine could go, you totally weren’t crying yourself to sleep every night thinking of the two women, or scrolling through both of their feeds everyday and looking at the old pictures of you three from merely a few weeks ago. It was all going fine until they cornered you in the locker rooms after a particularly rough training session.

It shouldn’t have been a rough session, Katie had been put on you and she was a rough defender but you were faster and more agile, but not with your sleep deprivation and malnutrition. Every time you got the ball she came at you, laying tackles that you would normally walk off easily, but today it had all hurt more, all been so much rougher. The third tackle had you woozy and unable to walk in a straight line, so you’d been accompanied off the field onto the sidelines where you’d resided for the rest of training.

When training had finished you’d disappeared into the change rooms, hoping that you would be able to slip out before everybody else as you’d done for the last week of training.

Instead though, when you were just finishing getting changed you were cornered by the couple, Leah pinning you down to the bench with her hands so you were unable to get up.

“You’ve been avoiding us.”

You kept your eyes on your feet, unable to look at the soft eyes of the two women.

“I’ve just been busy.”

It was a white lie, one you were sure that the two women saw right through.

“No you haven’t, you’ve been avoiding us and neither of us can figure out why.”

Leah’s words felt like a hot iron against your brain, the words branding into your skull.

Lia’s hand fell to your chin, pulling it up from your feet so you were forced to look at the couple.

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

Leah rolled her eyes at you, the blonde woman not even acknowledging your blatant lie.

“Yes you have, and now you're avoiding it, you haven’t talked to us since before the break and you’ve clearly not been looking after yourself, so what’s up, y/n/n?”

You bit your lip, trying your hardest to pull your eyes from Leah but her hold on your chin making it hard.

“Fuck off will you?”

It was the same aggression you’d been hiding behind all week, the same aggression you’d been using to push everyone else out. It was malicious, cut throat, everything the two women knew you weren’t. You were hiding behind it as a coping mechanism, and they knew it. So whilst it worked at pushing the rest of your teammates out, it did nothing but make them more concerned about you, their hearts clenching at the way your muscles tensed against Leah’s hand and the way your face thrashed against her grip, she didn’t let go though, to scared that if she let go they’d never be able to get you back again.

“You know that I won’t sweet, we care about you too much, so what’s up, tell me, you know you can trust me.”

You shook your head against her hand, burning tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, tears that you refused to let fall, you were on emotional lock down, too scared to let a single one fall, because you knew that if you did it would just end up worse.

“Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off.”

Your words were murmured like a ritual, like a reminder to your brain that you needed to push them out, you needed to push them out so they could stay pushed out of your brain.

“Pushing us out isn’t going to work, bunny.”

Lia’s voice was softer in comparison to Leah’s, attempting to coax you into some kind of comfortable submission that would ice out the anger leaking from your body. She was the water to Leah’s fire.

“I’m fine.”

Leah rolled her eyes.

“I find that hard to believe,” Leah frowned at the little tinge of something roll across your face and her confrontation, “The bags under your eyes tell me that you haven’t slept properly in at least the last week, you’ve lost weight and you were so dizzy early that you looked like you hadn’t drunk water in a month, so you aren’t fine and your hiding it, which means your even less fine, so I’ll ask you once again what’s up?”

You finally managed to free your chin of Leah’s grip, standing up quickly from the bench and almost managed to slip past the two women but one of Lia’s muscular arms managed to catch you around the waist, securely bringing you to her side, holding you down against it.

“Not so fast liebling, Lee asked you a question and you are going to answer it.”

“Nothing’s up.”

It was clear that neither of the women believed you.

“Rightyo then, you’re coming home with us, Jonas’ orders.”

You frowned deeply again.

“No, I don’t have to go home with you, I have my own home, I am a fucking adult I don’t need you two babysitting me.”

You watched as Leah frowned steadily at you, picking up your bag and her own before nodding at Lia who began to tug you along behind them.

“If you want to play this weekend then you will come home with us, you’ve clearly not been taking care of your own health and until you do, you need supervision, call it babysitting if you’d like, I’d call it hanging out with your best friends but whatever works for you.”

You cowered slightly at the passive aggressive tone that Leah used towards you, her voice cutting deeply into your brain, leaving a deep enough impression for you to get the message that this decision had been made for you and you didn’t have a say in what was happening. So you let them lead you to Leah’s car, let Lia buckle you into the backseat and then slide in beside you and didn’t object as Leah started to drive you back towards her house.

Most of your nights and weekends had been spent at Leah’s house, a few weeks ago you two had been inseparable, you’d grown up together, the two of you inseparable Milton Keynes girls. When you’d moved away from home you’d been each other's first roommates, you’d always wanted more but you’d been too afraid to compromise your friendship. Then somewhere along your careers Lia had entered your friendship and the three of you had very quickly become inseparable. There had always been tension between the three of you, drunken kisses shared between all of you, handsy exchanges that you’d always pawned off on the two other women just being touchy. Apparently though they had been more than just touchy for each other, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit left out, like they were experiencing a whole other level of your relationship that only the two of them would feel.

When you’d pulled up to Leah’s flat you’d felt a part of your stomach drop, the anxiety of having to be in a house with the two women setting in and making you feel sick. Lia’s hand had found it’s way to your knee cap, squeezing it slightly. When Leah parked her car the two of them exited the vehicle, Lia apparently being tasked with carrying all of your bags and Leah being tasked with getting you inside.

She’d walked around to your side of the car, unstrapping your seatbelt and pulling you up out of your seat by pulling you up by your armpits. You went limp against her, all of the emotions, all of the angry shields, all of the fakeness and disregard for your general health making you well and truly spent, your body had identified you were no longer in danger, no longer in a space where you had to put up shields and it had come to the conclusion that you now no longer had to do that. So you let Leah man handle you up the stairs, let her tug your shoes off at the door and drag you across her floorboards, until she managed to get to her couch and sit the both of you down on it.

She sat herself down first, getting herself situated on the lounge before laying you down in between her legs, so your head was resting steadily against her chest. Your body still in its mellowed out state, your brain floating in a sort of haze that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Eventually Lia rejoined the two of you, freshly showered and dressed. She came bearing three cups of hot cocoa and slotted herself in between Leah’s legs and my own, criss crossing on top of my feet. The pressure felt good, relaxing, and calming. Lia passed me one of the ups and I took a tentative sip, the feeling of the warm chocolate slipping down my throat, nothing besides complete divinity.

“So, what’s really up, hm?”

Lia’s voice was as soft as silk, gliding through the room and falling gently upon your ears.

“Nothing’s up.”

Your voice was gruff in comparison, nothing close to anything that was happening in this room, your tone felt out of place, just like you felt in between the two. Like you were an unfit jigsaw piece.

“Honey, I don’t know why you feel like you need to lie to us, but you don’t, whatever it is we can sort it out, you know that we’d never judge you right?”

Lia’s words were so soft, so smooth, so calming and yet they did absolutely nothing to calm the feelings inside your soul, the feelings of complete yearning for the two women that now seemed completely forbidden.

“It’s stupid.”

You felt Leah’s head lean over your own, looking down at you from her place from above you, one of her eyebrows raised in questioning.

“Nothing you feel is stupid, bunny.”

The nickname bunny came from when you and Leah were kids. You’d been a fluff ball as a kid, a fluffy ball of blonde hair that had somehow ended up with Leah nicknaming you bunny. It had somehow stuck throughout your teenage years and your years at Arsenal, as much as it riled you up.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You felt like a kid, with the two women looking down at you as if you were their child.

“Too bad, we are. Whatever it is has clearly taken a massive toll on your health and wellbeing and we can’t have that. It helps to talk, so talk to us, talk to us like you did a few weeks ago.”

You pushed yourself out of Leah’s arms, standing up in her living room and beginning to pace in front of the two women, your heels digging into the material of the carpet.

“You want to know what’s up? You two go to Ibiza for a week, a trip I would have gone on if I didn’t have family commitments. You come back and the two of you are fucking dating, you didn’t tell my anything, I didn’t even get a fucking phone call to say, guess what your two bestfriends have gotten together. It’s messing with my head, because we were all touchy and handsy, we all made out with eachother and I pawned it off as the three of us just being close, but turns out it wa just the two of you and I’m a fucking third wheel and now I just feel like you’re tugging me along because you feel bad for me, not because you actually give two shits about our friendship.”

Leah’s arms stopped you from pacing, making you realise that tears were now slowly dipping down your face at a steady rate. Leah tugged you back down into her arms, wrapping them both around you to secure you to her chest.

“Bunny, bunny, take deep breaths for me, it’s okay.”

You shook your head against her body, thrashing and pushing against her grip but she refused to let you go, not when she now knew how much she’d hurt you now.

“It’s not fine, it’s not fine, you two love each other and I love you both but you don’t love me, you don’t want me, not how I want either of you, not how I feel for either of you.”

You felt Leah take a deep breath from behind you, her own tears nor brimming in the back of her eyes, now beginning to feel the true depth of her and Lia’s actions.

“Bunny, we both love you so much, more than you would ever know and I’m so sorry you’ve felt this way, I’m so sorry that we never communicated anything with you. Me and Lia, we love you, we’ve always loved you, hell I’ve loved you since we were 5. The last few years, we’ve been trying so fucking hard to get you to realise, to get you to understand the magnitude of how much we love you. But you never did, the drunken kisses, the secret glances and touches, we thought it was all platonic for you and after a while, the two of us began to think that we were waiting for nothing, so in Ibiza we bit the bullet, we decided that we couldn’t wait around for a person who didn’t reciprocate our feelings. I am so sorry we never saw it, I’m so sorry that neither of us were confident enough to just ask you the question, but we’re going to work it out now, we’re going to make it all work out, I promise you.”

Your body relaxed fully against Leah’s, all the fight disappearing as Leah’s words sunk into your skin, stretching across your skin like a layer of silk.

Lia clambered her way up the sofa, squishing you between Leah and herself and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Liebling, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to sort this out, and Leah and I, we are going to spend every day making it up to you, everyday proving just how loved you are, ich verspreche.”

Everything fell into place for you, maybe everything wasn’t perfect right now, maybe there was still a lot of things the three of you had to work out, but you didn’t feel out of place anymore between the two women, you felt perfectly in place, like your jigsaw piece had finally feel into place.

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #lionesses #marry me rn #lia walti #leah williamson is mother #leah williamson is mom #leah williamson is boyf #golden retriever leah vibes #i love leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader x lia wälti #lia wälti #lia wälti imagine #lia wälti x reader

770 notes · View notes

little-star-library · 6 months

Text

“I thrive off of sexual tension. I love a mutual eye fuck in public.” -unknown (but I found this very fitting with Astarion and I couldn’t help but start imagining things)

Just imagine Astarion’s striking red eyes piercing you with a lustful stare. A shiver runs down your spine and yet you feel your body burn with the heat of a rising blush spread over your skin. He has you hypnotized by his gaze and you almost want to look away, but your mind keeps you from doing so as you take in his aura.

There was no doubt that there was a spark of chemistry between you both in the way that you would playfully flirt with one another or how you would spare each other longer glances that were much more than friendly. No matter what was happening or how you spent your time with him, he had you under his spell with that cutthroat charm and the most melodic voice that always made you melt on the inside whenever he spoke.

As you stand only feet away from him in camp with your feet frozen to the ground, you try your best to match his observance in silent acknowledgment. He smirks knowingly across the way at your response and you loathe him for how calm and collected he appears. His eyes rove over your figure clad only in your linen shirt and trousers, which in turn made you feel too exposed as if he was mentally undressing you and you knew that he probably was.

You can’t help but let your mind wander and your eyes reciprocate his action, fantasizing about how you would strip him bare and kiss every inch of skin that was revealed to you as you went. You thought about what his lips might feel like when he captures you in a passionate kiss, full of teeth and tongues while he stole your breath with every stroke of his tongue across yours and every little nip of his fangs to prick your bottom lip and lick at the blood that would pool to the surface. You imagined how he would tease you with his tongue and fingers in other places and making you squirm in his arms while whispering sweet praises in your ear until he couldn’t resist the urge to take you right then and there. You dreamed of how he would fuck you in multiple scandalous positions and how you would obey his every command just to have the honor of feeling him stretching you open over his large and swollen cock.

All the while he is unmoving from his post by his tent, thinking of equally improper things. But as you snap back to reality, you fix your eyes onto Astarion once more and as soon as he makes eye contact, he gives you a devilish wink and walks away with a satisfied laugh under his breath.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dungeons and dragons #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x y/n #little star library

146 notes · View notes

blackcherryvelvet0909 · 1 year

Text

Prized Shrimp (Floyd x GN!Reader)

Note: Happy (early) Birthday to @floydleeches . I love you with all my heart <3 <3 <3 Thank you for making my life better than it's ever been before.

You honestly didn’t know what to expect. Volleyball wasn’t the most cutthroat sport - even so, you worried about the teams that made up the game. There were two in total, each student separated into one or the other via a sort of raffle. You supposed it was better to draw sticks than have everyone fight over who was on what team. Maybe Coach Vargas did have a good head on his shoulders…was that bad to say? It didn’t matter either way. It’s not like anyone could read your thoughts - well, you don’t think.

You brushed aside the troubling thought in favor of watching the game. As of now, the score was set at a tie. It was anyone’s game - it was so close a small audience had gathered to watch. Aside from a brief timeout due to a wayward strike thanks to Kalim - he almost hit a professor! - everything seemed to be going well. From behind you, you could hear several of your fellow classmates exchanging bets. You glanced to the side to see that even Lilia was getting in on the madol pool. Silver was too far into dreamland to stop his father, and Malleus was too preoccupied by his ice cream.

“Would you like to place a bet, [y/n]?” Jade startled you a bit, having appeared beside you from nowhere. In his hand he held a silver platter, stacked high with madol. Though his smile was courteous, you spied a glimmer of mischief in his eye.

“No thanks, I’m good,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’m just here to watch.”

“Very well.” You were surprised Jade relented so quickly; perhaps he knew your answer from the very beginning, but a certain octopus insisted he offer. As he stood, Jade turned his attention to the game. “Out of curiosity, who do you think will win?”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” you admitted. You watched as Ace, who was stuck on Rook’s team, knocked the ball over the net. “It’s a pretty close game. I never knew Rook could lead a team so well.”

“Like me, he is a vice housewarden,” Jade commented. “It is a staple for those in such a position, and higher, to have leadership skills. A level head is also required,” he chuckled as he glanced over to the left with a smirk, “though I’m afraid not everyone is perfect.”

You followed the man’s gaze over to someone you didn’t expect to see: Idia. He sat next to Ortho on a large blanket laid out across the sand, the hood of his jacket pulled tightly over his head. His little brother’s eyes sparkled as he cheered for his fellow students - knowing him, he held no team preference. You supposed Jade referred to Idia, not Ortho, when he made that statement. I mean, Idia’s dorm hadn’t spiraled into chaos yet, so he must be doing a good job. …But how much of that was Ortho’s doing? You felt kinda bad for how little faith you held in Idia’s capabilities in that brief moment.

“How many bets have we accumulated?” You looked over your shoulder to watch Azul approach the two of you. He wore a straw sunhat - it looked to be of high quality. So the head had gotten to him. Floyd wasn’t pulling your leg when he joked about it earlier.

“Thirty,” Jade replied to his housewarden. “I just stopped to have a brief chat with our favorite prefect before I went to fetch more.” Should you be worried about being their favorite? Possibly.

You witnessed the almost evil smirk that spread across Azul’s face. “Very good. Thank you, Jade.” Jade gave a small nod before he wandered off to collect more madol. He barely made it a few steps before he was stopped by a few first years, each adding some amount of madol to the silver platter. Well, you hoped it was worth it. Your attention was dragged back by Azul as he sighed.

“Hot, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you took a big sip from your water bottle. “I heard it’s supposed to be the hottest day of the week. I’m happy I bought that extra protective sunscreen the other day - I don’t want to end up like a lobster.”

“I agree.” The housewarden suppressed a laugh as he added, “Like Riddle the weekend before.”

You winced at the memory. You first heard it from Ace and Deuce, but their words did Riddle’s state no justice. The poor guy…you were glad he recovered the other day. You couldn’t imagine how painful that was. “Leave him alone,” you lightly scolded. “You’d be worse off if you were sunburned. Floyd told me about the time when you got sunburned when you were-”

“And I’ll demand you stop there,” Azul hissed. He now glared daggers into Floyd, who paid him no mind as Leona served the ball and slapped it over to his side of the sand. “May I remind you we’re in public?”

“Yeah, I know,” you retorted. “So just as Riddle wouldn’t want you laughing about him getting burned, you wouldn’t want me or Floyd telling everyone about that little incident from your childhood.”

To blackmail the blackmailer was a tricky game - one you had mastered through trial and error. Thankfully you garnered a few pointers from a certain eel in the past to make the process easier. Azul nearly pouted as he crossed his arms and avoided your gaze. “Fine.”

Before you could say another word, whether mock or further reprimand, you heard Rook yell out, “Floyd!” It was so odd to hear Rook refer to the second year by his name; it certainly caught not just yours, but everyone else’s attention. You focused back on the game just in time to watch the volleyball hurtle straight for Floyd. The eel grinned as he jumped up and spiked the ball, saving his team from a sure loss if the volleyball had hit the ground. The hit was so powerful it shot back over the neck with lightning speed. Though Leona, Deuce, Jack, and their other teammates tried to hit it back, it was no use. You watched in awe as the ball slammed into the sand over the drawn line of Leona’s side of the court.

Vargas blew his whistle the moment the ball made contact. “That’s the game!” he announced.

Before Vargas could even declare the obvious winner, Rook, Ace, Floyd, and their comrades erupted in victorious hollars. Though each teammate congratulated the other, it was clear who was the star of the celebration. Floyd received pats on the back, punches to the bicep and shoulder, and even a few side hugs. When Ace came up to give him a high-five, Floyd instead hoisted him up in his arms and spun him around like a ragdoll. Instant regret on the redhead’s part. You watched as he almost melted down to the sand once Floyd released him, lying face up on the ground as he tried to get his bearings again. No harm in going to help the poor guy out.

“You okay,” you asked through a laugh as you stared down at Ace.

“‘M fine,” he practically garbled. He blinked a few times - when he could see straight, he noticed the hand you offered out to him. He took it and you helped him up. He shook his head as he got back on his feet, mumbling, “Seven, I hate when he does that.”

“He does that a lot?”

“Whenever we win a game in basketball, yeah.” Ace’s gaze flicked over to the left; as you followed it, you saw Deuce headed in your direction. That shit-eating grin that was so, well, Ace Trappola was back as he teased, “How’s it feel to be on the losing team?”

“Not that bad,” Deuce shrugged with a smile. Ace seemed a little disappointed by the answer. Aww, poor thing couldn’t rub it in Deuce’s face. What a shame. “You guys played really well!”

Rook heard Deuce’s praise, he couldn’t help but turn in his direction and give a little bow. “Merci, Monsieur Spade! Your team played most beautifully as well. The way you dove to bounce back the ball at the beginning, how Roi des Lions lead your flock with such grace - and how mighty Fler-a-bras’s form throughout! Ah!” Rook swooned, one hand on his heart and the back of the other pressed to his sweaty forehead. “Ravissant!~

Ace leaned over to you to whisper, “I’m gonna vomit if he keeps going.”

“Soooo, what’s our prize?” Your mind spun with how much your focus was being tossed to and fro. It was dizzying how many people were talking to you and around you all at once. Even so, you managed to direct your attention to Floyd, whose question was directed to Vargas. “We gotta get a prize, right?” A few of his other teammates perked up their ears - human, beastman, merman, and fae alike - at the mention of a reward for their hard work. They, including Ace, made a little huddle around Floyd, all eyes now on Vargas.

“Of course!” the coach affirmed. “You all get a prize for your hard work.” Now even the losing team was paying attention. Leona stopped his stride away from the net (not everyone could be a good loser) to listen; Jack stalled in wiping the sweat from his nape. Vargas wasn’t really one to give out consolation prizes to the losers, so this was a rare treat indeed! “The prize is…” Vargas paused for effect - every head, from audience to teams, craned forward in anticipation.

“The valuable bond you established with your teammates!”

Fucking really?!

That was the thought you shared with almost everyone in attendance. Even the staff who watched on the sidelines (minus Crowley - one could only guess where he was) gave Vargas a collective bombastic side eye. The coach seemed to not fathom why everyone was so disappointed.

“That’s some bullshit, dude,” one student complained from within the large group of - now former - volleyball players.

“Language!” At least half of those students, some even from the audience, collectively shrunk back at the sound of Trein’s commanding voice.

“This was a team exercise,” Vargas said in his defense, hands on his hips. “I will be sure to give you all extra credit for your efforts once we return to campus.”

“Laaaame,” Floyd groaned. “I want something better! You don’t have food or some cool sh-stuff or something?” Nice save, you thought.

“If you mean give you junk food or some other thing to rot your muscles, that’s a no, Mr. Leech.” You were sure the term was ‘rot your brain’, but okay. Sure.

Though Floyd seemed to relent, although reluctantly, other students continued to argue. Ace was among that throng; Rook and Jack seemed okay with the outcome, while Sebek busied himself with seeing if Lilia and Malleus needed anything. Leona was long gone to some other part of the beach, Deuce himself now collapsed on his own towel. You turned to see Jade passing out madol to those who won their bet, while Azul smiled gleefully as he explained again and again the terms of the bet to ruffled losers. Of course, you supposed Azul had betted on Floyd and was very happy to reap the spoils. If it were the other way around, he’d have turned the rules in his favor. You were honestly surprised Divus and Trein had nothing to say about the gambling.

All this distraction around you caused you to miss the grin that creeped up Floyd’s lips. Sharp teeth glinted in the sun as his heterochromic eyes focused on one thing - one person. He glanced back at Vargas and asked, “Coach, if I find a prize I want, can I get it?”

Ignoring the several students that still tried to plead their case, Vargas shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so.” He jutted his finger in Floyd’s direction. “But if I catch you eating junk, you’re doing laps around the campus for a week!”

“No problem~” Floyd crooned, no longer looking at the P.E teacher. He’d set his sights back on his chosen prize - his prey. “I’ve got juuuuust the thing I want.”

You were about to go and check on Deuce, who was currently pouring water over his head, when you were suddenly hoisted into the air. A shrill yelp ripped from your throat as your stomach flopped at the quick rise of your body. Two large hands held you up, gripped under your arms as you were held up like a dog - or a little beast you messed with sometimes. “My prize is Shrimpy!~” Floyd declared from behind you with glee. He paid no mind to the way you flailed once you realized just who had you in their grasp. “They’re not junk - not for me, anyway.”

“Floyd, put me down!” you begged.

“Nnnnope!” Floyd giggled as he turned you around to face him. “Look at you wigglin’ around. So cute! We’re gonna have lots of fun, Shrimpy~” Floyd peeked over your shoulder to make eye contact with Vargas. “Right, coach?”

You strained your neck to look back at Vargas. Your eyes silently pleaded with him to tell Floyd to put you down. That was not what you got. “Mhn,” he shrugged again, “I’ll allow it.”

No mercy for you, it seemed. Next thing you knew, you were tossed over Floyd’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around your waist as he began to carry you away. You looked about to try and find someone to help you. Rook wouldn’t - he’d be more likely to join in on the fun than anything. Ace was too preoccupied with trying to convince Vargas, more likely digging himself into his own set of laps. Deuce seemed to now be fast asleep, and Jack was nowhere to be seen. Jade and Azul would certainly be of no help, and the other teachers were too focused on keeping the rowdy losers - betters and players alike - under control.

As you and Floyd began to pass a dark green towel, shielded by a humongous umbrella, you thought of your last hope of escape. Malleus! There was no other man willing to protect you. Your gaze soon beheld the tall fae, so already sat on his knees on the towel, looking ready to bolt up and take off after you. Your eyes met, chartreuse to [eye color], and you thanked the Seven that there was clear determination within those slitted orbs. But then you spied Lilia grab Malleus by the wrist, hold gentle yet firm. The older fae whispered something into the prince’s pointed ear - to your horror, he sat back on the towel.

“Malleus??” you whisper-yelled. The only answer you received was the most pitiful apologetic look that ever graced his elegant features. Lilia, on the other hand, smiled gaily and wiggled his fingers in a goodbye. His expression was almost mischievous, in a way - like he knew something you didn’t. Silver just roused from sleep from behind him, and Sebek paid you no mind as he lectured the young man for his sleepiness. You realized it then: There was no help coming for you. You weren’t necessarily scared…nervous was a term, however.

“What should we do first, huh, Shrimpy?” Floyd asked. Was he actually giving you options? “We could go eat, make sandcastles, do some diving, wrestle around,” he paused, and you could practically hear the smirk upon his face, “ooooorr we could go swimming~”

“I-I’m actually kinda hungry.” As if to help your cause, your stomach growled just as the word ‘hungry’ left your lips.

“Awww, is your tummy rumblin’?~” Floyd cooed. “Okay, we’ll go get something to eat!” Floyd abruptly turned in the direction of a food and drink stand at the edge of the beach. You were flung almost violently, becoming a little dizzy as you settled against his upper back again. “After that, we’ll go swimming!”

“Sandcastles sounded nice though…” You were honestly just trying to stall the inevitable.

“Yeah, but swimming’s more fun! We can even play hide and seek.” You glimpsed the razor teeth that made up Floyd cheerful, yet menacing smile. “I’ll be the seeker~”

Of course he would be. Well, at least you’d get a last meal out of it. Better make it a good one. Hopefully it won’t be so bad…to have that time with your weird, longtime crush was nice.

231 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 2 years

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Enemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Master List

...........................................

After a brush with death during a successful flight mission, Lieutenant Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw decided to hang up his wings in favor of chasing a new dream. A few beers and one game of pool later, he'd convinced his wingman Lieutenant Jake 'Hangman' Seresin to join him.

The pair burst onto the political scene with more charm and charisma than a Kennedy. They're young, single, and full of personality. Running as Independents, the pair defied the odds and secured a presidential nomination with serious traction but need help to make their dream a reality.

Enter Y/N Wiseman, who grew up in D.C. and has been involved in politics her whole life. As the only daughter of two senators, she knows what it takes to make it on Capital Hill.

At 29 years old, she's made a name for herself as a campaign manager, but she's itching to make the jump to the White House as a Chief of Staff.

Ms. Wiseman is a take no prisoners, no nonsense, powerhouse. She could run the world in heels. She saw the glass ceiling and shattered it. She may be young, but she's cutthroat and confident.

She's hired by the two independent newcomers who are in over their heads with the promise of being named Chief of Staff if she can get them in the Oval Office. She has her work cut out for her, to say the least.

Can she take this ragtag pair and turn them into the leaders the country needs? Or will her stubborn temper and hard head cause her to burn in when she goes toe to toe with the very man she is trying to get elected?

Coming Soon

Prologue

Join my Tag List so you never miss an update

Tagging some who might be interested: @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @sebsxphia @withahappyrefrain @hecate-steps-on-me @teacupsandtopgun @phoenixssugarbaby @gretagerwigsmuse @sunlightmurdock @thedroneranger @topguncortez @seresinsbabe

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #lt. bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun rooster #top gun smut #tgm smut #tgm fic #tgm #tgm fanfiction #top gun 2

467 notes · View notes

books-and-ivy · 6 months

Text

Introducing the Jekyll Estate staff

- Mrs. Jessica ‘Harpy’ Harpshire is Jekyll’s tightly wound and stiff-lipped housekeeper. Hired shortly after Poole, Mrs. Harpshire has been well acquainted with the Jekyll family since Henry’s boyhood. She has seen it all, and subsequently knows how to keep things in order… even without the presence of her beloved husband John. Deemed ‘the Harpy’ by Bradshaw, she is respected and feared by nearly all of the staff (Poole being the only exception).

- Mr. Steven Poole is the eldest and most tenured member of the staff. Poole has performed many roles within the house over his twenty years of service as head butler and valet to Dr. Jekyll and his father. Loyal to a fault, Poole will see to it that his master’s house and reputation is kept in perfect condition, come any trial that may arise.

- Mrs. Lillian Davies is Jekyll’s cook and head laundress. After severely injuring her leg in an east end wash house, Mrs. Davies found herself and her three children in desperate need for work and shelter. Enter Dr. Jekyll. When she is not in the kitchen preparing for lavish dinner parties or ensuring the master does not starve himself to death, Mrs. Davies spends her time instilling her values of hard work and integrity to her children.

- Mr. Niles Bradshaw serves as Jekyll’s footman and unofficial jester (much to everyone’s dismay). Jovial and charismatic, Bradshaw ensures that the house is never entirely quiet. His good looks are readily used to incite the attention of any woman he encounters, but unfortunately for him, never quite seem to catch the eye of the one person he actually wants to notice him…

- Ms. Valentine Davies is the youngest member of the staff at 15 years old, but her age is hardly noticed in the wake of her shining character and determination. After working several years under her mother’s tutorage as a scullery maid, Valentine worked herself through the ranks to become one of Jekyll’s housemaids. Kindhearted and empathic, Valentine is quick to endear herself to nearly everyone she encounters.

- Ms. Emily Waller is Jekyll’s infamously levelheaded chambermaid. Having come from several houses prior to working at No. 28 Leicester Sq, Emily has learned how to thrive in the cutthroat world of service, even if it is to her detriment. She is quiet, wise beyond her years, and knows far more than she would ever dare to say aloud, even to her friend and coworker Valentine.

#hiding in plain sight #jekyll and hyde #digital art #salt and light #ocs #dr jekyll and mr hyde #Poole #Victorian staff #jekstaff #Bradshaw #original character #victorian maid

62 notes · View notes

frustratingfantasy · 11 days

Text

Flyboy | Chapter One

Chapter Two

Prologue: You moved to San Diego for a fresh start. You never imagined your best friend Natasha would end up there on deployment. When she asks you to come meet her at the bar, you weren’t expecting to meet a pilot who would send you home so flattered.

(This is gonna be pretty much all fluff but who knows, things may escalate later on. I’d like for it to become a multi chapter slow burn).

Roller skating the beach was always your favorite thing to do. The side walks always so smooth. The warm salt air hugging you as you fly. You got a call from Natasha about an hour ago telling you to come meet her at a bar nearby. She just got into town on her assignment. Funny how you’d end up living in the town that she would get called to for her first real mission.

She had been your longest friend. Admittedly your only friend. Somehow managing to maintain the relationship through all the shifts and changes in life. You kept her informed of all the dreams you’d chase and hearts you’d break, and she kept you updated with profiles on all the new characters she’d meet and struggles she’d face in her endeavors. You were excited to see her.

As you rolled up to the bar you gave a good look to the bronco out front. You always had a soft spot for classic cars. Popping off your skates out front and slipping on some flops, you headed in. Music playing, people cheering, drunks falling. Maybe you got here a little late, you feel anxious. Dealing with intoxicated people was always easier if you started at the same time as them.

“Y/n!!” You hear a familiar voice and immediately start scanning to your left. “Hey!” Nat emerges, pushing her way pash a group of guys singing. The piano is roaring, someone really knows how to play.

“Oh my gosh I’ve missed you!” You squeeze her tight. “Wow captain, check out that sexy uniform.” You wink and salute her. Nat pushes you playfully.

“Let’s get you a drink, then I’ll introduce you to the crew I’ll be dealing with for the foreseeable future.” She turns.

You follow Nat to the bar, noticing the music die down and the jukebox turn back on. You turn to Nat, “You know I get anxious meeting new people, maybe I’ll just hang out at the bar for a little.”

“Oh no, you’ll fit in just fine with this group. As if the y/n I’ve known has ever been short on personality.” Nat grabs her drink and your elbow and starts dragging you off the barstool. Approaching a group of naval uniforms and one.. Hawaiian shirt?

Introductions were made, you taking mental note of one Bradley Bradshaw. You were terrible with names, but somehow this one you doubt you’ll forget, it rolled off the tongue quite nicely. After shaking hands and giving head nods, a tall blonde walks up behind Bradley. An introduction coming your way that Nat didn't get around to, or maybe didn't care about.

“I believe you saved the best for last Pheonix,” he pushes pash Nat with a strong arm outreached your direction. Which you take to shake, and he pulls into kiss. “Names Jake Seresin, call name Hangman.”

”Thaaaaaaats a bit more than I needed for a friendly introduction,” you say as you pull back your hand smugly. Nat chuckles in your direction. “I haven't played pool in a while,” you say raising an eyebrow at Nat.

“Girls vs… boy?” Nat says as she looks around, but hangman seems to be the only one interested in actually playing a game. Rooster back at the bar, and everyone else scattered in conversation. So you agreed to a little cutthroat.

“This ought to be good, hangman, think you can take on both the ladies at once?” Rooster crows as he walks back our direction, handing you a drink, he must have noticed you finished your first one. You felt a little flustered as you took it from his hand. He didn't ask if you wanted another one, nor told you he was getting you anything.

Hangman smirks, “ive always been a ladykiller Roos,” he turns to you, “ladies first.”

A scoff comes from Rooster as he goes to drink his beer. Immediately you show competence by breaking with some good force. Pool balls bouncing off every end of the table. You find yourself immediately looking at Bradley, whose one eyebrow you see raise from behind those aviators. Handing the stick to Nat and waiting your turn, you take the seat next to Bradley.

“Do all pilots wear those sunglasses?” You ask.

“They make us faster,” he answers in a playful mannor, “You grew up here?” He asks.

You give a little insight into your life and how you ended up in San Diego as well as get a little intel on the handsome pilot before returning to your game. You immediately start putting pressure on hangman, who guaranteed he’d win.

“So you wont mind agreeing to buy the entire bar a round of drinks if you lose? Since youre so sure youre going to win anyways,” You ask Hangman.

He looks around to the increasingly crowded bar, “Okay. But when you lose, I get a date.” He smiles and leans over the table, handing you back the pool stick.

“HA,” Nat laughs, “She’ll win out of sheer willpower now hangman.”

“Deal,” You agree with a smile. And in no time, you win.

Rooster yells to penny who rings the bell and announces the good news. Everyone cheers. The boys immediately start poking fun at hangman. You laugh and take back your seat next to Bradley. “Good job kid.” He gives you a wink, glasses low on his nose. Butterflies in your tummy? It’s been a while since youve had that feeling. You heard a little bit about him from Nat. All good things, he was a gentleman. She would never consider mixing romance into her work, her and Rooster become good friends over school.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t infatuated. It’s been a long time since you've been interested in anyone. You had to question if it was so smart to crush on someone who not only worked with your best friend, but was in a work field that was so demanding. You never were the type to play into a fling. You were a hopeless romantic, dreams always bigger than reality. You’ve come to know that a heart is a heavy burden.

“I’m heading home, you need a ride?” Nat says.

“No thats okay, you go. I’ll finish my drink then skate home.” You smile back at her reassuringly.

“Really, it’s getting dark. Are you sure?” Nat seems slightly concerned but also she glances over to Rooster who, gives a half smile her way. As if to reassure her that she’s leaving you in good hands.

“I know these roads better than you do and I live close by anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow. Beach day before you start your work week?” You insist.

“That doesn't sound like a bad plan, I’ll call you in the morning.” She smiles and heads out.

“From what I hear, you've got a big week ahead,” you say turning to Bradley. You notice him take off his sunglasses and scoot his chair in closer to you than before. Your heart skips a beat. “Uhm, so are you ready?” You ask.

“I’ve been ready for this. I’ve waited a lot longer than you’d think for an opportunity to prove myself,” his response is filled with confidence.

“Well it sounds like you‘re prepared. Sometimes the best opportunities take the longest to arrive.” You finish your beer, feeling a liiittttlllee tipsy. Thinking about your skates outside on the deck.

“Well isn’t that the truth,” he replies gleaming down at you. “So,” he clears his throat, “I simply can’t let you go home alone in the dark.”

“Oh? Who exactly is ‘letting’ you control anything about my nights narrative?”

“Y/n… may I please drive you home?” He asks sincerely.

“Well, i guess because you asked so nicely…” you smile. Noticing your arms touching together. He smells so good. Are you buzzing from the alcohol or from just simply sitting next to him. “Take me home, flyboy.”

A smile spreads across his face, “I already closed the tab.” Bradley gets up first and slides your chair out for you as you stand. Leading the way through the crowded bar to the door. He waves to Penny, and possibly threw a smirk to hangman who noticed you leaving with him. Opening the door for you, then picking up your skates, he walks towards the bronco.

“This is your bronco!?” You exclaimed as he opens the passenger door. Putting your skates inside on the floor. And then holding out a hand to help you into the truck.

“You excited about that lil lady?” He smiles big.

”Ive always loved Broncos, my dad was always fixing up classic cars when i was a little girl. I was admiring it on my way in!” You grab the handle and jump in eagerly, ignoring his hand out for you. He chuckles and closes the door. You give him directions to your place.

Hand out the window making waves in the air. There’s hardly any conversation on the way. It was a quick drive, but the silence was comforting. Smug. It was one of the oddest things you've ever felt. Filled with the security that only an old friend could offer, but brimmed with the excitement of connecting with a complete stranger. As you pull into the parking lot of your apartment you look at the time on the dashboard. Almost midnight.

You look over at Bradley as he shifts into park. He looks back at you. “Are you hungry?” You ask.

“Actually, I am. What’ve you got in mind?”

“Well, theres a great little 24hr diner about three blocks from here. I think it’d fit the occasion perfectly.”

“Alright,” he grins, taking the keys out of the ignition. “Show me the way.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster fic

21 notes · View notes

trivialbob · 1 month

Text

Sheila and I brought our travel trailer to Illinois.

Bob! Are you two going to see the Bean? Willis Tower? Your college roommate? Or best of all, Navy Pier???

No, we are in Galena, not Chicago, near where Iowa, Wisconsin, and Illinois have a menage a trois.

Traffic in northwestern IL is substantially more calm than Chicagoland's cutthroat yet clogged artery driving. Like, we could drive the speed limit the entire way. There was one highway though were I got passed constantly. It was two lanes in each direction. What it lacked in shoulders and unbroken blacktop it made up with a smattering of white crosses and flowers.

I motored along at 55 MPH, which felt was safe with a trailer on that state highway. It turned out the speed limit was 65, making me the geezer. But tonight there aren't two new crosses with hardware store stick-on letters reading Bob and Sheila.

We're here three night yet we packed little clothing or food. The idea was to not spend much time getting ready. We are going to eat at restaurants, swim in the campground pool, and not bother with cooking and campfires. The price to stay three nights in the campground is a small fraction of what a B&B or hotel would have cost.

Galena's downtown is so cute you just want to hug and kiss it.

There are plenty of restaurants, bakeries and shops. We plan to visit all of them.

You can go to Gabby's:

Or you can choose Gobbie's. That's what we did. Gobbie's had beer, pizza and reasonably-priced cocktails, things two hungry and thirsty travelers need instead of "quirky finds."

We ordered pizza (pepperoni and green olives) and a reasonably priced cocktail each. The server was excellent. Sheila and I didn't realize the pizza came with salad and bread sticks with dipping sauce. I appreciated him explaining that once we had those things the tractor tire-sized pizza we thought we needed might be too much. We ordered a 12" instead and still had leftovers. I'm already looking forward to pizza for breakfast.

We stopped at a dispensary too. In Minnesota we can buy low potency THC gummies, but no other cannabis products yet. Here in Illinois the store had a large assortment of bud products.

A nice young man helped Sheila select some gummies good for relaxing. "You get a free joint with that purchase," he pleasantly added.

Neither of us smokes. But who am I to turn down FREE stuff. I'll probably play with that little test tube, filling it with match heads or gunpowder to blow it up. I'll give the joint to someone else.

#We did not bring any dogs this time #My BIL is putting up with their shenanigans this weekend

43 notes · View notes

theharddeck · 2 years

Text

your love is the love I need || chapter 1/4

pairing: javy machado x femme reader (no y/n), callsign Cross

summary: Cross and Javy are very good friends. Javy might've let it slip to his mother that they're more. A little fake dating never hurt anyone, right?

warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – no smut in this chapter (there defs will be in later chapters, and I never want someone to be caught off guard) but there is an attempted roofie-ing in this chapter.

length: 6.2k

A/N: literally the biggest shoutout in the WORLD to @daggerspare-standingbystandingby for talking me off a ledge, and also line editing, and also depth. @bradshawsbitch and @laracrofted thank you for always brainstorming with me 💙

Saturday

“Cross, get in here; I need a stand-in.”

You’d been looking for a glass for your cherry coke in cabinets at the Miramar Family Center, but at Hangman’s call, you grabbed a straw and jogged back over to the pool table. Bob folded a napkin and slid it across the table as you got closer and you smiled at him gratefully before setting the sweating can down on it.

“Tapping out already, Hangman?” Phoenix asked from across the table, where she was wiping chalk over the end of her pool cue.

“You and Avalone wish,” Jake drawled, smiling wanly at the group. “Nah, I’ve got to pick something up; I’ll be right back.”

He tossed his pool cue at you without looking and you considered letting it clatter to the ground, but you grabbed it out of the air, trying not to read into the gesture too much.

You were a recent addition to the squad; when Fanboy had decided he wanted to try piloting again, they’d needed a WSO to fly with Payback. Having only been a teammate for a couple months, you were still finding your footing with the group. Everyone had been welcoming, of course, but there were times that you felt the little idioms and questions were a type of test. Tests that you were determined to pass, not just for the sake of assimilation, but because this was a team you were genuinely proud to be a part of, and you wanted them to know it.

“Am I solid or stripes?” you asked, looking down at the table, confused by the seeming lack of structure on the felt.

“We’re playing cutthroat,” Payback said, looking after Hangman with a grimace, for not giving you any context.

“We’re 11-15,” Coyote said, because of course he and Jake had been a team. He swiped the chalk that Phoenix had been using, and as he dropped it into your palm, his fingertips brushed yours. You tried to ignore it, it was just an accidental brush, but your skin prickled anyway, and you looked away quickly.

“1-5,” Phoenix cut in, pointing between her and Fritz.

“6-10,” Payback finished, lifting a fist in Bob’s direction, as the WSO held up a clenched hand obediently.

“Cool,” you said, deciding if you wanted to take on the pilot who held your life in his hands any time you got in the back of an F/A-18, or Phoenix.

Which, honestly, wasn’t even a question.

You surveyed the felt once more, before seeing a clear shot for the 9 ball, walking around the table to take it, and shooting Bob an apologetic look as the ball clattered into the pocket.

“I knew I liked you,” Natasha cooed.

“Yeah, I don’t know why we bother,” Payback sighed to Bob, who shrugged, both of them good-naturedly.

“Atta girl,” Coyote crowed, and Phoenix nodded approvingly and you grinned at her, rather than risk looking at him. Not with the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his completely platonic praise. You were on the same team, it was nothing more than that, and now was so not the time for your relentless crush to make an appearance.

Pool wasn’t really your game, and you weren’t at all surprised when you botched the next shot, flustered by the nearly six feet of Abercrombie model at your shoulder. You backed away from the table as Billy stepped up, apparently next in order.

You swiped your soda from the table by Bob, crossing the room to perch on the side of a sofa and wait for your turn again, or Jake’s reappearance, whichever came first.

Your eyes flitted over to Javy, as they always seemed to, when you weren’t actively trying not to. It wasn’t your fault he was magnetic.

All easy smiles and broad shoulders, deep protectiveness and unabashed confidence, just as good as Hangman and Rooster and Phoenix, less likely to call attention to it. The way he’d look deep at whoever was talking to him, nodding along as he gave them his full attention.

At present, that person was Phoenix, and Javy’s shoulders dipped as he hunched his back slightly, to get closer and hear her better. You played with the end of your pool stick, watching as their heads tilted together, quietly commenting on the table as Fritz lined up a shot.

“It’s a statistical impossibility, right?” Halo whispered, appearing next to you on the couch. “For them to be that pretty and that good of pilots?”

You followed her gaze to the trio around the table and shook your head, agreeing.

“The worst part of it,” you mumbled back, “is that they have the audacity to be decent people, so we can’t even do the easy thing and dislike them for being perfect.”

Halo clicked her tongue against her teeth, fiddling with the plastic cap of a water bottle.

“That’s why they need us,” she mused. “You, me, and Bob: subverting expectations as gorgeous backseaters.”

You snorted, before Callie’s words registered, and you looked over at her, your voice teasing when you asked, “Bob, huh?”

She shrugged lightly, even as a pretty flush bloomed on her cheeks.

“Completely impartially, of course,” she said, sheepishly. You smiled reassuringly, bumping her shoulder with yours, and she tilted her head as she looked back at the table.

“How’s that view from your glass house?” she asked, sweetly, making you nearly choke on your soda when you saw she was looking pointedly at Coyote.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked.

“I mean, it was a guess, but that just confirmed it,” Callie smiled broadly, before sighing again. “I think crushes on other pilots is the particular curse of Wizzos—we know better, but we think we’re smart enough to get around it.”

“I’ll drink to that,” you muttered, bumping your soda can into her water bottle, memory taking you back a couple months to a night just like this one.

It was your first day in San Diego; you’d caught an early flight and were able to move into your off-base apartment and walk around North Island for a bit, exploring before you’d meet your detachment the following morning. As the sun sank over the Pacific, you walked along the beach, enjoying the warm sand and cooling air. You could hear a piano in the distance, something you assumed was the effect of a bluetooth speaker until you realized it came from a bar a little farther down the beach, and you redirected your footsteps towards it.

The Hard Deck smelled like sweat and good beer, and you clocked a couple different types of badges as you scanned the room. There was a good chance someone here would recognize you tomorrow, so you asked for a coke from the older man behind the bar, settling on a stool and looking around.

There was a man with a mustache and aviators (Indoors. At night.) at the piano, his head cocked back as he worked through the greatest hits of the 60s. Beside him, a stunning woman in a tight bun stood shoulder-to-shoulder with an impossibly tall man, also with a mustache, both of them singing along enthusiastically. A pool table was nearby, a couple more uniforms draped across it, and two men were playing darts against the wall closest to you.

Well, one of them was playing darts.

The blond man was clearly in his element, sinking bullseye after bullseye, and the man beside him seemed content enough to let him play it out. It wasn’t so much a competition, as it was one man showboating, and his friend humoring him.

The louder of the two was making jokes about his odds, calling shots before he took them, and every now and then his partner would quietly say something that would make his shoulders laugh enough to miss his shot. Their conversation faded into the noise of the bar as you turned on your stool, looking around you. When you came back to the bartop, you noticed a man sidling up to a younger girl a couple stools down from you.

She was rebuffing him as gently as she could, and he seemed to be taking it pretty well—until she turned to chat with someone over her shoulder, and he dropped something in her drink while she was preoccupied.

Your jaw dropped; that’d been clear as day. But the bar was crowded, and she’d been distracted by her friends, and your heart lurched when she reached back for her drink without paying attention.

“Hey, wait!” you called down the bar, and she turned to look at you. Along with the half of the bar, you assumed, but you slid off the seat rather than check and see how much of an audience you had. The girl frowned at you, an unfamiliar face yelling at her, but whatever she saw in your expression held her attention for the moment it took you to get down to her.

“Sorry,” you said, quietly as you could, when you got closer to her. “I didn’t want to make a scene, but he definitely put something in your drink.”

“Oh my gosh,” the girl set the drink down on the bar, glaring at the man. “What the hell, you creep!!”

“I didn’t—,” the man’s face flushed, and he looked angrily at you before at the people around him, placatingly. “Hold on, you can’t just go around accusing—”

“It’s not an accusation if it’s true,” you said, turning to the bartender. “Are you the owner?”

He shook his head, looking over your shoulder at some of the other patrons, then set down the tap he was pouring. “I’ll get Penny.”

“Now, hang on Jimmy,” the creep sputtered. “I-I didn’t do anything, you can’t prove I—”

“Drink it, then.”

Everyone turned at the deep voice, as someone else stepped towards the bar. You recognized one of the men from the dartboard, the quiet one, and he crossed his arms as he came up behind you.

The creep’s expression paled as he took in the tall frame of the pilot behind you. “I mean, it’s her drink, I’m not–”

The girl slid her drink down the bartop, in front of the man. “Go on.”

A door slammed in the back of the bar and a moment later, a slim brunette woman let herself behind the counter. She stalked behind the bar, looking sharply at you.

“You saw it?” she asked.

You nodded, and her jaw ticked. She planted her hands on the bar, looking the creep clearly in the face, like she was memorizing it, before she covered the drink with saran wrap and handed it behind her to Jimmy.

“You’re gonna wait in my office until the police get here,” she told the man, her voice level. “And when you leave with them, you will not set foot in this bar again. Understood?”

“Police?” the man echoed, his eyes going wide. “Hold on, this is all getting blown out of proportion, all I did was—”

Penny jerked her head to the side, and you felt a hand on your shoulder for a moment as the quiet pilot brushed by you to reach for the creep. The blond man was with him, suddenly, and they unceremoniously hauled the creep away from the bar.

Penny pursed her lips together, looking meaningfully over at the piano, and a moment later, some Elvis song was playing through the bar. Penny checked in with the girl, pulled some receipt paper out of the printer and had her write down her contact information, in case the police wanted to follow up with her. She waved you down as well, and you came over.

“Don’t think we’ve met before,” she said brusquely, holding a hand across the bar. “I’m Penny.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, shaking her extended hand and giving her your name. “You handled that really well.”

Her jaw clenched again, as she shook her head. “Hate that I have to handle it at all. Thanks for saying something; what’re you drinking tonight? It’s on the house.”

“Oh, thanks,” you shook your head, pointing to your abandoned coke, “but I’m not drinking; I have an early day tomorrow.”

Penny hummed, looking you over. You had the uncanny feeling that, even without your uniform, she somehow knew you were Navy, which detachment you were in, and—given another minute or two—she could guess your callsign.

“Better get your information too,” she said, sliding the receipt paper down the bar, “in case they want a statement from you. Include your CO; I can probably put a good word in edgewise.”

You scribbled your information down, wondering what ties she had to the Navy, but not doubting for a moment that they were strong. Her mouth twitched as she read over what you’d written, blooming into a full smile as she looked up at you.

“Well, that’ll be easier than I thought,” she said, almost to herself, before walking over to the tap to pour you another coke. “So, what brings you to North Island?”

You chatted with her until the police came and she excused herself to go deal with them. You were finishing your coke when you realized the two pilots were back by the dartboard, the blond one having sunk three bullseyes and performing what appeared to be a victory shimmy.

He looked like a Ken doll, like someone had manufactured him in a Mattel factory, then turned him to life and told him he could do anything a real boy could do.

You laughed to yourself at his antics, and watched while the quiet one collected the darts and took his stance for his turn. His first dart landed on double 16—solid, except it couldn’t beat 3 bullseyes.

You’d wanted to thank him for helping out before Penny got there, and this was as good a chance as any, so you hopped off the barstool and crossed towards the darts wall.

“Hey,” you said, inelegant but effective, appearing behind the two of them, turning to look at you in surprise. “May I?”

The blond man made a sound in the back of his throat like he was both shocked and thrilled by your presence, and he nodded like of course you could butt in. You looked over at the quieter one, trying to pretend he wasn’t the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life.

They’d both looked great from a distance, but up close, he was somehow even prettier, and as you looked at him, the corners of his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. It was like he liked the weight of your eyes, which was terribly flattering, and you found yourself wanting to smile back. You looked away quickly, back to Ken Doll, thinking about the accent you’d heard in his bragging earlier.

“Texas?” you asked, to distract yourself.

He raised an eyebrow. “Six generations back.”

You hummed, before holding out a hand to the quiet one.

“The lady will shoot for her own hand,” Ken Doll said, like he was quoting something, a laugh in his voice as you felt two darts drop into your palm.

“Pick that up from Medieval Times?” you asked.

“Brave, actually,” he muttered, before smiling sheepishly, “my sister’s kids love that movie.”

“What do they call you?” you asked, turning the darts over in your hands. It was a guess, but the way his eyebrows raised slightly when he registered the cadence of your question confirmed you were right.

“Hangman,” he said, lifting his chin over your shoulder. “That’s Coyote.”

You looked over at him. “Hey.”

He smiled, slow and easy, and you looked away before you messed up your shot. You focused, let it go, and Coyote whistled.

“Triple 20,” he said.

“Triple 20,” you agreed, looking back at Hangman. “Want to see it again?”

Hangman’s eyes narrowed as he did the quick mental math, and beside you, Coyote crossed his arms across his chest, laughing quietly. It was a warm sound, and tempted though you were to turn and see it, you let go of the last dart and watched as it landed next to your first.

“Look at that; Coyote wins,” you wiped your hands on your jeans, smiling at a shocked Hangman.

“Damn,” he said quietly, then grinned. “I like you; you can stay.”

You snorted as he strolled lazily across to the board to pull out the darts, before you turned to look at Coyote, who was watching you already. He had deep brown eyes, eyes that looked kind, like they laughed easy, like they didn’t miss much.

“Anyways,” you said, apropos of nothing, clearing your throat. “I came over here to say thanks for backing me up at the bar.”

Something like surprise flashed across his face before he could stop it. He shrugged like anyone would’ve done it, like it was nothing special to believe women, to support a stranger the same way he’d supported his friend all evening, and in that moment—before he knew who you were, before you knew his actual name, before you’d spoken more than a dozen words to the man—you fell hard for Javy Machado.

“Bob, you’re killing me,” Payback groaned, and you jerked out of the memory. Apparently, Fritz’s turn was done, Bob biffed it, and Phoenix lifted her hand in an “after you” gesture as Coyote stepped up to the table.

He walked slowly, and you tried to be impartial like Callie’d said, but it was damn hard when his shoulders filled out his khakis like that. He walked a slow circle, frowning at the spread and you shifted the pool cue in your own hands, telling yourself to stop staring and continuing to do just that.

“Duckie,” a soft voice called across the room, “if you don’t take the shot already, we’re going to be here all night.”

Javy dropped the pool cue with a clatter, turning to find the voice. You spotted Jake the same time everybody else did, his chest puffed out proudly as he escorted an older woman on his arm. She wore warm gray senegalese twists, dangling turquoise earrings and a wide smile you’d recognize anywhere.

“Momma?” Javy asked softly, then a grin split his face as he sprinted across the room. His mother opened her arms as Javy rushed into them, carefully bending his tall frame to enfold her, before straightening and spinning her around. Their laughter echoed around the room and a couple claps of applause went up.

Jake slapped a hand on Javy’s back as he stepped around them, walking over to the pool table to give them a minute together. Phoenix smiled lightly at him, a soft thing that you doubted any of you were meant to see, before she cleared her throat, looking back at you.

“See, this is why we put up with him being an asshole as much as he is,” she told you, shaking her head at Jake. “He’ll leave you out as bait if it gets him a shot at a bandit, but he’ll remember your mother’s birthday, burn his visitor passes, and fly her across the country to surprise you.”

“Take it easy, Nat,” Jake said lightly, resting his knuckles on the pool table and surveying the game’s progress since he’d stepped away. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

Phoenix shook her head before lining up her next shot, and Jake pushed away from the table to come stand next to where you and Halo were seated on the couch.

You bumped his shoulder with yours as you both looked back across the center, where Javy and his mom were walking arm-and-arm towards your group.

“That was awful sweet of you,” you told him quietly, not wanting to “ruin his reputation” as he put it.

“The fact that you don’t sound surprised means Phoenix’s lies are taking root,” Jake muttered, but you heard the pride in his voice; he was pleased with himself for pulling this off.

You looked away from the pair over to Jake, who held out a hand for you to hand him his pool cue. You passed it to him, tipping your head, holding onto the other end of it.

“So there was absolutely no altruism involved in reuniting your best friend with his mom?”

“You wound me, Cross,” Jake said drily, but he lifted his chin at Javy’s mother, who was smiling broadly up at her son, her eyes shining as she patted at his uniform proudly. “Give it a sec; let’s see if it pays off.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you felt your expression turn soft at the clear fondness between Javy and his mother; somehow you always knew he’d be a momma’s boy. Her neck was craned at a sharp angle to look up at him, but both of their smiles were wide as they broke into the group.

“Guys,” Javy said, his voice nearly giddy, “this is my mom. Momma, this is the group. We’ve got Payback, Bob, Phoenix, Fritz—I guess you already know Jake—Halo, and Cross.”

You all smiled and waved as Javy pointed you out to his mother, and her kind eyes followed Javy’s hand around the circle. You thought you might’ve imagined they lingered a little longer on you, but then her smile grew wider as she looked back at Javy. She elbowed him, then looked back at you.

“Now, Javy,” she chided gently, “I know that’s not how you introduce me to your girlfriend.”

The group stilled, and Jake pulled in a deep breath through his nose, his own smile turning decidedly smug as he pushed away from you, taking the cue with him.

“And there’s your answer, Cross,” he said out of the side of his mouth, going over to the pool table and lining up a shot.

You wet your lips as your eyes darted from Mrs Machado up to Javy.

His expression was a strange mix of shocked, mortified, and pleading, and you weren’t sure what Jake had done to land the both of you in this predicament, but you knew you weren’t about to spoil this reunion for Javy.

“Mrs. Machado,” you smiled, pushing away from the couch to come and hug her. “I’m so excited to get to meet you.”

Of course, she hugged like an angel.

She was just a little shorter than you, and she held you like you were something precious she was excited to have in her arms. When you pulled back, her hands settled on your elbows and she beamed up at you.

“Oh, aren’t you just the loveliest,” she smiled, and her voice sounded like the happiest thing. “You know, I told him, I did, when he started talking about the newest wiz—oh, what is that abbreviation?”

“WSO,” the group chorused.

“WSO,” Mrs. Machado nodded, grateful for the prompt. “Yes, well, when he started talking about you, I asked him if you were a nice young lady, and he insisted that you were just friends, but I just knew, you kept coming up in conversation and, well, I knew it was something more. And then sweet Jacob…”

She broke off to smile kindly at Hangman, and when you looked over your shoulder, Callie and Natasha had cornered him threateningly, but he looked too smug to be intimidated. Under Mrs. Machado’s eyes, they smiled charmingly, but their stance didn’t change. You appreciated them coming to your defense, but it did make you wonder how many people seemed to know about your crush.

“Yeah, sweet Jacob,” Payback deadpanned from the other side of the table, before assuming his role as Resident Adult of the squad. “Mrs. Machado, can we get you something to drink? I know lines at the base access point can be awful, maybe a glass of water?”

“Oh!” Mrs. Machado looked between Reuben and the kitchen, then at you. You smiled reassuringly, pulling your arms free from her.

“I’ll be here,” you said, then reached over without looking, turning away. “Hey, Jay, can I have a word?”

“Yep, figured,” Javy muttered, as your hand closed on the lapel of his khakis, pulling him after you.

“You both are doing my push ups after the next of Mav’s drills,” Payback hissed under his breath as your paths crossed.

“Done,” you said quickly.

“For sure,” Javy said, stumbling slightly as he tried to follow your shorter stride as you pulled him to a corner of the Family Center. You figured the group would be watching you so you turned your back to them, pulling Javy to stand in front of you.

“Wait, you’re his backseater,” Javy smoothed down his lapel, frowning over your shoulder in Reuben’s direction. “If he’s doing them, you are too, and 400 pushups isn’t—”

“You’ve got, like, 15 seconds to tell me why your mom thinks I’m your girlfriend.”

You probably could’ve handled it with more finesse, or at least not interrupted him.

Javy’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck; if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was nervous, but there’s no way that was real, so you just waited on his explanation.

“Okay, so she means well, my mom, but every time we talked, she’d be asking about if I’d met a nice girl, or telling me how one of her friends had a kid in town, that I should meet up with or—”

“15 seconds,” you reiterated, trusting in Reuben’s vamping ability, but the man was only mortal.

“Right,” Javy swallowed. “Uh, so it’s just…one day she was just going on and on, and I said I’d asked someone out, and she wanted to know who and you were the first person I thought of.”

You blinked.

“Not like that, not like I’d planned on asking you out or something,” Javy rushed to say, which shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, but damn. He must’ve realized how that sounded, too, because he winced. “I mean, not like that, it was just the easiest lie that she’d believe and she was never supposed to be here and meet you and—”

You crossed your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him. “How do you think this is going?”

“Yeah, not great,” Javy mumbled, his hand falling to his side.

“Awesome,” you muttered. “So now that we’ve established how it’s just a matter of me being the easiest lie, you didn’t want her to meet me, and you wouldn’t actually ask me out—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Javy said stubbornly, even though it was what he’d just said. He looked frustrated, and you couldn’t tell if it was towards your reaction or something else but when he opened his mouth, the words got stuck, because he just sighed.

Javy drew in a deep breath, looking over your shoulder. You knew when his eyes landed on his mom, because his whole face softened, and his shoulders drooped slightly.

“Tell me this,” you said, weighing your words carefully, “is this for her or for you?”

“For her,” he said, with conviction, and when he looked back at you, your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes. It was honest and deep, something selfless and that scared him too, and you believed him.

“She gets worried about me,” he explained. “What she and my dad have is special…when me or my siblings don’t have that, she gets worried. Like, it’s something she prays for. I know she’s proud of me and my career and all that, but I think a part of her will always think something’s missing, unless I’m with someone.”

You looked over your shoulder to find Mrs. Machado in the kitchen, smiling happily at Rueben as he made her some tea. She had this aura of comfort around her, that of being loved and known, and wanting it for everyone around her. It wasn’t an energy you were super familiar with, but you could understand that it would be heavy for someone like Javy to bear.

And this was a terrible idea—you were gonna embarrass yourself at the least, potentially break your own heart at the worst—but you couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” you sighed. “So, how do we do this?”

Javy’s eyes closed for a moment in relief, and for a second you thought he was going to reach for you, but then he held himself steady, his hands clenching at his sides.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

You nodded, already regretting this, knowing if you could do it again, you’d choose the same result, every time.

“Yeah,” you said, rubbing at your temples briefly before looking back up at him. “Um, I guess, how much do you want me around? I’m sure you guys want time for just the two of you.”

Javy seemed to think it over. “I’ll probably take her to dinner tonight—she’ll invite you, but I think we can get you out of it. If…do you want to do breakfast tomorrow?”

Somewhere a trickster god was chortling, thrilled by Javy asking a question you’d never expected to hear, and in an entirely different context.

“I can do breakfast,” you said.

“Great,” Javy said, a full smile growing. “God, thank you. Great.”

And somewhere that same trickster god rolled their eyes, because you were a simpleton who’d do any number of ridiculous things to see that smile again.

Javy squeezed your shoulder lightly, moving to go around you before stopping himself and stepping back.

“You’ve never called me ‘Jay’ before,” he said, his expression curious.

And you hadn’t, never aloud. But in your texts to your girlfriends back home, you referred to him by his initial, just in case someone ever stole your phone.

“Yeah, well," you deferred, "Duckie was taken, so…”

Javy’s nose wrinkled as he tried not to laugh, and there it was, that smile again.

“I had a stuffed duck, when I was a kid,” he explained. “Took it everywhere with me, like some kids have their blankets…Momma always told me she loved me like I loved that duck, and it kind of stuck.”

“That’s adorable,” you said, honest.

Javy waved a hand, like it wasn’t anything, and then he looked back at you.

“I like it,” he said, something different in his voice. “Jay.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you pressed your lips together and shrugged. Javy looked at you for a moment, then he tilted his head towards the group. You turned with him, following him back to the group, telling yourself it was going to be fine.

Of course, that was until Mrs. Machado insisted that they drive you home.

Thankfully, you were able to convince her to take the passenger seat, so as Mrs. Machado and Javy talked quietly, the soft music on the speakers kept their conversation from reaching you in the backseat. You leaned your head against the glass of the window, trying to recall the cross streets from memory, rather than think too hard about any part of tonight. The car was in park for a minute before you realized it was idling in front of your apartment.

“Oh, sorry,” you said quickly, sliding off your seatbelt and leaning forward to brush Mrs. Machado’s shoulder lightly, “it was so great to meet you. Thanks for driving me home.”

“Of course,” she beamed over her shoulder at you, reaching back to catch your hand in hers, and squeezing. “I’m so glad we’ll get to visit more tomorrow.”

You smiled back, then let go of her, sliding down to the seat to the door. As you unfolded yourself out of the backseat, Javy’s hand appeared on the car door, holding it open for you as you climbed out. He shut it behind you, walking beside you towards the door of your apartment.

You looked up at him out of the side of your eye.

People shouldn’t be pretty from this angle but he was. The moonlight seemed to highlight his long lashes, and the soft shadow they cast over his face.

“You don’t have to walk me,” you said under your breath, once you were out of hearing range of the car.

“Nah,” Javy said, his voice lower rather than quieter. “Momma knows I’d walk my girl to the door.”

It wasn’t a long walk up the driveway, but you seemed aware of every step. Or maybe the world just froze when Javy said my girl.

You glanced over at him again, admiring the way he looked perfectly at ease, his hands tucked into his pockets, steps slow to match your pace. You thought about how sweet his mother was, how excited she’d been at the prospect of spending time with you tomorrow. She was probably watching from the car now, and it did somewhat soothe the guilt in your chest, knowing that someone else had set a precedent for her, and she wouldn’t be too disappointed when her son calmly told her you had broken up.

“That’s good that she’s met others,” you said, climbing the first step to your porch, “it’s less intimidating to know I just have to be an average.”

Javy made a soft sound, something between a hum and an exhale, shoulders rising slightly in a shrug. “Actually, you’re the first since the Academy.”

You stopped on the step, turning to find Javy watching you closely. With the added height, the two of you were almost eye level, and your stomach flipped. His brown eyes seemed to glitter, something soft like starlight in them.

“But you said…” you trailed off, realizing Javy had said it was how he would be, not how he’d been. “Literally how is that possible?”

Javy smiled easily, looking back at the car, then back at you as he lifted his chin. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

You smiled back, you couldn’t not, even as you shook your head, despite the heat crawling up your neck because you didn’t realize you’d said that out loud. He was too bright to leave you unaffected, so you stood there on the step, smiling like a fool at a man who somehow had no idea how much of a marvel he was.

Which is when you realized you were staring again.

“Well,” you said, looking away, taking another step up the porch, “thanks again for the ride home. And walking me up here, and I guess…I’m gonna go inside.”

“Oh,” Javy said it quietly, like he hadn’t meant to, like you’d surprised him. He nodded, and you waited for him to say something else, as he looked over his shoulder at the car, but then his easy smile was back again. “Yeah, no worries. Actually, thank you, right?”

You were pretty sure the moonlight was playing tricks on you.

Because there was something in Javy’s expression that you hadn’t seen before, something that looked like uncertainty, something almost like wondering. The extra step put you almost taller than him, your faces closer than you’d expected. Javy blinked slowly, his gaze darting down to your mouth before he stepped back a half pace, like he’d remembered something.

It had to be the moonlight, or you were seeing things.

But you were the first person that’d come to mind when he’d needed a lie, and that had to count for something, right, and he’d looked for a moment like he was trying to think of a reason to keep you on the porch.

You reached for him, your fingers curling around the back of his neck and the slightest pull was enough for him to take back that half step, then more, closer, which was enough for you to know it wasn’t just the moon, and you kissed him.

Or you meant to.

The moment your lips brushed against his, Javy’s hands were on your waist, his long fingers spreading across your lower back, his body heat seemingly burning through the thin fabric of your shirt, like he needed to hold onto you. And then you weren’t kissing him, because he was kissing you, something that you couldn’t quite believe was happening. It was slow and soft and absolutely devastating, as unrealistically perfect as only Javy could be.

And then it was over, just as quickly as it had happened.

Javy’s lips lifted from yours, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back entirely. Still two steps down, you liked how he looked, looking up at you.

“I’ll wait till you get inside,” Javy asked softly, his voice like velvet, and you nodded, very uncertain if you could find words. You rested a hand on his shoulder to lean down to wave at the car, and Mrs. Machado, who was practically beaming back at you, before letting go and walking up to unlock the door. You let yourself in, turning just inside the frame to find Javy still watching you.

“Night, Jay,” you said.

Javy’s lips parted at the nickname, then he smiled at you, bright as the noonday sun.

“Night, Cross,” he said. His hands were in his pockets and he took a step back from you, waiting for you to shut the door. You did, leaning your back up against it, and waited for the sounds of the car starting and them driving away.

Now, what the hell had that been about? And, more importantly, how were you supposed to survive tomorrow?

next chapter

taglist: @peakyrogers @mxgyver @princessphilly @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @roosterforme @blowmymbackout @datemephoenix @fuckyeahhangman @lt-bradshaw @double-j @callsignvalley @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @rosiahills22 @andrewrussgarfield @teacupsandtopgun i don't have a coyote list yet bc this is my first writing for him, so if any of you folks would like to be not included, please do let me know!

#javy “coyote” machado #javy machado fic #javy coyote macado #javy machado #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x you #coyote x you #coyote x reader #misskielwrites #god why is hitting publish so nervewracking???#i hope y'all like this chapter #i have a lot i want to do in ch 3 and ch 4 but this is necessary for now #a smidge of pining is good for the soul right #coyote x cross

414 notes · View notes

azulera · 2 years

Text

Celebration

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Black OC

Words: ~700

Summary: Kylian loses a bet, and you decide the consequences.

Notes: A quick one for all the city gorls, but gender neutral reader. Gentle feedback is encouraged :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So if I win, what do I get?”

You raised an eyebrow at Kylian, leaning on the pool cue in your hand. He looked back to you over the green felt table with love-struck eyes.

“Mon coeur.”

You rolled your eyes. He could be so romantic, and dramatic, especially at the wrong times.

“Déjà j'ai ça, non?”

He laughed, coming to stand closer to you.

“Bien sur.”

“Then I want something else.”

He spread his hands.

“Whatever you want, mon chou. Because there is no way you are going to win.”

You huffed. What had started as a silly billiards game in his basement had instantly become cutthroat between you and Kylian, and now you needed something other than bragging rights to put on the line. You thought back to some Youtube videos you had seen recently, and it came to you.

“Oh, I know! After your next goal ...”

You told him your request and he laughed out loud.

“Tu es sérieuxe?”

“As a heart attack, baby.”

“Okay, okay.” He nodded his head. “It’s your turn.”

It was your shot, and the table was not necessarily in your favor. Still, you were determined; his staunch competitiveness was slowly having its way with you, and you hated to lose.

Four moves later, it was still your turn, and Kylian’s face was in shock. It took all your concentration to not burst out into laughter.

The maroon #7 was your last ball, and it was lined up in a perfect diagonal from the white cue ball. Right as you prepared to shoot, your partner came and stood behind you, unnecessarily close.

“Kylian, what are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He crossed his arms over his pool stick, and moved even closer.

“Is this an intimidation tactic?”

“Je sais pas. Is it working?”

“Hmph.”

You turned from him and back over the table, ignoring how your legs brushed against his.

You pulled the stick back and then pushed it forward, sending the white ball rolling. You jumped with excitement as it sank the maroon ball in with a clack.

“Yes!”

Kylian cursed under his breath and pushed away from the table. You followed him, dancing now, and laughing in celebration of your victory.

When you caught up to him, you jumped onto his back, wrapping him in a reluctant embrace. He scrunched up his face.

“Come on, baby, be graceful in your defeat. Even though you look so cute when you’re angry.”

The compliment softened him, as did the one you gave him after and after, and he slowly relinquished his pout.

“Good game.” He finally conceded, uncrossing his arms. You smirked at him.

“When’s your next one?”

~~~

You lept to your feet as a ball from the right wing flew into the top left corner of the goal. It was the 88th minute and PSG was now up 1-0. Le Parc des Princes exploded into noise as Kylian began a victory lap, with his teammates trailing him. When he reached the sideline he slowed, preparing to do his signature jump and arm cross. Instead, he looked for you up in the boxes where you were waving. He went in for his jump then, and right after, swiped his hand once beneath his chin.

You saw his mouth sound out the word “Period!” and you yelled it back, mimicking the motion. You couldn't believe he’d actually done the dare, but he was a man of his word if nothing else, and always respected the rules of a game. Uncontrollable laughter fell from your lips as the same amusement at you all’s silliness broke out over his face.

You continued clapping with the rest as the refs blew the whistle, signaling the end of regulation time. Kylian looked up into the crowd once more, and blew a kiss. He caught your eye as he did, just so you knew that the appreciation was for the fans and the team, but the celebration had been just for you.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe imagine #footballer x you #footballer x reader #football imagine #football fanfic #football fanfiction #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x oc

367 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 1 year

Text

Eris x reader: Wake Me Up When September Ends

A/N: I want to give him a hug (not yet proofread)

Warnings: Sad because he deserved better

Summary: Growing up in the Autumn Court wasn’t easy for Eris. It was bloodthirsty and brutal. Cutthroat. Absolutely vile for a child. Utterly destructive. But he’s older now, and he knows better. If he can see that, why couldn’t his father?

Visual Prompt here!

Eris was a little subdued today. His smile hadn’t reached his eyes, and the morning kiss he’d pressed to your forehead had been fleeting, at best. You’d attempted to catch his eye over dinner, but your High Lord had kept his gaze trained forward, choosing to address his advisors in favour of discussing Court politics.

That had kind of stung.

When night falls, he opts for quiet, seemingly focusing on slipping the buttons from their fitted slots in his linen shirt. The fabric glides over his arms easily, collapsing in on itself as he hangs it over the back of a chair. Without another word, he moves to the washroom, the click of the latch sliding into place is defending.

Your mind stumbles through all the possibilities of what could have tipped him into this numbing silence. It feels as though the line connecting your hearts is being pulled taut, a sharp twinge forming in your chest at the distance. Still, you pull back the duvet and settle into your side of the bed - furthest from the door.

It’s nearly impossible to fall asleep without him by your side, even in the darkness. No matter you had hardly slept the night before from the suffocating heat that had been ravaging you from Eris’ body. The male had a habit of subconsciously hugging you closer in the peace and quiet. It’s endearing until you’re attempting to sleep in a pool of your own sweat, occasionally having to push the covers down to your middle.

The bond is unusually silent, not a wisp of emotion to be found. Just another sign something was off with him. He’d been in the washroom for too long now. Quietly, you pushed the covers back, padding across the warm oak floors to tap on the door keeping you from him.

“Eris?” You call softly, not wanting to startle the male despite being able to sense each other at all times. The light flickers beneath the doorway, enough for you to understand he’s shifting behind the door. “Eris.” You try again, “it’s getting late. Come to bed.” You can feel your breath push back against you with how close you’re murmuring to the door.

“I’ll be there shortly,” comes his reply. His voice is steady but there’s an underlying rasp to his normal tone that has you hesitating. But you don’t want to push, so you turn around, reluctantly returning to bed, trying to reassure yourself he’s fine.

When he doesn’t appear, you begin to fidget, sitting up in bed and wringing your fingers together.

All it takes is a soft intake a breath from behind the door and your hurriedly moving across the room. “Eris,” you command, softly, “open the door.” Silence stretches between you and you feel as though your soul is being flown far away from his, and you’re desperate to find him again. “Eris,” you murmur, pressing your palms to the door, “let me in.”

More silence.

Something’s wrong.

You inhale. Hold it. Exhale. The wood is pleasantly cool as you press your forehead to the door. “I want to help you,” you breathe. “Tell me how.” It feels as though the quiet is about to gulp you down, pull you into it’s thick web of shadows, muffling any cry for help. “Please,” your implore softly, lips brushing over the barrier.

You begin counting in your mind, ticking off the seconds as the waste away into the night.

Then there’s the muffled sound of fabric-clad weight meeting the floor and you go for the handle desperately. “Eris, please. Let me in.” It’s still locked. Your mind is spinning through all the events of the past few days, searching frantically for the cause for his shut down.

Worry coils deep in your stomach and you decide he’s taking priority. Your press your fingertips over the small screws holding the hinges together, warming them until they melt, using short bursts of heat to send them flowing to the floor before repeating the action on the upper hinges. Once finished, you take the handle, delivering a hard shove to the door to finally knock it from the wall.

You set the door against the walls, bringing a soft flame to dance in your palm as you search for your male in the large washroom. You don’t need to look far.

He’s sat besides the entrance, just to your right, arms locked around his knees, keeping them flush to his chest. He looks up in shock as he notices the moonlight streaming through into the room. The silver catches on the wet paths gracing his angular features, cutting clear trails over his cheekbones.

It only takes a second for him to lock himself down, and you know this. He has to be practiced at shutting his emotions away in a heartbeat as High Lord. He can’t afford to be read so easily. That’s why you dip to your knees before him, fingers threading through his firey hair as you softly pull him to you.

His shaky breaths fan across the junction of your neck and shoulder, making your fingers begin stroking in soothing patterns. Slowly - hesitantly - his arms unwrap from his legs, allowing you closer as his hands trace up your back. They settle at the tops of your shoulder blades, finger pads pressing into your warmth.

“What is it, Eris?” You whisper, so quiet it’s hardly a breath, pulling back slowly to press your lips to his forehead. Small tremors pass through his lungs with each inhale as he tries to stub out the embers of pain flickering within the bloody chambers of his heart. He shakes his head, signally he isn’t ready.

Instead he begins pushing from the floor, forcing you to pull away as he stands, bringing you with him. “I’m fine,” he says, “you didn’t need to remove the door from it’s hinges.” His smile is still strained, no sparks in his eyes. You look up at him, hands entwining with his, brows furrowing then curving in the centre. “Don’t do that,” you requested, trying to peer into his mind, “don’t shut me out again.”

His mouth purses, eyes flickering away from yours as you bring your hands up. He’s feeling as though he needs to be strong. He’s wanting to protect you from himself; the onslaught of thoughts frantically scuttling through his mind.

So you adopt a different approach. He needs you to be the strong one; he needs to know you can manage this weight.

You unlink your fingers from his, raising them to brush beneath his defined jaw. Wetness pools on the underside, skin slick with tears. Your expression settles into a more neutral one, calming yourself. He needs to know you won’t be upset because of him.

Tucking away your obvious concern, you look up into his eyes, speaking quietly, but firmly, “whatever it is, I want to know.” He still looks hesitant so you continue, “we’re a pair, Eris. You and me.” One hand drops to splay across his chest, his skin hot to the touch, “so tell me what’s on your mind.” His fingers gingerly press into your waist, arms trembling for a moment before they’re wrapping around you with certainty, pulling your chest to his.

A wave of relief passes through you as he lets you in, your own arms circling over his shoulders, hands grazing the top of his spine. Wetness drops onto your skin as the tremors continue, inaudible sobs wracking his chest as he buries his face into your neck.

“I don’t understand,” he grieves, the admission confusing you. “I just—” he takes in a sharp intake of breath before it’s harshly exhaled as another wave of sobs overtakes him. Your hands unfurl from his neck, dipping beneath his arms to wrap across his back, thumbs tracing soothing lines of reassurance across his skin.

“Had I not been High Lord…” he begins, quietly, sobs fading as he tries to regulate his breathing. He hesitates, anxiety rising as the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense, breath catching. “…If my family weren’t so important…” he sniffs, swallowing down more tears as his hands bunch the material of your nightdress. “I wish I’d had a proper father.”

Your brows curve as you hold him a little tighter, unwilling to release him. There were no words you could offer him to replace the male he’d been born to. “I wish…” he takes a deep breath, his hands relaxing a little with the admission out, no longer straining to keep it locked away inside. “I wish he’d been better.”

Your lower lip trembles, vision blurring but you refuse to allow it. You push back against the welling of emotion; the heat behind your eyes. Your head needed to be clear right now.

Looking at him, at the High Lord trembling in your arms, you wonder what it had been like for him growing up. As the oldest, he no doubt took the brunt of his father’s brutality. You’d seen the scars, listened to his pained whimpers in the night, had seen the cracks marring him as they became more obvious the closer you looked.

And now here you are. Facing the spider-webbing fractures lacerating his soul. Even if he shatters where he stand, you’ll welcome every shard because they’re him.

“Was it me?” Those three words undo him, tears spilling from his amber eyes, rolling down the sharp clefts of his cheeks as the strength seeps from his upper body, leaning into you. “No,” you whisper back, “you were indefinitely one of the best things to happen to him.” Your arms squeeze him, nosing at him as you take in his scent, “he didn’t understand that, I don’t think. He didn’t understand affection, couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of nurturing.”

He’s listening to you, breaths evening out, leaving him exhausted as the night wares on. “He missed out on having a marvellous son, all because he was too narrow-minded. And that’s his own damned fault, Eris.” You pull back, eyes latching onto his own fatigued ones, scanning them to see if he’s okay. And he is: the spark’s returned.

His eyes are still wet with unshed tears, lids still a little puffy, mouth still slightly downturned, but the embers are burning again. You give him a soft smile, “let’s get you to bed, yeah? I’ll be right next to you.” His hand reaches for yours, squeezing it as he settles his forehead to yours, eyes shutting before he’s moving with you to the bed.

The two of you settle down, your arms wrapping around him to pull him close. Shortly after, his breaths are deep and even, pulse thrumming rhythmically through his body as he falls to sleep. You press kisses into his hair, praying this is the beginning of a path leading to something better for him.

The mother knows it’s owed.

#Eris #soft eris #acotar #autumn court #angst kind of

238 notes · View notes

bl-bracket · 3 months

Text

Most Unhinged - Loser's Bracket Round 10: Vegas (Kinnporsche: The Series) vs Wen Kexing (Word of Honor)

[Submitted Reasons Under Cut]

Vegas: "This man has never done ONE hinged thing in his life. He tortured a man so good he became his bdsm boyfriend wtf is that"

"Wore pants into a pool"

Wen Kexing: "that scene in episode 4 where he’s like frowning and upset that he got blood on his hands… babygirl YOU just stuck your hand through a man’s throat after single handedly massacring like 40 people in broad daylight. What did you think was going to happen…. And then next episode he’s like “oh poor little old me I can’t even kill a chicken. who is going to take care of me I’m just a humble little philanthropist who needs a big strong man to protect me.” babygirl you’ve led a bloody reign of terror for like 8 years now after skinning your predecessor alive and the people known as being the most cutthroat and evil in the whole martial arts world literally call you Lunatic Wen because you regularly gruesomely kill your subordinates to make examples of them…. He recognized a boy he met once as a child 20 years later by his shoulder blades and decided to marry him right then and there. He decided to not burn down the entire world because he wanted to become a housewife. If he was hinged once, he no longer is now."

#bl bracket #bl drama #bl shows #vegas #vegas theerapanyakul #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #wen kexing #word of honor #woh #shan he ling #shl #unhinged #lb round 10

33 notes · View notes

j4y-lvr · 2 years

Text

❝fair play intent❞ … yang jungwon

SYNOPSIS. yang jungwon is an assassin who’s infamous for leaving purple hyacinths by their unmoving bodies. What will become of an ordinary girl who stood in the same field he’d collect the ill-famed blooming beauty from? Would he ruthlessly k!ll the poor girl or seek solace with the guilt that burdened his shoulders?

GENRE. angst, fluff, gore(?), strangers2potentiallovers!au

PAIRING. assassin!jungwon x fem!reader ft. enhypen

WARNINGS. gore (it's kind of graphic?), murder, death, major character(s) death, vulgar language, a tiny bit of stockholm syndrome, mentions of blood, death, murder and assassination, lowercase intended.

WORD COUNT. 8.7k

NOTE. credits to my friend may for helping me out with the entire plot🤧this was fun to write though i just got done with writing fluff and now this would certainly be a switch up— enjoy!

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

Sat alone in the brooding darkness, jungwon sighed, wiping his face with his dirtied palm, taking the knife closer to himself as he wiped the crimson stains off the cutthroat blade. The slow patter of the rain sent a chill down his spine as he sat up straighter, the burner phone in hand as it began vibrating in his hold.

Placing it to his ear, “find park shiwan and kill him tonight. No evidence must be uncovered, i can trust my best man, right” said a gritty voice, seemingly modified, not to jungwon’s surprise. The guilt of another death weighed on his shoulder, not that it bothered him anymore, he’d gotten used to the mass of his sins.

With his older sister dead due to an unknown cause for years, his happiness was rather filled with a void. His parents never really cared what the boy was up to as he soon found himself working for a corporation as an assassin. He worked for days on end, never returning home, finding his feet at the base instead.

Not once in the two years did his parents call.

That’s how he knew he had no one to strive for yet he did, with the measly hope that his sister was alive somewhere out there. Standing on the sole of his feet, he reached the depth of his small bag, picking the violet beauty and next to the pool of blood beside the still body; a purple hyacinth.

The wailing siren within earshot, he slings the bag over his shoulder, booking it up the flight of stairs and to the terrace, ignorant to the thundering clouds along the rain hitting his stature. Sprinting to the other side of the building and sliding off the stairs, stopping to take a turn that ran along the wet metal. Drenched, he filed down to the alley and moved the lugging lid of sewers to the side, and went down the hatch.

He hated taking the underground routes through the stench of the sewers, stifling around till another corner and rounding the corner and up the ladder to the surface of the rubbled path. He pushed the overhead lid to the side and pulled himself up the stinky trench.

To his avail, no one was around, avoiding the sharp blade to an unsuspecting individual's throat as the viscous liquid oozed from the slit with the bloomed flower accompanying the anonymous figure's death. His red hair was damp against his forehead, and the dye slid down the slopes of his face, resembling that of blood though it was the mere raindrops pouring down on him.

The boy was rather irked as he lacked the blooming beauty, after taking the man’s life in the middle of the night, he’d take a detour to the field of the flowers in the crack of dawn and return to the base and remain in his room for something as silly as rest.

Reaching the building with closed entrances, jungwon threw his arms in the air before jumping and hanging off the railing and hiking himself up without a hitch. He pressed a hand to the sequence of glass doors topped over each other. Pulling out a pin, he stuck it in the keyhole, shuffling it around as it ticked open.

That was relatively easy. Steps down the room, he found Mr. Park dozed off on his armchair, and proceeded to pull out a gun from thin air, aiming for his head, intending for a headshot. Maybe all the days he slogged without a rest got to him as he tipped the glass vase it cracked and spilled the water, sending the old man awake in a jerk.

The man jolted to his feet, watching jungwon rise hunched over with a gun in hand. This sent the man into a frenzy as he clutched onto the lamp beside him and threw it at the boy. Jungwon stayed still, he believed in fair play and it was unfair that he’d started earlier, letting the elderly man have a go at him since the winner was always predetermined in jungwon's eyes.

Mr. Park ran, kicking his knee as jungwon crumpled to the wet floor, the man landing his hand on jungwon’s neck. He sent him flying back to the desk, the impact sending the weighted glass paperweight crashing on jungwon’s cranium as blood struck his voided face.

The man had the upper hand as jungwon lay below him, caged and strangled, leaving him wincing for breath. Now, that was his famous act, letting the opponent think they’d won and strike at them with a final blow when they let their guard down.

Jungwon brought the handgun to his temple, struggling to keep calm as he felt himself get lightheaded. Mr.Park's grip tightened as he disarmed jungwon of his weapon.

All for fair play.

The red-haired boy smirked, his canine peeking out through the rows of his teeth as he whipped out a pocket knife, bringing it to his neck, drawing a large slit through the slabs of loose skin. The harsh grip loosened as Mr.Park began losing sight of jungwon with his eyelids shutting while jungwon pushed the old man off him, a hand strangling the man, “fair play, mister. goodbye.”

His head throbbed yet he searched for the renowned flower, placing it beside the lifeless body with a sough. He staggered to stand upright, knees quivering to handle his weight like his mass increased yet a voice pounded into the side of his head, alerting him to flee from the scene. So, he did, running from the scene with a bleeding head to the deserted field. His vision was blurring, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten injured so severely but he found himself craving for the pain, it was refreshing, a new thrill.

The thick liquid trickled to his mouth, the salty taste sending a hiss from his mouth as he ran to the field in the middle of the night. He found himself smiling from a mix of emotions, though the voices in his head shouted the opposite. He ignored the muttering and yells advancing to the field located in the outskirts, not too far from the base he'd passed minutes ago.

He halted at the field, staring up at the seemingly clouded night as the rain poured onto the land. Jungwon was dizzy but it did nothing but fuel him to push himself off the ledge, walking through the throng of flowers, observing a figure sitting in the middle of everything.

She adorned long black hair, soaked from the rain along what looked like a long white night dress, back faced towards him. Caution took over the red-haired boy, he’d never once seen anyone stand in this field for all the years he visited the masses but he was proven wrong with a statue of someone quietly sitting down beneath the jet night.

Approaching her from behind, jungwon kept his footsteps sound as he advanced closer to the unfazed figure. His sight blurred as he gripped his throbbing head, blinking to regain his line of sight, silently hoping the figure wouldn’t sense his presence that stood behind.

Getting ahold of his senses, putting the handgun to the figure's temple, the figure being none other than you, taken aback, to say the least. “who are you? lie and i’ll blow your brains out,”

You smiled at his words, not that it’d stop him from doing so, “a stranger passing by,”

He cocked the gun, pushing it harder into the side of your head, his teeth gritting with a tight-lipped smile forming on his front. It was peculiar to him, that you didn’t seem scared nor did you yell from shock, you remained calm.

You watched as he withdrew the gun, clutching his bleeding head instead with a small hiss, staggering to the dirt-covered ground, crippling as it faded to black leaving him unconscious in your hands of you.

The trickling of his blood stopped as you kept a cloth to his head you'd ripped from your pearly white nightgown, not caring whether it ruined the piece, the unknown boy lying unconscious in front of you was more important.

You weren't exactly sure why you were helping someone who held you at gunpoint but it was probably his resting features, they looked soft and innocent. For, to you the red-haired boy had a story to tell, and no one had bothered to listen, so you'd offer to listen by helping him.

Snapping out of your dazed under the chilly night sky you hear the boy mumble something, clutching to the material of your gown, face scrunching in displeasure. Was he having a nightmare? You smile, scooting closer to the boy, it'd been a while since someone had just stayed by your side and didn't gain anything from you, all too familiar with the leeches.

He had attempted to hurt you but he didn't, and it's not like you weren't familiar with people trying to hurt you. You faced this since your mother left with your brother seemingly nowhere and that left you and your father. Your father lived away from you, with your stepmother he married not even a year after your mother left. He said it'd be better for you to live away from him, saying he was protecting you.

Not that you minded, unable to stand the heavy atmosphere with them and your stepbrother.

Though you didn't need the protection in all honesty, you just needed a shoulder to lean on. No wonder your heart felt deeply for the fallen boy. You'd fled from the lonesome mansion you were cooped up in, leaving the maids and personnel that looked after you behind.

You stumbled upon the field while you ran a few miles or so, settling to just wait in somber silence till the sun rose and see what to do then. That's when the boy you suspected to be around your age held a gun to your head. Curious about him, and his story, you wrapped the cloth around his head, tying it tight around his wound.

He began breathing rapidly, his chest heaving up and down as he rolled onto your lap, his hand gripping your dress. You placed your hand over his bright red hair, soothing it down in a calming motion, causing the boy to waver away.

His eyes snapped open, meeting your unfazed front with your hand still running up and down his hair. His eyebrows furrow as he swats your hand away, sitting up and flipping you to the floor beneath him, his hands hitching your breath, "i'll ask you once more. who are you?"

His voice was still but commanding, the qualities you'd find in a leader. You find the situation rather amusing, stirring a smirk, "a girl who ran away from home," you reply, coughing as his grip closes in. He takes in your reddened eyes, looking all too familiar to him. He blinked away and observed the dirt that covered your white nightgown.

Sighing, he let go of your neck, falling back to sit properly, allowing you to do the same, "i don't know what's your deal but go home to your loving family, and don't enter these fields again. this place isn't your type of scene." He stands to his feet, struggling to maintain his balance as he inspects the white cloth tied around his head, his eyes widening, alerted.

"was anywhere here while I was unconscious?"

"no, and if you're wondering, i tied that around your bleeding head," you say, standing and dusting the gown as you point to the cloth that hung over your knee where it lacked material in the form of a rough line.

He nods, placing a cap on his head as he pushes it low, bending to pick a few flowers and proceeding to put them in his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and seeing your gaze fixed over him. "go home." You grin, "take care of your wound, bye red-haired boy!" you shout to his receding figure under the now-rising sun. You turn on your heel and begin walking back to your miserable mansion.

Jungwon left without glancing back as he shuffled to the base a small distance away, wondering about the strange girl he'd seen. You didn't seem scared in the slightest when he held the gun to the side of your temple and even went on to tie a cloth over his wound like he hadn't held you at gunpoint.

You intrigued him, yet the fact you had a family to return to ignited a flame in his heart, and you dared to run away from them while he had no one to look out for him.

Arriving at the rather rundown base in the morning with the birds singing, he knocked thrice. “niki!” he shouted from out the door, possibly waiting for niki to get the door which the taller male did and sprinted off with a jar of jugs and mugs in his hand, serving them to the people inside. Right, one thing about the base was that it had to run a bar as a cover, so there’d be a ruckus above the confines of jungwon’s room.

Niki returned to jungwon, handing him a mug of seemingly another one of jake’s newest creations, “i don’t want to taste test—”

“i made it for you so just drink it, i know you haven't been home for a few days,” and with that, the younger boy took off as jake shouted table 3 in the near distance by the counter. Sighing, he gave up, sipping the brown liquid, taking the hint it was coffee that jake had prepared.

Niki, jake, and heeseung would usually cover the positions and alternately the other on the days they were not busy with their varied activities, such as killing people much like him. He walked to the counter and hopped over the counter and into the storage room, pushing the closed gate open and slipping down the creaky metal stairs.

The bar only made additional revenue for him and the other six boys who accommodate the base. The bar closed at midnight on the dot, leaving the boys to drive away any drunk customers, though most of them were here for suspicious deals as well, opting for this bar as it was near the outskirts of seoul which was good for the business.

Striding by the narrow hallways, he took a right turn down the dead-end, coming across an equally tired jay, who stopped in his tracks and called out for him. “come here,” jay ordered, dragging jungwon inside his tidied room, pulling out a medical kit, and tugging on the cloth wrapped around his head.

“so, who’d you stop by,”

“no one, i was by the field,”

“oh cmon, don’t be so secretive, who fixed you up,” he drawled, shooting jungwon a look with a smirk. “it’s nothing like that, i passed out in the fields, and someone patched me up,”

“i doubt you’d let anyone touch you though,” he retorted, wrapping bandages around his crimson-colored hair. “she reminded me of you; the same innocent look, the way her eyes glimmered were the same as yours when i first met you,” jungwon stated, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. The other boy stayed quiet for a while before replying with a chuckle, “someone’s falling,”

Jungwon stayed dead quiet, merely looking at jay as he finished bandaging his wound where his eyes held a certain coldness in them that told a story of their own, making jay’s chuckle hitch in his throat.

He cleared his throat, snatching the empty mug from jungwon, “i’ll go take over niki’s shift, you go get some rest.” Patting jungwon on the back he left his room, leaving a dazed jungwon to step into his room and settle in his bed.

He wandered his way off to dreamland, wondering whether you made your way back home safely. There’d be no way jungwon would fall, not after everything and everyone who’d left him behind without sparing a glance.

—

You stepped through the prickly rubble road and sighed as you reached the gates of your prison, sulking while your bare feet stubbed the ground repeatedly with your head hung low. Your footsteps came to halt as you heard the two guards speaking, your name slipping from their conversation.

“i heard they stopped searching for her after an hour,”

“oh really? no wonder, no one cares whether she's there or not, just like her father” he replies, laughing, making your face scrunch into confusion. You latch onto the pillar of the gate, leaning on it as you continue eavesdropping on their conversation.

“right, he kept her here because he didn't want any distraction between him and his wife, apparently he even sent away his stepson too.”

“oh poor girl, she's all alone,”

You feel your eyes water as you slide down the pillar and choose to just sit there feeling your will to go inside diminish after overhearing their conversation. You had no one left, all of them just chose to move on and left you behind.

A car that shined depths of persian blue rolled around just then, halting in front of your fallen figure, stepping out of the vehicle and walking towards you was a man you’d never seen in your life. “hello yn, it's nice to finally meet you though it's under such unfortunate circumstances.”

You stay silent, observing his actions, as he crouches down to your level, “i guess you already know that your father was murdered.” You maintain a poker face, processing what he’d just said, “and what makes you think i’d blindly believe your words,” you reply, scoffing at him.

He shows you a small smile, pulling out photographs and handing them to you. They were of your father, stained blood red at his office suite, your mouth falls open, as you feel your shoulders get heavier with more burden. “how…”

“a smart one, but i need you to come with me,”

You shoot him a look of disbelief, “i'm not going anywhere with you someone i barely know,” He laughs, offering a hand to help you as he gets you to your feet upright, “i should’ve introduced myself first. I’m your stepbrother, doyoung,”

Shakily, you accept his hand, getting up to your feet, mouthing an “o”. “but why must i leave?"

“for your safety, yn” he said, his face contorting to that of a determined demeanor, and those words made your front falter, sneering at him while he walked inside the gates with his hand clasping your wrist.

“we don't have much time, hurry and pack,”

“i’m not going with you, i’ll be fine on my own like i’ve always been. don’t think i don’t know you’re after the fortune father passed down to me,”

He stops in his tracks by the front door, the maids rushing towards as you free your hand of his grip, “fine, good luck with staying alive,” doyoung remarks while turning around and walking back to his car, and driving off. That was rather unfortunate news.

You huff, racing to your room and rushing to take a shower, which you did, leaving you dressed in something more practical. You were now a target with your father gone, and the thought scared you, you had to get moving. You pace to your bedside drawer, finding a key and unlocking it, whipping out a small yet proving revolver.

Stuffing a few of your things in a duffle bag you zip the contents shut and run down to the kitchen where the chef stood mindlessly, boiling something while he scrolled his phone. “you should leave,” you announce, picking up the different assortments of knives, the bewildered man watching with terror.

He scurries out, switching off the burner, a few others following him. You shake your head, leaping over the stairs to your room and grabbing the bag, whipping your head to the door hearing a loud noise, and then went off the explosive as you looked at the picture of you and your family by the door frame.

You fly to the floor from the harsh impact, many fresh bruises bleeding, a groan escaping your lips while you shut your eyes from the searing pain, the pain being unbearable. You knew you had a big red target on your head but you thought you’d have more time before they barged in.

You hiss, attempting to advance to the window, knowing you should get out before they get to you. You waver as you get up to your feet, slinging on the bag, your hands pushing yourself off the window and down to the ground, bearing the injuries and even more from the fall.

Impacting the ground, your eyes water from the pain, getting on your knees slowly. You hear a series of voices yell, “there she is!” from above your current position by the window. It hurt but you had to run to avoid costing your life, not like you had anyone to continue living on for.

You run from the place with immense, throbbing pain with tears streaming down your face. Would things have been better if you left with your stepbrother, or if you’d declined your father's request to live away from him and your stepmother..?

You catch sight of the field in the far distance, debating whether you should just lay there and leave your life up to those who wanted you dead for your fortune. You shuffle to the field, setting the bag down beside you as you crouch down to your feet, heaving.

You collapse to the ground, tears leaving the corner of your eyes as you stare up at the rather gloomy clouds with the sun peaking through occasionally, would it be wrong of you to hope that the red-haired boy would find you and take pity on your crippling state to help you just like you had to him? Even if he didn’t you wouldn’t regret patching him that day, moreso because the pained look hidden behind his cold facade was much like what you felt.

—

Jungwon felt a surge of uneasiness as he blinked his eyes open to the dark room, groaning while throwing his arms over his head and ruffling his scarlet hair. He huffs, sitting up in bed, and bore his eyes ahead into the void he beknownst his room.

This urgency forced him up and out of his bed, as he checked the time to be around 4 pm, at least he got a wink of rest. He undid his bandages, settling for a warm shower to get himself up and kick in after he brushed his teeth.

He stood under the steaming water pondering what this unease he was experiencing could be, the thought of it possibly being all the souls he killed lingering onto him.

The red dye faded and slipped onto his front so that it looked like blood, something he'd been accustomed to seeing, the red viscous liquid had imprinted itself into his mind since the first time he took a life.

He remembers staggering back and falling onto his behind as jay encountered the whole ordeal, the same amount of shock overtaking both the boys as they heard a wailing siren, overhead making them run for their dear lives.

It was dull throughout the alley, only shouts heard in the far distance, jungwon would've kept clear of the scene if he knew what awaited him solely a turn away. Stalking down the alleyway, he saw a man beating up a teen with his fists, the sight catching the boy off guard.

Not entirely sure what compelled him to stop the man from beating him any further, jungwon was thrown across the alley with his back hitting the concrete wall with his head buzzing. He felt anger, resentment, and bloodlust. He'd been assigned his first job not even minutes ago yet he was off-bounds.

He raised the firearm, aiming and gripping the trigger towards the man's shoulder, successfully doing as he earned a scream. Jungwon scrambled to his feet, yanking the frazzled boy with him merely for jay to get held by the material of the shirt, falling back down with a thump.

The man yelled at him before taking the metal piece in his unharmed hand and colliding it with jay's head harshly. Jungwon's eyes widened with shock as he raised his arm and shot at the man's head, rendering him lifeless on the ground with a puddle of oozing blood beneath him.

He watched the sight, his feet losing all power as he staggered to the floor, falling on his behind with a look of terror spreading across him as jay exclaimed, "medic!" bringing the boy back to his senses while jay faded in and out of consciousness.

Jungwon ran to the boy, slipping him onto his shoulders and heaving as he held him up in the air and took off to the base. The only place they'd patch up was the boy who was beaten and jungwon who killed the man.

Jungwon had heard an earful for killing the unknown man while jay went on to be treated and soon found himself at the base quite often, carrying out orders of his own. To think it took two years ago was baffling for jungwon because it felt like an awfully long time.

He sighed, hot breath escaping from his mouth, slipping out of the warm shower. He got dressed while his arms remained busy drying his faded red hair. He got out of his room, grabbed an apple, and headed out without a word to anyone.

It was rather unusual of him to act out of the ordinary but he went with his gut anyway. He stood by the field yet again, not sure what exactly he was doing, having finished the apple somewhere down the line of travel. He felt a breeze of fresh, chilly wind gush over him.

Maybe his gut was just wrong, he should probably get back instead of standing lonesomely. Jungwon shook his head, a patch of red in the distance catching his attention, jerking his head to a stop in that direction. He walked to the scene to inspect.

He rustled through the bed of flowers, crouching down to a motionless body with dried blood staining the material worn over. It was the girl from earlier, who looked all too familiar with soft glowing, innocent eyes which were now shut with red liquid dried over.

He was careful to place his hand under your head as he lifted your body into his arms while you stayed unconscious. He examined your wounds as some continued to ooze with the viscous material. Jungwon wasn't the best at being a medic, jay being the only person who’d patched him several times before, and, well, you.

You lay stunned, unable to help yourself and he had to make a decision and he had to make one fast, hearing two men shout in the distance calling out for you. Jungwon hadn’t carried any weapons on him, making him huff as you slowly stirred awake, grunting from pain.

He placed you down as the two men inched closer. The boy could just leave now and keep himself out of any trouble, not that he intended to help anyone but himself, helping others hurt him more than they helped him.

Pushed to the ground, he growled and pounded one of the men to the ground. Your dazed figure raised, hissing with all the injuries you’d incurred, pulling your bag closer to you and whipping out a smaller knife. It seemed incapable yet you had to work with what you had, seeing as the red-haired boy tackled one of the men, punching him fervently.

You stumble to your feet, shoving the other man off of the boy who almost beat the man beneath him to death. You shuffle to him, fighting off his grip, using the measly weapon to defend yourself which the man soon caught hold of and threw away, rendering your weaponless.

You bubble with anger, trying to fight the man off yourself, feeling an impact on your stomach making you cough, blood leaving your mouth and staining your lips a dull red. Tears brew in your eyes, the man overpowered your injured self, taking more hits while merely able to block them to the best of your abilities.

Jungwon pulled himself off the half-dead man, turning to your helpless figure with glassed-over orbs. Wordlessly, he pulled the man off you, packing a punch his way, a few of his teeth flying out from the collision. Clutching the discarded knife in hand, the boy climbed over him, raising both of his arms in the air, aiming for his gut. You gasp, scurrying to the red hair boy, gripping his arms, staring at him with a pleading look.

Jungwon freezes, pulling a blank, and turned to look at your glazed-over eyes, lips jutted, and your tear-stricken face. He held a poker face at the thought he’d want to find himself pulling you into a soft embrace, soothing down your long black hair. But jungwon wasn’t someone who could do that for you, and that thought sent him into a frenzy as he stabbed the man maintaining eye contact with you while the blood splattered everywhere.

Jungwon got to his feet, striding over to the other man who was knocked into a daze, preparing to thrust the rather blunt knife into his guts. “don’t,” your voice was frail, coming out more as a word of advice than a command. Unfazed, the red-haired boy carried on, with more blood painting him and his surroundings, leaving you stationary.

Swiping his mouth of blood, jungwon dropped the knife, the sun almost set with the sky turning dark with the boy approaching your shocked stature. He looked close to your sunken self, searching your eyes for something before uttering, “go home, please,” amidst the ravenous silence.

Your blank expression contorted into splitting anger, grabbing the collar of his shirt by your bruised fists with his face a mere span from yours, a stray tear rolling down. “i don’t have one, not anymore at least,” you spit, gritting your teeth as you spoke, loosening your death grip on the material of his shirt.

You lower your head, expecting no answer from the mute boy who barely spoke more than a few sentences. “come with me,” he declared, setting off with your crumpling state behind, crunching through the field. You attempt to hurry along, your hurt state making it impossible, “where to?”

“i'm returning the favor,” he replied, stopping a near distance away, waiting for you to catch up. You stand beside the boy, heaving from rushing over, causing jungwon to sigh and kneel to his knees, “get on, i have some business to attend to,” he ordered, remembering that he left his burner phone back at the base.

You comply with a small grin while he got to his feet and continued down the road as you carried your bag. Finding it hard to keep your eyes open, you seal them shut, your hands forking into his soft hair, “your name?” you inquire through the stillness.

“jungwon,” the boy found a sad smile creeping up his face, unable to remember the last time he’d talked to someone other than those at the base and his superiors, reminiscing the cheerful moments he once held. He hoped that it was different for you, finding it a bit out of place to wish well for someone but he let many things slide if it was you.

Jungwon grunts, taking the last step to the door, knocking on it thrice. The door panned open to reveal a boy not much older than jungwon with jet hair falling over his eyes. "come in. who is that?" he spoke, moving aside as jungwon hauled you inside, "can you get off now," he ordered, not trying to make it seem like a question.

You do so, struggling to stand upright, reaching for the deserted table beside you. Upon inspecting your surroundings, you whip your head to jungwon, "where are we? a bar?" you query while jungwon seemed to whisper to the other boy who looked foreign to you, and mused a smile as he caught your gaze on him.

The boy flashed a smile, his lips pulling into a beautiful smile. Flattering, but you had no time to think about that as you were being hunted freakishly and could die at any given moment. You put the antics aside, venturing past the two solely for jungwon's hand to find yours, halting you from doing so. "where do you think you're going?"

You gulp at the intense stare, gapping at your bare feet that were bloodied and ragged. He tugged you past the counter and behind a door, down another flight of stairs. You looked left and right, examining the rather dull painted inside of what looked like a bar.

He continued walking down a hallway with you trailing him, frightened by the plasma-stained walls. Jungwon halts and you fail to stop yourself, absorbed in the scarlet-splashed walls, finding your head crashing into jungwon's broad back. You move back, touching your forehead as jungwon gave you a side eye, knocking on one of the doors in the dim hallway.

The door clicked open, revealing a face you'd merely forgotten. With your jaw craning open, you stood frozen as jungwon moved aside to reveal your shock-ridden face, the person facing you mirrored it. You stumbled back, leaning onto the walls, your hand reaching for the material of jungwon's sweatshirt, gripping it tight.

The unnamed boy moved towards you, leading jungwon to step back with you with an arm raised to your right, blocking him. “jungwon, i know her,” he expressed, shoving jungwons arm back to its stationary position. Your back hit the wall as you breath paced, facing the boy, your eyes darting to his neck, finding the very same birthmark.

“jongseong?” you question, your eyes trailing up his birthmark to his face riddled with surprise, “yeah, it’s me, but what happened to you?” he motioned to your bruises, advancing and slinging an arm around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. You hissed, pushing him away, wincing.

“sorry, come in, I'll fix you up,” he said, his eyes meeting jungwon’s with a quizzical face, wanting answers to his several questions, an eyebrow arched. Jungwon shook his head and turned to his room that was further down the hallway and began shuffling away.

You watch his broad back get further as your orbs catch the blood on the side of his stomach, sending you in a weak sprint after him, stopping him with your hand around his wrist, “wait,” to which he faces you slightly with a tilt and turn of his head, “you’re hurt too,” you finish, eyes following the red stains on the side of his stomach.

His eyes follow yours, falling on the patch of blood on his sweatshirt, your hand lifting the material slowly, causing jungwon to jerk away and throw your tracing hand off of him. You stare at his unreadable face, “it's pretty bad,” you state, walking towards his retreating figure again, merely for him to inch back and raise his voice, “i’m fine!”

His sudden outburst made you flinch as you lowered your gaze, still watching his face fall from his short-lived temper. “i’m fine, so,” he dragged, blinking in a daze, “just go get treated.” He stayed in place, and for the first time you could see the emotion on his stoic face, but that of regret and sadness before stalking off in a hurried motion.

You remain watching his receding build disappear down the hallway and into what you believed was his room. “it's fine, yn, he's a bit moody,” jay echoes through the empty parallel straight of walls, heading into his room, calling out for you once again when he was inside.

You sit on his bed, finding yourself zoning out as he bandages your wounds, asking you to lift your arms as he finishes removing the pieces of glass inched in your waist. They were probably from the explosion in your room’s mirror. You let out a deep breath as he whips them out, placing them on a tray.

“what happened,” he inquired to which you sigh and replay the moments your stepbrother arrived at your house, warning you. “father is dead.” Jay’s face morphs into concern, “how— was he with you?” You shake your head, “he sent me away to live alone after he remarried, saying it was what was best for me. i guess it was, or i would've died too with him. now that he’s dead, everyone he had to pay back or had grudges against is after me,”

You can’t help but smile in irony, emitting a laugh from you as you sink, bringing your arms to your face. Jay places a hand on your back, drawing a huff from him, ”mother kicked me out after he found this drug addict of a man, who died.”

His words were short but said a lot. Being separated at a young age, you thought you’d never see your brother around again, yet here he was, an acquaintance of the red-haired boy at this odd place. Would you even end up somewhere like this? Killing for a living? Not that you believed you could make it out alive for that long.

You sat up straight slowly, pulling your brother to a hug, feeling the missing warmth return within your heart, showing a grin. “oh right. before those people came to kill me, my stepbrother, stopped by, demanding that i go with him,”

“he did? Then he was probably behind it, after the fortune, i guess,”

You hum, furrowing your eyebrows down, “should i just give up and go to him,” you mumble, looking at your palms and balling your hand into a fist. Jay perks up, “could you tell me his name?"

“kim doyoung,”

Jay flashes a grin, unknown to you, patting your back, “tell jungwon to come here,” he says, smiling at you. You nod, exiting his room, walking down the same hallway and into what you suspected was jungwon’s room, knocking on it to no response.

You click open the door, and enter inside, discovering his bloodied sweatshirt on the floor. You sigh, picking it up and placing it on the table, “jungwon?” you call out, hearing jumbling from inside a closed door, realizing he was probably in there. You sit on his bed, falling back on it and closing your eyes from exhaustion and pent-up stress, drifting off to sleep.

—

Hearing the coherent talks booming beside you, you groan, shuffling in the bed, throwing the blanket over your head as you unconsciously listen to their heated conversation led by shouts and anger. It was rather cold, feeling yourself shiver as another cold wave entered through the window, an unsuspected hoodie draped over you.

"you can't just kill people at your will!"

"what else was I supposed to do?! watch them threaten my sister?"

A frustrated snarl left jungwon, you guess, blinking lazily under the blanket, a soundless yawn parting from your mouth, till it clamped open at the next words you heard. "it doesn't mean you could just kill kim doyoung?!"

Who did what?

You jerk up on the bed, eyes wide as you look ahead, feeling short of breath while heaving profusely, jungwons cold gaze falls on yours but he was full of anger, something you hadn't seen. Jay stood still, his gaze held worry, he advanced towards you, lifting a hand to place on your shoulder, it slowly setting in and closer to you though you swatted his hand away.

"who killed him?" Your question drew silence in the room and a scoff from jungwon. "jay might know you and I'm not sure to what extent but you're causing more harm to the base and it's not helping we have doyoung's men tailing us."

"why'd you kill him? did you think I couldn't handle him?"

"no, but he's a threat to you, so i figured i'd help as your brother—"

"i didn't need help! i would've talked to him and just succumbed to his conditions, i do not need more people having it out for me jay!"

Jay quips his mouth shut in defense, his figure crumbling as he turns to walk away and out the door. "talk to him? like you can even protect yourself in the first place," jungwon mumbled, turning on his heel to walk out before pausing, "i think you can tell that you've overstayed your welcome."

He heads out of his room and up the stairs, the thumps echoing through the walls. You fume, jumping to your feet and pacing out and behind him. Jungwon passed over the counter of the closed bar, saying a few words to another boy present there. You jumped on and over the counter appearing in front of jungwon, an unknown owner's hoodie dangling on you.

You huff, staring him in the face and bringing a fistful of his shirt in your grip, yanking him closer to your face. The other boy who towered over jungwon by quite a lot gasped, the others in the vicinity standing to watch. Your face held a crystal clear expression of anger, making jungwon smirk, "what, did I make you mad,"

The mocking tone in his voice crawling up and beneath your nerves sent you boiling with newfound aggression. "i don't know why i let you help me anyway, i'd be better off in the hands of those who want me dead than with you," The red-haired boy's face twitches, walking forward and closing the gap even further, towering over you.

Your grip on his shirt loosens as your face turns flustered, walking behind till your hip hit the counter. Jungwon lifted the side of his smile, his canine peeking through as he placed a hand on your neck over your long hair, his forehead touching yours. He sucked in a breath to speak, pressing his lips to yours while he spoke, "then leave, princess."

He moves back and left without a second glance. Not only were his words insulting but he took part in pressing his lips to yours to speak and it wasn't even a real kiss, he merely connected your lips to tell you to leave?! You weren't going to stay anyways, since it gnawed at your ego.

You ran down the stairs and got your bag and trailed up the stairs again and left through the front door solely to meet jungwon at a distance from the door. You halt on your way, panning your head to look at him, "if you wanted a kiss at least don't make it so obvious," you state, scoffing, shuffling past him and back to the field and your blown-up mansion.

Maybe it was a bad idea but you'd rather just be kidnapped and get it over with, or even fight back if you felt like it.

—

You got what you wanted. You were kidnapped successfully! Yay! Yeah, not as fun as you thought, you were practically thrown around like a rag doll and then were unconscious before being put in this rundown warehouse where no one would suspect. Totally.

Sarcasm was hitting as you slowly came to accept that you'd be dying soon. Heck, you even missed that annoying little red-haired brat, though you hated his guts not long ago. To think you weren't even kissed properly in your life made you somewhat disappointed as you chuckled bitterly.

What you'd do to rewind time right now? To think you wished to be kissed properly by the redhead once before succumbing to death was amusing, he was a charming boy with a cold outside, and that honestly just added to his mysterious charm. Your daydreaming of the boy was short-lived as a man's voice boomed through the space.

"no one's coming to save you,"

"i know, just kill me already, waiting is just tiring."

"oh, but we need to see if your lover boy would show up," He said, eyes glued to the pistol, reloading his gun. "my lover what?" you ask, baffled by the words, lover boy. As far as you know, you didn't have a lover boy. "don't play dumb, my men saw it all and heard what you said to him too,"

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking about what he could be possibly referring to. You ponder over the thought, realizing what you said to jungwon then was overheard. "oh no, he's not my lover—" The door kicked open revealing the same boy drenched in blood, and you had a feeling it wasn't his.

"did you really have to be kidnapped right now," he drawled, complaining he just got off work not too long ago. You mentally groan as a man cocks a gun to your head, making you gulp down the lump in your throat. "whatever, you can just leave, remember, i said i'd rather die than be near you,"

"aw, cute but these people aren't here for you but me, darling."

"cut the small talk and get to firing!" Ordered the man a distance away, jungwon dashed past the people that rushed his way, being unarmed with his gun and mercilessly struck in the head by the back of a handgun. He winced, sucking in a breath of air through his teeth.

He staggered, making his way to you and falling to his knees to untie the rope clenching around your feet and arms, blinking rapidly to maintain focus. You sigh, "you said it yourself, all I do is cause harm. why'd you even come here when i'd rather die," you whisper, watching as the man strikes jungwon again with his foot causing him to lean into your shoulder, gasping for air as he successfully cut the rope tied around your arms.

"untie your feet and leave," he says while the man continues beating him up, handing you the knife silently. Your gut twists as you make your way through the rope tied around your feet. "aw the couple's rather cute, might as well let you both die together," the sinister man comments with a coo.

"first you killed your daughter, now you're killing your son, how lovely," jungwon expresses, sinking and attempting to cover you by cutting through the rope around your feet. The rope frees and you sigh with relief, "now leave," jungwon whispers.

"oh no, no one's leaving," the man says, "not until I make sure my son and his girlfriend are both lifeless."

His father? Why would he..?

You freeze, hearing his father cock the gun, jungwon nudging you to leave with all his remaining might, "LEAVE!" he exclaims, pushing you off him. You fall forward, the gunshot ringing in your ears as you lurch to the boy, clutching him in an embrace.

You feel the bullet pierce through your flesh, the hot liquid streaming down your shoulder as you continue to clutch into jungwon. "why didn't you leave…" his voice is feeble. "because i need my proper kiss,"

You caress his cheek, mustering to your feet, stumbling towards that monster of a father, kneeling and picking up jungwon's gun he was disarmed ere. Your right arm was shot yet you clutched it in your right hand, raising it to the man before you.

The sound of multiple guns cocking filled the still room making the man chuckle, "you all can leave, i'll handle these pesky brats myself," He announced, causing the others in the rundown warehouse to leave, just like you planned.

Not to get ahead of yourself but everything seemed to be going accordingly. "take your best shot, there's not much you can do with an injured arm," he stated, snickering. "please, just leave," jungwon pleaded from behind you.

You shut your eyes and exhale at his words, the thought of what you've been living for passing through your mind. You've always lived for the people around you. That's just how you've been till recently because they were the ones that left, thinking about themselves.

It was time you started living for yourself and it'd be a shame to die with no meaning. Maybe, even if you died, you wanted at least the boy to live, the red-haired obnoxious, cold boy to live. He'd been the sole reason you were standing there and not dead already. He helped you and you'd wanted to do the same, keeping you bandaging his head aside.

You smile, your right arm shaking from the injury as you pulled the gun back as you saw in movies, the clicking sound acting as an affirmation to proceed. The man seemed rather amused with your dedication and that's exactly what you wanted him to think. Your finger grips the trigger and you fire, missing the mark by a whole lot.

The man erupts with roaring laughter as jungwon sighs with a sniffle. "why didn't you leave," he says, slumping to the ground. Your smile drops as the man bends over laughing, giving you time to switch the gun in your arm. You hand the firearm to your left, cocking it once gun and readying your grip on the trigger.

Jungwon's father slowed inches up again, your ready stance going unnoticed reason, "silly girl, thought you really had a chance?" You scrunch your face, "yes," you snarl, firing the gun with the pistol traveling toward his head and breaking through. He drops to the floor, your hand letting go of the gun while you hit the floor with a thud.

You crawl over to jungwon, "i made it, didn't i," you express with triumph, managing to your feet and hauling jungwon on your shoulder. You carry the rather unexpectedly light boy out of the warehouse and to the road where a car stood parked.

"wait," jungwon says, the reverberation of his voice passing through your shoulder as he slumped against you. You halt with a hum, turning back to look at him, "i have to do something before we go,"

"do what?" you ask, pondering over his words. He stumbles to you rather quickly and leans forward, pressing his bloodied lips to yours, the connection sending a shock throughout your body, your lips moving slowly, your shock evident.

He pulls back, looking at you endearingly with a smile. A smile you'd never seen, and one you had been meaning to see. An expression that contained so much meaning and emotion, one you wanted to treasure forever. Not the night sky filled with millions of stars or the flower bed extending into the setting sun could compare to the beauty his grin held and you'd give everything to see it again. You had someone to live for besides yourself, and it was him, the red-haired peculiar boy you saw in the field of flowers and you would continue to see for the rest of your life.

What you remained oblivious to the fact that jungwon was the one who killed your father to get ahold of you, unbeknownst to him that he'd fall for the very girl he was ordered to capture and kill. He revolted against the order which brought you to the warehouse, kidnapped by his superiors. You lived with him unknown to the fact till he took his life years later along with yours, unable to retain the guilt he carried. Yet, he still loved you till the very end, to the point he'd kill himself for you, and he did, years later by his hand as you mumbled a quiet "I love you." to him, his reply the same with a croak. He died when his youth was dead, much like his tainted soul.

thanks for reading♡

537 notes · View notes

cynic-spirit · 1 day

Text

The insult

The room was filled with tense silence as the group gathered for a high-stakes meeting. Yn was seated a little away from the negotiating table, absorbed in a book, her presence barely noticeable to those involved in the serious discussion.

The negotiation was progressing smoothly until a man, known for his cutthroat business dealings, made a shocking proposal. He leaned toward Bucky with a smirk, his eyes glinting with a mix of arrogance and calculation.

“You know, Barnes,” the man Viktor said, his tone casual, “I’ll waive off 2 million extra if you throw in that red lips on the table.”

The room fell into stunned silence. Bucky’s expression hardened instantly. His entire demeanor shifted from calm and collected to a cold, dangerous intensity. His eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched with barely contained anger. The insult against Yn, his cherished and respected partner, had crossed a line.

Without a word, Bucky gestured sharply to Jorah, one of his most trusted men. “Jorah, take Yn to another room. Now.”

Jorah, accustomed to Bucky’s commands, quickly moved to Yn’s side. “Miss Yn, if you could please come with me,” he said, his tone polite but firm. Yn, unaware of the unfolding tension, looked up from her book with a curious expression.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

“Everything is fine,” Jorah reassured her, guiding her gently but firmly out of the room. “Just a change of location for a moment.”

As Yn was escorted to a separate room, Bucky’s focus returned to the man who had dared to make such an offensive suggestion. His voice, once calm, was now a dangerous growl. “What did you just say?”

The man, realizing his mistake too late, tried to backtrack, but it was clear Bucky had already made up his mind. With a swift, ruthless motion, Bucky signaled to his men. The room erupted into chaos as Bucky and his associates unleashed their fury.

Fists flew and weapons were brandished. The man who had disrespected Yn was quickly overpowered. The sounds of violence filled the room, punctuated by the man’s cries of pain. Within moments, he lay in a pool of his own blood, barely conscious, barely moving. The scene was brutal and unrelenting.

Bucky, his rage barely contained, stood over the man. His voice was icy and unforgiving. “No deal. Get this garbage of a man off of here.”

The remaining members of Bucky’s crew swiftly moved to dispose of the man’s body, ensuring that no trace of him remained. The room was cleared of the bloodshed, and the negotiation resumed as if nothing had happened.

Bucky, now calm and composed again, took his seat, his face betraying no sign of the violence that had just occurred. His focus shifted back to the business at hand. Sam, Steve, Thor, and Nick continued discussing the details of the deal, their expressions a mix of shock and resolve, but they respected Bucky’s silence and the unspoken agreement that they would not dwell on the violence that had just transpired.

In the other room, Yn remained blissfully unaware of the carnage that had occurred. She sat in quiet contemplation, occasionally glancing at the door, wondering why she had been removed from the main room but trusting that it was nothing serious.

After some time, Jorah returned to escort Yn back. “Everything is sorted now. You can go back in,” he said, his demeanor neutral but his eyes reflecting the weight of what had happened.

Yn followed Jorah back into the main room, her eyes searching for Bucky. When she saw him, he gave her a reassuring smile, though it was tinged with an underlying tension that she didn’t quite understand.

“Is everything alright?” she asked as she approached him.

Bucky nodded, taking her hand gently. “Everything’s fine, doll. Just some business to take care of.”

Yn gave him a curious look but didn’t press further, sensing that Bucky was handling things. As the meeting continued, she remained by his side, feeling a mix of unease and trust. Bucky’s protective nature and the events she had inadvertently missed were a stark reminder of how deeply he cared for her.

Yn’s eyes were drawn to Bucky’s hand and Her gaze settled on his knuckles, which were noticeably bruised and discolored. Concern immediately etched across her face.

“Bucky…” she said softly, her voice tinged with worry. “What happened?” She gently touched his bruised knuckles, her fingers careful and tender.

Bucky flinched slightly at the contact but quickly masked his discomfort with a reassuring smile. “Nothing, doll. Just had a small disagreement.”

Yn’s eyes narrowed with concern, though she tried to remain calm. “A disagreement? It looks more serious than that.”

Bucky shrugged, though the pain was evident in his eyes. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Ignoring his attempt to downplay the situation, Yn reached for a small tube of ointment she kept in her bag for such occasions. She squeezed a generous amount onto her fingers and began to gently apply it to his bruised knuckles. Her touch was soft, yet purposeful, as she worked the ointment into his skin.

“Was the disagreement over something important?” Yn asked, her voice steady as she continued to tend to his hand.

Bucky watched her with a mixture of admiration and appreciation. “Yes, it was about something very important to me.”

Yn met his gaze, her eyes filled with understanding as she applied the ointment with careful precision. “I see. I hope it was resolved?”

Bucky nodded, his expression softening. “Yes, it was resolved. Everything’s taken care of.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Yn said with a warm smile, her fingers gently massaging the ointment into his knuckles. “You deserve to have everything resolved smoothly.”

She finished applying the ointment and looked at his knuckles, inspecting them closely. “I think this should be fine now,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile.

Bucky flexed his hand tentatively, noticing the relief that came from her care. “They’re perfect now,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. “Thank you, doll. You always know how to make things better.”

Yn smiled, her gaze lingering on him with affection. “I’m glad I could help. Just remember to be careful, okay?”

Bucky nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “I will. Thanks to you, I’m feeling better already.”

As Yn placed the ointment back in her bag, she looked at Bucky with a gentle, reassuring smile. The simple act of caring for his bruised knuckles had reinforced the depth of their connection. For Bucky, the sight of Yn’s concern and the comfort of her touch made him feel more grounded, even amidst the chaos of his world.

Watching her focused expression, Bucky was overwhelmed by a profound realization. Every delicate movement she made, every concerned glance she cast his way, spoke volumes about the depth of her care for him. In this quiet, intimate moment, he saw her not just as his partner but as the most cherished and irreplaceable part of his life.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. He had always known Yn was important, but now, seeing her so attentively tending to his injuries, he understood the true magnitude of her place in his life. She was his anchor in a turbulent world, the one person who consistently offered him genuine affection and unfiltered care amidst the chaos and ruthlessness of his existence. Her kindness, her quiet strength, and the way she looked at him with concern and love made him see how deeply he had come to rely on and treasure her.

As Bucky absorbed this revelation, his thoughts drifted back to Viktor, the man who had disrespected Yn and caused such turmoil. The anger he felt towards Viktor was rekindled, not just for the disrespect shown to Yn but for the thought that such an insult had gone unpunished. The severity of the situation was clearer now; it wasn’t just about business or power—it was about protecting the one person who meant the most to him.

Bucky's eyes hardened as he reflected on the violence he had unleashed in response to Viktor’s insult. He had thought he had dealt with it adequately, but now he realized that his response had been insufficient. Viktor’s offense was more than just an affront; it was a direct threat to something he held more precious than anything else in his life—Yn.

The room seemed to fade around him as Bucky's mind replayed the moments of violence, and he knew with certainty that Viktor had not been punished enough. The thought of someone daring to disrespect Yn in any way, to undermine her dignity or her worth in his eyes, filled him with a renewed sense of fury. He felt that Viktor’s punishment had to be more severe, more fitting of the insult he had dared to inflict upon the woman Bucky loved and cherished above all else.

Bucky looked at Yn, his gaze intense and filled with an unspoken promise. He knew he would not rest until Viktor had been made to pay fully for his transgressions. The safety and honor of Yn were non-negotiable, and he was prepared to go to any lengths to ensure that her dignity and respect were upheld.

“Thank you, doll,” Bucky said softly, his voice carrying a note of deep gratitude. “You mean more to me than anything else in this world. I just realized how much you’ve come to mean to me. And Viktor... he’s going to pay for what he said. More than he’s paid already.”

Yn looked up at him, her eyes filled with genuine concern. “Is everything alright, Bucky?”

Bucky smiled, though it was tinged with a fierce determination. “It will be. Just needed to take a moment to remind myself of what really matters. You’re my everything, and I won’t let anyone disrespect you. Not now, not ever.”

Yn’s smile softened, touched by his words and the depth of his commitment. “I appreciate that, Bucky. And I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Bucky felt a surge of warmth and resolve. He knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, Yn would remain his greatest source of strength and love. And as he looked at her, he was certain that nothing would stand in the way of protecting the precious bond they shared.

#bucky barnes mafia #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky #mafia bucky barnes fluff #mob bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #mob #mob au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn

9 notes · View notes