#and okay I might still be a little hungover

[norahastuff]

.

[kurtcobainsgreencardigan]

somebody liiIiiiikes meeeeeee

i like you and i love you but omg that was so embarrasing pls delete that<3

[yesimwriting]

but i think deep (or maybe not so deep) down,, felix thinks he's going to end up with reader,, like they're meant to settle down together one day

This made me imagine a scenario where bestfriend!Felix is cuddling with reader and they have a conversation that goes something like this

Felix: what would you name our children?

Reader: ??Children??! We haven't even kissed though??

It's funny to think that Felix is imagining his entire future with reader and reader is over here still clueless and thinking they're just really close friends 😭

omg he for sure would bring this up himself and then immediately gets flustered if reader entertained the thought,, he's so neat 🩷

----

The morning, or, more accurately, the early afternoon is slipping away. It's almost impossible to feel the passage of time while tangled in Felix's sheets, but you're sure it's too late in the day to still be in bed like this.

You and Felix have been quiet, like you always are when you first wake up after a long night out, too groggy and hungover to do much more than be next to each other. Conversation usually leads to the end of the morning's peacefulness anyway, with one of you mentioning something about breakfast or class or other weekend plans.

You're glad to lay here as long as possible, taking your time memorizing the feel of Felix's skin beneath your fingertips. But you and Felix have been awake for awhile now, and you do still have that homework that Felix convinced you could wait until later.

"Okay," you mumble, voice raspy with sleep, "It's been awhile." You smooth your knuckles against his bare shoulder. "We should get up."

He groans, shifting off of his side and onto his back. "Few more minutes." You're about to protest when he stretches out an arm, searching blindly until his palm finds your back. You sigh at the suggestion, but still move to rest your cheek against his chest. "It's Saturday."

Warmth begins to burn its way up your chest. Despite how comfortable you are with Felix, you're still never sure how to act when he decides to go to bed shirtless. "And I have an essay for Redman's class."

He trails his fingers down your back. "That's not due until the end of the week."

You lift your head, chin pressing into his side so you can properly glare. "How do you know that?"

He smiles, the look much too pleased for something so small. "Had lunch with Ollie yesterday."

Right. You should have guessed the answer. Oliver's the only person in that class that you know, which is kind of nice in its own way. You always have someone to sit and do group work with, and if you ever have to be absent you know Oliver takes good note. However, it also means that there's someone to let Felix know your deadlines. Which is usually okay, unless you're in the mood to work ahead and Felix is in the mood for anything else.

"He is such a homework snitch."

Felix laughs, "Homework snitch?"

"You know what I mean."

"'Y'mean," he starts, his thumb brushing past your shirt's collar, "You're sick of me and looking for an excuse to leave."

You roll your eyes, dipping your head forward and pressing a quick kiss against his side. "Exactly." Felix attempts to glare, but with the way his nose scrunches slightly at the unexpected contact, it falls flat. "You know I'm never tired of you."

"Really?" You nod, more focused on the realization that Felix might be ticklish than his probing tone. "Never?"

You nod again, the motion absentminded, "Never." Carefully, you lift your head a little more, propping it up on one arm. "Lex, are you ticklish?"

"No."

Too immediate, too firm.

You're quick, hand moving off a pillow, fingers aiming for his side. Felix is faster, his arm shifting forward in an attempt to stop you. You move your arm back, fingers brushing against his lower side. Felix laughs, the sound nervous. You grin, satisfied.

The brief moment you take to feel your feel victory is your downfall. Felix's hand presses against your wrist, pinning your hand flat against his stomach. "Lovie," he tries, still recovering from his laughing fit, "Play nice."

You look up at him, expression pure innocence, "I always play nice."

"Mhm."

His doubt is offensive. You pout. "I do." You attempt to straighten, Felix's hold on your hand tightens. "I'm going to lay down." He eyes you skeptically. "As a sign of goodwill. Promise."

He loosens his grip before turning your palm over. You intertwine your fingers, squeezing his hand as you lay your head down. "Any plans for today?"

"No." Felix smooths circles against your back. "Just you."

You're glad that your head's turned away from him so that you don't have to mask your grin. "Good."

"Good?"

You drag your thumb against his knuckles. "You know I'm prone to fits of jealousy."

Felix laughs so gently you feel the movement of his chest more than you hear it. "Sounds like you."

Even though there isn't anything hilarious about your joke and Felix has done a lot more to go along with your bits, you laugh too.

Comfortable silence is just beginning to blanket the two of you again when Felix speaks again, "Lovie?" You hum in acknowledgement. "Do you--" He cuts himself off. "Do you want to get married?"

Now you're really glad that your face is turned away from him. "I--I'm going to need a better proposal before answering."

His hand briefly stalls against the fabric of your T-shirt. "No," he huffs the word in a way that's almost a laugh. "I didn't--I mean--I meant generally. At some point."

Oh. A serious question that's a lot less fun than when you could pretend he was proposing. "Oh--uh, I don't know. I mean, it didn't exactly work out for my mom, but some people seem to--" You let out a breath in an attempt to give yourself some time to think through your response. It's not like you've never thought about marriage, but it's not something you have a concrete answer on. "I think so, maybe."

Your own flakiness feels like a cop out response. You swallow before trying again, "If I can find someone I trust, like really trust." Squeezing Felix's hand for assurance, you give yourself another moment to contemplate. "And also, I'd have to be sure that they're the kind of person I can be around forever without feeling drained."

Finally feeling okay with your response, you're ready to move on by asking Felix about his own thoughts on marriage. Before you can turn the conversation, Felix says, "Like the way you trust me?"

Your face burns. "Yeah," you mumble, too distracted by your sudden shyness to even think to joke about it, "Something like that." You're still more flustered than you want to be. "I also said I'd have to not get tired of them, so..."

Felix scoffs, "Oh, don't start." He lifts the hand he's holding, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. "We'd be happy."

You're quiet because there's nothing you can say. Felix is only teasing, but the more you think about marrying him, the more real the joke feels. Even though he's only your best friend and there's nothing romantic about your relationship, you would be happy with him. How could you not? He's considerate, always putting your feelings first, and you could get used to a lifetime of waking up by his side.

"Do you have any name preferences?"

You lift your head enough to look at him. "What?"

Felix's gaze briefly meets yours before dropping his attention back to your intertwined hands. "Baby names."

Your lips part in surprise, and for a long second, all you can do is blink at him. "Are you still drunk?"

He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm making conversation."

Okay, a little weird, but if Felix is being so casual about it, maybe you're overthinking it. "Okay," you mumble skeptically, "You probably come with a ton of family, traditional names." His thumb brushes down the back of your hand. "I like the name Lux," you finally manage, "For a girl."

"Lux," he repeats, more to himself than you.

You let yourself openly watch him. "I guess it depends on how many kids we have."

Felix turns his head slightly, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. "Two or three." His eyes focus on the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. "I mean, I like the idea of two or three."

"Two or three?" You haven't given much thought to the number of children you want. You grew up an only child, mainly around your mother, and that was a little lonely despite her best efforts. You like the general idea of siblings, but with that comes multiple pregnancies and labor. "That's a long time to be pregnant."

He squeezes your shoulder, the gesture comforting. "We don't have to have them right away."

You lay your head down again, temple resting against his side. It's not a terrible thing to imagine, not in the slightest. Felix with a baby in his arms and a toddler or two hanging off his leg. Children with different combinations of your features--a little boy with your hair and his kind eyes, a baby girl with his charming smile and your nose.

Okay--that's enough of that train of thought. The last thing you need is to actually start wanting your best friend to propose. "Considering how far we are from married, I'd hope not."

"Wow," he breathes, dragging the word out. You turn your head, doing your best to look up at him. "I see."

"See what?"

His hand trails down your back warmly. "We're too young for me to propose."

Embarrassment has you attempting to pull away so that you can defend yourself. Felix doesn't let you get too far, his hand on your back making it hard to do much more than hold up your head. "No, I didn't--"

"We're still in school, Lovie. It'd be irresponsible."

The amusement coloring his expression has you glowering. He is so impossible. "Your tone is irresponsible."

"Moody." You're about to protest when he pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "Want to go to breakfast?"

You rest your chin near his stomach. "Is it early enough for breakfast?"

He turns his head, neck stretching at an awkward angle to look at his bedside clock. "If we go to the place down the road with the all day breakfast menu."

You smile, "Cool." You wipe at your eyes with the back of your palm. "You realize to go we have to get up, get ready..."

"Hm," he hums, pretending to contemplate, "Give me five minutes?"

You are starting to feel hungry, but everything's so much warmer this close to Felix. You're comfortable, and it's not like there's a time constraint on breakfast. "Okay, five minutes."

Felix grins, pulling your hand towards him again. He brushes his lips against the back of your palm. "That's my girl."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to hide any obvious signs of total contentment before laying your head down again.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

[queerbuckleys]

CAN I GO WHERE YOU GO? 920 words | bucktommy | 7x06 coda a/n: look it me! i wrote something :P just a soft little thing that i couldn't stop thinking about <3 idek how long it has been since i published something episode related lol so be kind and gentle if you please<3 title is kinda just what fit best lol, enjoy!

Buck twirls his niece around as music plays quietly over a speaker, barely loud enough to hear over the quiet chatter. He swings her up and deposits her next to her newly-wed parents, and they look perfect. Buck remembers the reception of her first wedding, his cheeks didn’t hurt from smiling then, they do now, and by the looks of it so do Maddie’s. 

“You might want to–” she points toward the chair in the corner that holds his beast of a boyfriend, a bottled water coming dangerously close to slipping from his exhaustion-induced slack grip. 

“I should get him home, the adrenaline has worn off. I love you both so much, and you,” he ruffles Jee’s hair and leans in for a group hug, placing a kiss in his sister's hair. If he thinks too hard about everything he might cry, so he leaves unsaid and squeezes her tight hoping she understands. 

He takes the water bottle from Tommy’s hands and stands between his legs, gently cupping his cheek, “Hey, you are exhausted, let’s get you home. I’ll drive you.” 

And Tommy looks up at him through his eyelashes– how had Buck not noticed those before now? 

“You don’t have to– you should stay here. I’m sure Maddie–” 

“What she wants is for me to get you home safely, and visiting hours are almost over anyway.”

He can see Tommy trying to come up with a rebuttal, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something and then gives up.

Buck grabs Tommy’s turnout coat from the back of the chair, folding it over his arm and taking Tommy’s hand in his. 

“Congratulations again you two,” Tommy says as enthusiastically as he can before they turn toward the door.

—

Buck is awkwardly sitting at a table in the common area of Harbor. It feels weird to be in another station without his reason for being there within sight. Tommy had assured him that it was okay for him to sit, and if anyone gave him trouble to tell them that he was there with him. 

“Buckley! What are you doing here?” a familiar voice nearly makes him jump out of his seat. 

“Lu-Lucy! Hi.” 

She stands behind the chair across from him, leaning on her elbows on the top of the chair. And she actually waits for him to answer. 

“I-I’m waiting for Tommy. Had to swing by to drop off his turnouts and get his bag.”

Her brow crinkles a little and she cocks her head, “his shift ended hours ago?” 

“He uhhh, he came to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’s pretty exhausted so I’m driving him home.” 

“He went to a wedding after that fire? In his turnouts?”

“It was at the hospital, wild story really. And I asked him to be there, so he was.” he blushes a little as he watches her do a little math. 

“Donato! Are you bullying Evan?” Buck can hear the smile on Tommy’s lips as he feels his hand land on his shoulder. He looks up at his boyfriend, and Tommy leans down, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. He looks a little brighter after rinsing off in the station showers and changing back into his Henley. 

“I was wondering why you had table privileges,” she smiles. “So, Chim finally got hitched huh, tell him and Maddie congrats for me.”

“Will do,” Buck smiles at her, and she walks away toward what he assumes is the snack cabinet. “Let’s get out of here and you into bed huh?” 

“You read my mind.” 

—

There’s a stillness in the car as they sit in Tommy’s driveway. 

“Evan, come inside. You’ve had a long stressful day too.” 

It’s like Tommy is inside his head, he doesn’t want to be alone tonight, not when he didn’t have to be. 

“And if the texts you sent me last night are any indication, you also did it all while hungover which I’m sure wasn’t all that pleasant. And, besides, you still owe me at least one dance.” 

“You are practically falling asleep sitting up and you want to dance?” 

“It’s what I was promised.” 

TOmmy reaches over the console between them, turning Buck’s face toward him, leans in and kisses him in earnest. Not quite as intense as their greeting earlier and not as gentle as their first. “Just come inside please,” he says just above a whisper against his lips. 

“Okay.” 

—

Buck takes in Tommy’s little house, it’s cozy with some of its years showing. 

“You can move past the entryway Evan. Just take your shoes off.” 

“Oh,” he replies softly, barely having noticed that he was slightly frozen. He toes off his shoes.

“C’mere,” Tommy holds out his hand, a song that Buck doesn’t know the name of softly drifting from the speakers. He lands in his boyfriend’s arms and it feels like it’s exactly where he is supposed to be. One hand on his neck, the other clasped together in Tommy’s, his other hand resting on his waist. It’s mostly quiet as they sway in the middle of the small living room. 

“You know, I never really got the whole hot firefighter thing until I saw you walk through those doors?” 

“You really are adorable.” Tommy smiles.

“Thank you for today. It means a lot that you did really try your damndest and succeeded.” He says earnestly. 

“Of course. It was important to you.” 

And Buck can’t help but kiss him for that, and he does, because he can. 

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Can we finally call a Truce? ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x Fem!Hades!Reader Synopsis: After hanging out, they are now calling each other friends. But now Percy's lonely at his dorm !!! Warning(s): some swearing Word Count: 3160

╰➤ MASTERLIST pt2

After you kicked Percy out, you went to bed and crashed. And by crashed, you plopped on your stomach without changing and fell asleep till 9AM. Never have you been happier to not have a class today. When you finally woke up, you grabbed your phone to check your messages and saw Annabeth texted you five minutes ago.

'I'll be there in 15 minutes for breakfast :P'

Alright so you had ten minutes to get ready. As you got up to brush your teeth you kept going through your messages and saw one from.. Percy? Forgot you had his number honestly.

'yo Y/N, I had fun last night. u still suck tho LMAOO'

Oh okay.

'Ur a ball of sunshine yk that'

And with that you put your phone down and finished getting ready to meet Annabeth. While getting ready you were debating on whether or not you would've told her of last night. It's not like anything happened, but getting drunk till 1am with a boy might be seen a little.. you know. You also were debating on not telling her because it was actually kind of fun, to be fair you were insulting each other the whole time but it was funny.

'Knock, knock'

Gosh, pounding noises. You rushed over to the door and opened it to see the amazing Annabeth in all her glory. As she handed you a glorious treat, coffee, you guys headed to get some actual food.

"Thought I'd grab you a coffee since you missed the party to do homework, god knows how long you stayed up. Freakin scholar" Annabeth said. What a scholar I am, instead of finishing my late work, I got hammered with the one guy who absolutely turns my gears.

"Yeah about that, um, I didn't really do that much studying that night" you said. "I ended up drinking half a bottle of vodka till like, almost 2AM." You took the chance to take a big sip of your drink while Annabeth gave you such a perplexed look.

"Who the hell would spend the night drinking alone when there's a party going on with all your friends" Annabeth asked.

"Well I wasn't alone" you said, now Annabeth was really confused. "I was with Percy." As Annabeth screamed you took the chance to take another long sip of your coffee.

"What. You spent the night drinking with PERCY. What happened to" and here she goes with her air quotes "we hate each other?"

"We still do, we just put it a side for the night and got drunk, we were still insulting each other the whole time. Nothings changed" you stated calmly.

"Yeah okay. Clueless" Annabeth rolled her eyes.

"If you keep doing that, they're gonna get stuck like that" you both started laughing. Finally you made it to the cafeteria, where you saw Percy getting a donut. You decided to walk up to him.

"Wow, a donut already? Are you just big or hungover" you made yourself laugh as Annabeth caught up behind you her the banana she snagged.

"Well, the ladies like to say I'm big and hung if that's what your asking." Wow, just wow.

"Why do I even bother sometimes" you said while rubbing your temples.

"Because of how awesome and beautiful everyone says I am" Percy gloated.

"Oh right, then you woke up right" you smile and tilted your head while pointing at him.

"Are you only nice to me if I have alcohol" Percy asked while smiling.

"Perhaps, why? Do you have more" you joked.

"At 9AM? You know your a Hades kid, not a Dionysus kid right" Percy asked.

"Did you know you're supposed to be a half-blood, not a walking pain in my ass, right? I guess we're all multi-talented like that" You said. You and Annabeth started laughing as he gave you a side-eye, laughing just a little bit. That's when you and Annabeth walked off to go get some pancakes.

"You sure nothing happened last night" Annabeth asked as you both took a seat in front of each other.

"Extremely sure, why do you ask" you said.

"Well, I know you guys were insulting each other, but that felt.. different." Annabeth thought was truly on to something when she said that. Almost felt like swiping the tray straight from her.

"Literally nothing has changed" you said.

"Um no. You don't seem upset about having had a conversation with him." Oh she really thought she hit the nail on the head with that one.

"Okay Ms. Detective, let's enjoy our breakfast and meet up with Silena when we're done okay?" And with that you both kept eating. After you guys finished, you both got off and walked with your arms interlocked towards Selena's class. When you got there the bell rang revealing the gorgeous Silena.

"Hey guys" greeted Silena.

"Guess who Y/N got drunk with last night" Annabeth was jumping up and down waiting for Silena to answer. Not even a hello or good morning.

"What, who!!" Silena screeched.

"PERCY" Annabeth is so excited over nothing it's crazy.

"Finally they-" you cut Silena off.

"They nothing! Nothing happened! We got drunk and acted like we always do. Now, let's move on shall we" You said with a psycho looking grin on your face. The pair muttered an agreement and reluctantly moved on. As you guys walked around campus, just hanging out you got a text on your phone from.. Percy.

'hey styx girl, you busy?'

You giggled at the underworld nickname. This sadly caught your friends attention.

"Oh? Giggling at your phone?" Silena leaned over.

"Whose texting you hm" Annabeth was also now leaning over.

"Oh, um, Its nothing. Percys just asking if I'm busy right now." Great they're screaming now. Oh my gods.

"YOUR NOT BUSY" they yelled simultaneously.

"Honestly I might go just to get away from you crazy people" you said.

"Fine with us" said Annabeth.

"Oh" you said, "so you guys hate me is what your saying"

"So, so much. Now tell Percy you're not busy." You, reluctantly, listened to Silena.

'No I'm not busy what's up'

And he responded instantly? Lets calm down now.

'alright then, grab a bathing suit and meet at my dorm'

"So, um, I gotta go guys. I'll catch up with you later kay" The two girls quickly waved you off knowing exactly where you were going, and who you were finding.

As you ran off to your dorm to change, you continued to wonder what your friends were seeing between you and Percy. What kind of relationship consist of two people constantly poking fun at each other.

And finally you made it to your dorm. You quickly changed to the first bathing suit you found, a dark red two piece. You threw on some shorts and a black tube top, and headed out. Not before being stopped by Nico.

"Where are you going" Nico questioned.

"Out" you said.

"With who, Percy?" Nico interrogated.

You hit a quick 180 and looked at Nico. "Hm? What?"

"Yeah, Percy? The same guy you stuffed in your closet last night? And the same guy you threw out that very door thinking I wouldn't notice?" Oh wow, this might be the true detective here.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you put that all together, but yeah I'm gonna go see Percy" you admitted.

"So what, are you taking my advice now?" Nico smirked up at you.

"What? What ad-" you trailed off, then you remembered. The library. "What no! Gods no, can't we just hang out?"

"Whatever you want Y/N, love ya, bye" Nico waved you off.

"Yeah, yeah love you too Nico, bye" you waved and walked off the door.

That kid got a WHOLE lotta nerve. Whatever. You then made your way to the Poseidon dorms. When you finally got there, you walked up to Percy's room. And just as you were about to knock, the door swung open.

"Wow, were you waiting by the peephole? Obsessed much" you joked.

"No I just felt your strange presence infecting my home" Percy said.

"Remember you invited ME over" you said as you pointed his finger in his chest.

"Yeah okay" Percy grabbed your hand, swatting it away. His hand lingering for an extra few seconds. "Let's go, shall we!"

He lead you out his doorway. As you guys entered the Poseidon common area, you walked toward the back door. It had a walk way that stretched over to the beach.

"I forgot you got a whole beach to yourself" you said.

"Meaning, we have a whole beach to ourselves" Percy said as he looked at the ocean. "Sorry I didn't supply-" he turned to look at you, but you already through down your clothes and were halfway to the ocean. Percy took after your example and threw down his shirt as he ran after you. You both collapsed into the ocean. Laughing at all the salt water you got into your mouth.

"Wanna see something cool" Percy asked.

"How cool is it" you asked.

"Extremely" Percy gloated.

"I've caught you watching paint dry, so the bar is very low" you retorted.

"No but this is actually cool follow me." And with that Percy grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. "Hold on tight." You guys were close. So you said something smart.

"Have you ever heard of something called a breathe mint, preferably spearmint?" Wow.

"Every chance you get huh." Without letting you answer, Percy dove the both of you underwater and quickly sped forward 100 feet into somewhat deeper water, and sprung you both above the surface.

"Gods, that's how you swim" you said dazed.

"What, you don't do that" Percy said stupidly. Then he went quiet for a few seconds. 'whats happening.' And before you had the chance to speak up, these two sea horse looking things popped out the water. Wait, these are hippocampi. Holy shit, you'd never seen one before, and they were really cute. Your mouth was agape while Percy spoke to them.

"Told you they were cool" Percy said. You just shook your head. Nobody moved for a split second. "So you gonna hop on one, or are gonna stay close to me?"

"I can ride one?!" You turned to Percy wide-eyed. He shook his head. You quickly hopped off of Percy and hopped on the hippocampi while Percy did the same.

"Hold on tight" Percy said. You decided you'd, for once, just listen to Percy. And with that, the sea creatures sped off into the ocean. This might've been the coolest thing you've ever done. Sure summoning ghosts are cool but, this is really fun. You guys were riding around, laughing and racing each other till the sun went down.

"Yo Y/N, are you getting kinda hungry" Percy asked. As you opened your mouth to answer him, you stomach let out a loud rumble. You both laughed. "Let's go to the cafeteria and get some food." You happily agreed.

You guys got dressed and walked down to get some food together. You two were joking together and going back and forth with each other till you got to the cafeteria. You both then walked up and grabbed some pizza then sat together. Munching.

"You know what Percy" you started as you took a bite from your pizza "your actually not that bad."

"Wow, is that a compliment" Percy said, jokingly shocked.

"Take it however you want" you said.

"I'll take it as you declaring your love for me" Percy laughed and you just rolled your eyes.

"Haha, in your dreams" you said, taking another bite of your pizza. "But seriously, hippocampi are adorable. Sure Hades creatures are cool, but there not as fun to look at you know."

"Poseidon knows what it is" He's talking about himself by the way.

"Someones a little confident aren't they" you joked.

"Insulting me after I gave you the chance to meet one of the creatures you've always wanted to see since we were like 13 is actually crazy" Percy said. Wow, that's so long ago. Sometimes you forget how long you've known Percy.

"Wait, you actually remembered that, how sweet of you" you playfully pouted at him. He smiled and threw a napkin at you, making you laugh.

"Of course, you didn't shut up about it for like a month" he said.

"Yeah like five years ago, in our prime pranking age. I didn't think you listened to anything I ever said" you said.

"Just because I was putting Nair in your shampoo doesn't mean I was deaf" Percy said in a matter-a-fact tone.

"Yeah okay, fair enough. But hey, at least are pranking days are behind us, right?" you questioned.

"Right, they are." You both smiled. "Does this make us friends now or something?"

"Ugh, I mean if you want to be. No need to twist my arm about it" Percy dragged. This guy.

"You know I may just take it back, if I may" you gave him a side eye.

"You may not, but I love the enthusiasm" you both started laughing. After you guys finished your pizza, it was dark out and you remembered you still needed to finish the project you had due tomorrow. So, you both walked back to your dorm.

"Today was actually fun, thanks seaweed brain" you said approaching your door.

"No problem styx girl" Percy said. You both stood there in front of each other. No one was moving. Were you supposed to hug him, fist bump him, what is this silence. Then, the door opened, both of you whipping your heads toward it. And of course, the lovely Nico di Angelo was standing right there with his shit eating grin.

"Hey Y/N, you're back. Oh was Percy coming in too? Were you gonna have a sleep over or something" Nico rambled. This man needs to calm it down.

"Your sisters a nerd who needs to finish homework, so I'm getting banished to my dorm" Percy said, jokingly rolling his eyes.

"Let's remembered who ruined my homework to begin with" you pointed your finger in his face. "And banished is a strong word calm down."

"Okay you two break it up" Nico joked as he pulled you inside.

"Bye Percy"

"Bye Y/N"

And Nico shuts the door. Hand still on the doorknob as he turns to look at you. With his stupid grin never leaving his face. "Interesting, interesting."

"Whats so interesting" his grinning was contagious. You were now smiling too.

"You could at least admit that you think he's hot." Nico pleaded.

"I'm so tireddd" you playfully dragged making you both laugh as you two made your ways to your room.

"Why are you like this sometimes, you know I'm right." Damn Nico. You sat at your desk not even bothering to change before starting.

"Fine, whatever you're right. Are you proud of yourself, would you like a medal to go along with that" you taunted causing him to roll his eyes as he plopped down on your bed.

"I hope it shiny, now tell me what happened" Nico insisted.

"Percy introduced me to some hippocampi, and they might've been the coolest things I've ever seen, and we've taken trips to the underworld." You gloated.

"Interesting, he took you to see the creatures you didn't shut up about at camp" Nico asked.

"Yeah, he actually said that. How I never shut up about them for a month when we were 13" you remembered. "I didn't think he actually remembered that."

"Of course he did" Nico said.

"Whats that supposed to mean" you asked.

"Oh nothing, nothing. I'm gonna go take a shower" Nico got up and started walking out.

"Alright, don't slip" you chuckled to yourself.

"That happened" Nico whipped around, "ONCE." This caused you to cackled as he turned back out and shut the door on his way out. You turned back to your computer and started to get to work.

[10:47] PM

Finally, you were done with your homework and showered yourself from all that salt water.You thought about going to sleep but you just weren't tired. So you got a brilliant idea and texted a certain someone.

'Percy can I come over'

You put your phone down and waited. Two minuted went by before your phone went off.

'Miss me already?'

This made you roll your eyes. He sent another message

'come over'

You hopped out of bed ad threw on the first hoodie you found. You rushed out your room and as you headed out, you heard a special someone clear his throat behind you.

"Going out to see Percy again?" Nico said. You turned around to look at him.

"Wow Nico, we gotta stop meeting like this" you hoked, throwing your arms in the arm.

"Haha very funny, so you going to see Percy" Nico said.

"Yeah, um, I am. I don't even know why" you said.

"We all know why. Stay safe though" Nico said.

"Safe from what, your acting like a monsters gonna attack me" you said as you turned around to go toward the door.

"That's not what I meant, bye" Nico said.

"Bye Nico." you said as you shut the door behind you, now standing in the hallway. "Wait, then what did he mean.." you said to yourself. Then it hit you.

'I just got what u meant, ur weird'

You texted Nico and continued your way back to the Poseidon dorms. 'What were you doing.' Finally you got there and knocked on the door. After waiting a moment, the door opened revealing Percy. Maybe Nico was right, maybe that's why you're here. But that's no ones business but your own.

"Hey Y/N, good to see you again" Percy moved to the side letting you in.

"Hey Percy, did I wake you" you asked.

"Nope, couldn't sleep" he admitted.

"Darn, I was hoping I caused an inconvenience" you snapped your fingers. Percy laughed at your antics. You followed him to his room. You guys sat on his bed, just chatting away like it now wasn't almost midnight. You yawned, making Percy also yawn.

"Hey, I should start heading back" you said. You stared standing when Percy pulled you back down. You looked at him a little confused.

"Cmon, it's late. Just stay here and keep me company" Percy suggested. It sounded like a good suggestion you were tired, but you were thinking of what Nico would say if you went to Percy's dorm for the night and didn't come back. So you made a sound decision.

"Alright, if you insist" you said, falling back onto the pillow.

"Oh, I insist" Percy got up and turned off the light before laying down next to you. Both of you laid next to each facing each other, laying very close not saying anything. Both of you to tired to move, you just drifted off to sleep.

..............................................................................................................................Pt. 3?🫡

[silly4sillinger]

"Wake up, sleepy." "Mhmt hm." "Even if I brought you breakfast in bed? Well, it's more like brunch now, but still."

quinn trying to get his sleepy gf to wake up

"Wake Up Sleepy" Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!reader

"Wake up, sleepy," Quinn says gently, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"Mhmt hm," you mumble, burying your face into the pillow, not ready to face the day yet.

Quinn laughs softly, leaning closer. "Even if I brought you breakfast in bed? Well, it's more like brunch now, but still."

"Brunch?" You ask.

Quinn nods even though you can't see him, "I made some pancakes and bacon. And there's coffee, of course."

The mention of food makes your stomach growl. "Okay, you win," you say, waking up slowly. "I'll get up."

"That's my girl. Don't take too long waking up or it might turn into lunch instead."

You roll your eyes and sit up, feeling groggy, disoriented, and still a little hungover due to the aftermath of girls night last night.

The room is bright, and you squint against the light, trying to make sense of the world around you as Quinn sets your food on your lap.

"Thank you. I love you."

"You're welcome. I love you too."

[aemondsbeloved]

Eye Of The Beholder

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x blind!reader

summary: When Aegon is betrothed to the daughter to one of the wealthiest houses in Westeros who happens to be blind, he has no expectations or plans to fulfill his duty well. Until he meets her (2.8k)

warnings: mentions or slight references to abuse (Otto I hate you!!!) and Aemond being a bit of a smartass to Aegon but Aegon deserves it okay lol, unedited

Aegon was drunk, again, and it was little surprise to anyone at the table. He was on his second glass at this meal and saw no reason to deprive himself. He did not deprive himself of anything, truly.

“I did not have us break fast together for no reason,” he heard his mother say vaguely, his head a little foggy from the liquor.

The harsh slap on the back of his head seemed to shake the fog off though, and Aegon could only briefly scowl at his grandsire’s actions.

Otto Hightower might not have been the Hand of the Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms anymore, and truthfully only stayed in the Red Keep due to his half-sister’s good faith to his mother, but this did little to curve Otto’s inclinations towards an authority he didn’t hold anymore.

“Listen to your mother,” he told his grandson lowly.

At this Aegon only looked up, setting the cup down rather loudly with an expression painly bored. “Yes?” He asked, clearly not at all interested as he rarely was.

“It is important for House Targaryen to make wise matches and you, my son, will be the first to be married,” Alicent said, some reluctance to continue in her voice. “Lady Y/N is a wise choice. You two are close in age and her house is not only incredibly wealthy but well connected. This will strengthen the realm.”

Aegon did not dare look at anyone except his mother. He was sure that Aemond would look too pleased at him having to do his duty for once and Aegon wasn’t so sure he could bear the smirk his brother so often wore on his face.

“I assume I have little say in the matter,” he mumbled, agitated with everyone looking at him.

Alicent faltered, perhaps having some sympathy. Her father cut in though, not allowing for what he deemed weakness. “Our vaults are low and the Lady Y/N’s house are our allies but have no real connection to our house. The marriage is the best we could hope for you. That isn’t to mention her sizable inheritance that will go to you as her husband.”

“Fine then,” Aegon huffed before his eyebrows creased, confusion sinking in after a moment. “A dowry?”

For a house so wealthy to give a dowry besides the lands Lady Y/N would inherit was odd. So odd that even Aegon in his drunken stupor could see that.

“Is she that ugly then?” he asked, not rudely but with some boredom. What did he care really, when they lay together he didn’t have to look at her.

“No,” his mother rebuked in a brisk voice before hesitation, looking at her father for guidance. “She is, however, blind. Lady Y/N is said to be quite beautiful as the rest of the women of her house but she lost her sight very young.”

Aegon laughed, finding this whole matter quite amusing and could not help himself but poke fun. “A pity she was not getting married to my dear brother. They have more in common than we will I dare say.” Aegon drank more wine, cutting into his meat as he indulged himself. His family looked on at him as they usually did — disappointed with a touch of disgust.

“You will be kind to her, Aegon,” Alicent insisted. “You can save your vulgarity for Flea Bottom, but not to your betrothed.”

The amusement had faded too quickly and he was still not drunk enough to have a dreamless sleep tonight. “Yes, mother,” he said, almost dutifully, though it was an imitation. If he were Aemond it would be genuine but he was not his brother.

The very next morning, Aegon found himself distinctly hungover when you had arrived to Kings Landing the very next day with your Lord Father. You were beautiful as his mother had claimed though he eyed you wearily.

He was glad he did not have to marry his sister but the thought of being married to someone either way was an idea that he chafed at. Your beauty hardly dulled the grim future of his.

The clothes and jewels you wore made it obvious that your house was as wealthy as his mother said. As you moved rather gracefully from your carriage for someone who had no sight, he considered the girl your age next to you who must have been your handmaiden as she held your elbow to make it easier for you to know your surroundings.

“Your Grace,” said your father, a burly man covered in fine silks and a very broad smile. He bowed deeply and regardless of his cheer it seemed to be one of respect. “You honor my house with this marriage. May I introduce my daughter?”

Letting go of the hand of the girl, you moved forward with a smile as you stood besides your father. Curtseying to the Queen, you stood straight up again.

“My lady,” the Queen said warmly, moving down the steps to greet you and your father. “It is such a pleasure to meet you. Might I introduce my children?”

Though you could not see him, you heard light footsteps that sounded purposeful on the gravel as they moved forward. “My youngest, Prince Aemond,” the Queen said before you heard another set of footsteps, lighter but not as purposeful, almost like they took their time wandering before meeting you. “My daughter Princess Helaena,” she continued before you heard footsteps that rung of hestiation but were not light at all. “My eldest son and your betrothed, Prince Aegon.”

You smiled, tilting your chin down in greeting. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” you said kindly. “I have heard many things, Prince Aegon. It is wonderful to meet you at last.”

You had no way of seeing the blanching of Aegon’s face nor did you see the barely hidden worry on the Queen’s as she wondered if you had heard of Aegon’s drunken behavior and habits all the way in the seat of your house.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he said, sounding very much unlike himself.

Gentle hands, so soft they might have never touched a sword, grabbed one of yours. Gentler still, he raised it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the knuckles. Everyone seemed pleased enough at the exchanged and he slowly dropped your hand.

His mother had been quick to escort you into the castle. Was it from fear from what he might do? Did she find him so depraved? Maybe her conclusions were justified.

“You are lucky your future lady wife has no sight,” Aemond stood behind Aegon’s shoulder. He did not need to turn around to see his brother smirking. As much as Aemond chastised Aegon for not caring about his duties he enjoyed pointing out every misstep Aegon made. “You will never get to see the disappointment in her eyes at least.”

Aegon snapped he neck to look at huis younger brother. “Who’s to say I’ll disappoint her?” he bit out the words, a glare directed at Aemond. The effect was nonexistent on Aemond who merely kept smirking and looked down at the elder brother he detested.

“It is in your nature.”

Long after Aemond had left the words plagued Aegon. Supper had come and passed. The conversation in the hall the small fast was held was amicable. That evening he had eyed your father who had laughed joyously at nearly anything said to him. Aegon took it with a grain of salt because nothing his grandsire said was humorous. He found he did not even mind your company too much as time went on.

It was when he was in his rooms that he realized he had not touched a drop of wine. The last time he did not drink at supper was— well, Aegon could not say. The morning he had planned on going to the street of silk. When he instead fell into his own bed he decided that he did not wish to go because he was tired. There could be no other reason.

Aegon hated early morning and he loathed going into the royal gardens. He was not his brother and did not decide to wake at the crack of dawn to train with Ser Criston nor was he Helaena who enjoyed sitting in the gardens for hours. But he had heard you yesterday when you mentioned the gardens, something about how your gardens in your seat were not as extensive as the ones in the Red Keep.

He had not told you he would show you them the next day. He had no reason to be up early when he knew you would break fast with your family. And yet, he was dressed and leaving his rooms so early with the intention of seeing you.

“Are you well?” his mother asked when she crossed his path in the morning. Already doned in her green dress and gold jewelry she startled at the sight of him. His brushed hair, lack of scent of wine and pristine clothes were something to marvel at.

“Yes,” he said tersely, rolling his eyes. He was quick to walk past her to where your family was staying in the Keep. “If you don’t mind mother, I have somewhere to be.”

He was turning a corner before Alicent could say anything. She stared at his retreating figure in confusion.

“Is the lady free right now?” he asked the handmaiden who had answered the door when he alerted the guard. The girl blinked a few times, the picture of confusion before she rather comically smiled at him. She moved into the rooms, entering the solar while leaving the door wide open. After a moment Aegon reluctantly entered.

There you sat with your father at a round table looking as though you were finishing breaking fast. “Prince Aegon!” the old man announced, lifting his arms in greeting. “Have you eaten yet, your grace? Come, come. Sit with us, I must insist!”

Even though you had no sight Aegon thought you glanced his way. Maybe he was desperate to be seen. Regardless he noticed you looked flustered at your father’s words. “Father,” you admonished him in a hushed tone. Aegon thought your voice sounding sweet like honey. “Do not be so brash.”

Aegon stepped forward, trying his best to look grateful towards your father. “I appreciate the offer my lord,” he said with what he thought sounded grateful. He sounded so proper he almost thought he was a decent imitation of Aemond. If he more stiff and humorless it would be an excellent copy. “I have just had my fast,” he smiled with what he thought might be nerves, which was ridiculous. Aegon hadn’t been nervous in years. He looked at you not caring that you could not see him. “But I had hoped you might allow me to show you our gardens? It is a nice morning and I remembered you mentioning your love for flowers.”

Your father puffed out his chest as he looked at you a nearly prideful smile on his face. You seemed to ignore him and smiled softly at Aegon. “I would enjoy that very much, my prince.”

He let out a breath he had not known he been holding. Moving to the table he offered his arm. Maybe you sensed his presence near you as you grasped his arm. You neglected to grab the cane leaning against the table as you rose form your chair. Taking a step away from the table, the handmaiden looked at you quizzically.

“Would you like me to attend you my lady?”

Despite the question Aegon heard the urgency in her voice. Perhaps you often needed someone with you and she did not know if you would go with Aegon alone. Selfishly he did not want her to trail along.

“No thank you Clarissa,” you replied kindly, comfortably letting Aegon lead you out of your solar towards the door. “Prince Aegon will keep you safe.”

He was thankful you did not have your sight. If you did you would have seen him looking down at your face, lips slightly ajar and an expression that could not be mistaken for anything but pure shock and amazement even. He could not remember the time anyone had relied upon his for anything let alone safety.

“Your mother told my father to not expect your presence until the late afternoon,” you told him, your arm snugly in his as you both entered the royal gardens. “She said you are a late riser.”

He huffed a laugh. “Typically, I am, but she makes it seem better than it is.” Only his mother would mask the truth that he was drunk most of the time and slept off the wine sometimes only an hour before supper. Glancing at you and remembering how you acted last night at supper he thought you might have been clever. Still unsure what brought his new state of mind, he wished to be honest and leave behind the pleasant half truths his mother stuck to behind. “I did not drink last night. That may be behind the change, my lady.”

You hummed but it wasn’t a contemptuous like it usually was when Aemond did it. How many times he wanted to throttle his brother when he made that stupid noise. Aegon liked it coming from your lips, however.

“Yes, I did hear you are fond of your wine,” you replied in a voice as gentle as before but he saw the smile grow on your lips. “And women.”

He nearly choked on the air he breathed. The silence stretched for what could have been eons. “All true,” he admitted. The laugh you let out at his words was bemusement.

You had stopped walking and he had ceased his steps with you. Your arm still in his as you tilted your head in his direction. “Will you sleep with other women when we are wed?”

He started at your question. It held no resentment nor did it hold curiosity, but was as matter of fact as could be.

“Why?” he asked immediately before reprimanding himself. No, the answer should have been no. Even if it was a lie that was the only right answer. His shock began all over again when you smiled pleasantly.

“I want to know what to expect in my marriage,” you told him plainly and again, Aegon was perplexed at your lack of an opinion. “I wish to know what my husband will do when we are wed.”

His silence filled the conversation and he had realized just how patient you seemed. You touch on his arm was firm but not overbearing; Your facial features and touch alike held not harshness or brutality like he was used to.

“No, I will not sleep with other women when we are wed,” he said in a whisper. Strangely, he found himself believing his words. This was not the many lies and promises he told his mother; The promises to be better and to shape up that never came true as the half empty promises they were. You were but a stranger that would be bound to him for life and he did not desire to let you down. “I will not step in Flea Bottom again.”

“I will not object if you do,” you told him after a moment. “As long as we have an heir and a spare my father says anything else is unimportant. We can have separate rooms and—”

“Is that what you want?” he asked urgently, unaware of how he grasped your hand that held his arm. “Do you want a marriage of only convenience, not of something more?” When he started wanting something more he was unaware of this, but he knew that you were something he did not quite deserve. Already Aegon felt him strangely wishing for your attentions and affections that could not be given to any woman on the street of silk. He wanted to covet you.

You shook you head, a smile of more warmth on your lips. “I would like a marriage with love in it, my prince, but Queen Alicent had told my father to not expect as much.”

The crack that left Aegon in his heart was sharp but not undeserved. When had he given anyone in his family a reason to rely on him for anything except disappointment? Maybe he could not disappoint you. “I would very much like that, my lady. If you’ll allow me I would like to prove my worth as your lord husband.”

You had beamed a real smile, one that Aegon thought looked a bit like the sun on the hottest summer days in King’s Landing after the rain had finished pouring. Bright and gentle all at once as it shone past the gloom of the rain cloud now long gone.

“I would like that too, Aegon,” you told him as you began walking again down the path of the garden. “I have one request.”

“Name it, my lady,” he urged you immediately.

Again, you beamed at him. “Call me by my name when we are alone.”

He smiled and it did not feel like the grimace he had been calling his smile all these years. “With pleasure.”

+

taglist: @itsghostgirlyo @rosaryos @cullenswife @whatafreakingloser @witchofthenorthstar @m-indkiller @somemydayy @malfoytargaryen @bellameshipper @targaryenmoony @regandjamielola @tarrgaryenss @khaleesihavilliard @lacunaanonymoused @joliettes @mxrgodsstuff @margaglitterdeath @simplyarryn

comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[scp230kinnie]

Hi, would you okay writing some general headcanons on what it would be to date Hunter Sylvester from Metal Lords? Also, I just realized that he has mommy issues, and I have daddy issues so we’re perfect for each other💀

Yes :3

Hunter Sylvester dating Headcanons 😻

(Mostly gender neutral)

Likes to be little spoon but won’t admit it😇

Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together for, he still gets a bit embarrassed with lovey dovey stuff, but will do it anyway

He definitely has a mild fear of commitment. After his mom leaving (I’m so sorry💀) he STILL doesn’t trust that people won’t leave him

Hunter is attracted to confidence (not to be confused with arrogance) in a partner.

His standards for appearance are fairly low, however, he's looking more for personality than appearance.

Okay so you know how guys will “serenade” girls with their guitar and stuff,,, yeah. He doesn’t want to think of it as serenading, mostly just flexing his guitar skills on you

Everyone seems to forget that he’s CANONICALLY a mega virgin. He is not super flirty or anything. He’s probably never held hands with a girl.

You will probably have to be the one to initiate dates

When he does happen to be the one to initiate dates, it’s taking you to metal concerts lol

If you ask him out, he'll probably think that you're joking with him. He'll probably spend the entirety of the date thinking that.

He is insanely stubborn, so if and when you guys argue, he will absolutely stand his ground

Fights aren’t really that common, just because you’re probably his first partner, and he really doesn’t wanna mess that up.

If you guys are close enough, he does get clingy, but he doesn’t like to show that in public.

He would also never admit it.

He doesn’t let ANYONE except you play with his hair🙏

While I mentioned he has commitment issues, he does get attached very quickly

He’s also the jealous type for sure. He definitely doesn’t like seeing other guys flirting with you.

Or talking with you

Or looking at you

Moving on

He MIGHT share his clothes with you.

His hoodies/sweaters, automatic yes. He loves how they look on you

His band tees, usually a yes.

His jewelry and stuff is a hard maybe. Depends how he feels that day

He doesn’t like crying in front of you (or at all). He thinks it makes him less of a man

Sometimes he will let you comforting though

On the other hand, if he sees you crying, automatically full protection mode.

He will comfort you, buy you whatever you want, and threaten to punch whoever made you feel like that

Speaking of buying you things, he always does. If you’re in a store, looking at something like “hmm this looks good” he will pick it up and immediately have his dads credit card coming in clutch

If you’re type of person who smokes/drinks, he will let you, but he won’t be supportive of it. Seeing as he doesn’t do stuff like that.

He really doesn’t like seeing you drunk/high. He’ll be like “told you so” then proceed to take care of you/ be your tripsitter.

Tbh he does not care if you get hungover. He’ll just say some shit like “told you that’ll happen” then get you some aspirin and water then leave you to fend for yourself for a bit😭

He makes so many playlists for you, all consisting of his music taste

He also writes songs for you ❤️❤️❤️

The end guys

[miintsprigz]

Hi! I was wondering if I could ask for the Demo, Engie, and Heavy for the fear-punch prompt if that's okay. Thank you!

FINALLY WRITING THIS. I appreciate your patience so much, Anon. It means the world to me.

GN!Reader fear punching the Mercs, part 2

Characters: Demoman, Engineer, Heavy (Team Fortress 2)

Warnings: uh some stuff relating to anxiety/panic attacks, cuz fear response.

Part 1 can be found linked below!

Demo ⚔️

You finally had the base to yourself, or at least, you thought so. Everyone had been all up in arms lately, it was just exhausting. Having fixed a cup of your preferred hot drink, you went to walk back to your room.

A door suddenly opened loudly behind you, and with your free hand, you swung, not even registering what you were doing until your fist made contact.

“Hey—oof!”

Your mug clattered to the floor, breaking and spilling everywhere.

“Demo!?”

“…oh! Did I scare ya there? Sorry ‘bout that!” His eye caught the mess on the floor as you tried to catch your breath.

“…now, that won’t do—”

“Tav, lemme—”

“No, no; I scare you, you drop it, tis only fair that I clean up the mess—”

Stumbling over to the closet to grab a broom, mop, whatever else he might need—still a little hungover—Tavish got to taking care of it in no time. He worked with surprising efficiency.

“Now, we oughta replace that drink o’ yours.”

“…Tav, I’m sorry.”

“Wha? Whatever for?”

“…I punched you…” Your voice shook a bit. The guy had only just woken up, and you’d socked him in the face.

He seemed confused at first, then touched the side of his face that you’d struck tenderly, realizing.

“Ah…that ya did.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Oh no, no! That’s alright, luv. Sometimes ya just get spooked. Used to do it to me mum all the time.”

“Really?”

He smiled in a somewhat tired sort of way. “Yup. Ya’d think I’d be more careful, especially cuz she couldn’t see me, but I guess I sorta forgot m’self there.”

Demo gave you a pat on the back, gentler than the usual. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’ve definitely knocked a few lads on the floor m’self, so trust me, I get it.”

“Thanks, Demo.”

“O’course, mate!” Your hair was lightly ruffled, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Want me to help ya replace that drink though? Heh, maybe I’ll make one for me, too!”

“That might be good. Do you want some ice though?”

“…nah, nah I think I’m good.”

Engineer ⚙️

It had been such a long day. You were more exhausted than you’d thought you were capable of being.

So when you arrived back at home base, you basked in the peace and quiet and decided to kick back and read for a bit.

Hearing sudden rapid, thundering footsteps, however, your adrenaline skyrocketed again, and so when the “intruder” inevitably entered…your adrenaline did the work.

The Engineer bursted into the room, clearly quite excited about something he was working on.

“Ah, (Y/N), c’mon, I gotta show ya—agh!!”

Your eyes locked onto him, staring daggers in fright as he rubbed at his jaw, wincing.

“Now what in Sam Hill—oh. Oh no.”

Those wide, terrified eyes told him all he needed to know. He didn’t even realize how suddenly he’d come flying in…

“…oh, darlin’. I scared the daylights outta you…”

“A little…” Your voice came out as a squeak, and all at once, everything became all too much. Tears flooded your field of view.

“Honey, I’m so sorry…”

“I, I didn’t mean to hit you…”

“Shh shh shh, I know…I know, I’m okay… lemme just…”

Offering open arms to silently ask first, Engie wrapped you in a hug when you stepped closer, petting your hair softly. He didn’t say anything really, aside from the occasional coo of reassurance that it really was okay.

There was a slight sway to him as he held you, trying to soothe the sudden rush of anxiety he’d accidentally triggered.

You knew, but between the fright and the guilt you felt for socking him in the face like that when he was just excited about something…you couldn’t help but cry for a minute or two.

After a bit, he pulled back, looking almost as though he could cry himself.

“I’m…sorry about that. I wasn’t thinkin’. I know ya had a long day, I just…”

“You were just excited to show me something.” With one last sniffle, you smiled over at him. “It’s okay.”

“…would ya still wanna see? I get it if uh, you’d rather have some time alone…”

“No, no! I’d love to see…”

That warm smile returned to his face once again. “You promise you’re alright?”

“I promise, Dell.”

With a nod, he took your hand sweetly. “Well alrighty. I think you’ll really love this, (Y/N), I’ve been tinkerin’ with this new feature for weeks, and I think I finally got it down!”

Chuckling, you followed after him, feeling your frantic heart slowing once again as his fingers gave your hand a light squeeze.

Heavy 🥪

You are in the thick of it now—bombs flying all over, a hail of bullets seemingly around every corner.

Truthfully? It was too much. But you had no intention of letting the enemy team know that.

Although it seemed cowardly to you, you ducked behind a corner for a minute to just…exist uninterrupted for a moment.

Your overwhelming didn’t go unnoticed though. Help was on the way…but you were unfortunately not able to fully recognize it.

A tap on your shoulder sent the tension building in your mind over the edge. Your fist made contact with the stiff gray of Heavy’s protective vest.

“(Y/N)! Is only me! Do not be afraid. Am here to help you.” Thankfully, the person you’d struck was basically a brick house. He had hardly felt it. He didn’t look angry…actually, he seemed worried.

“Uh…Heavy?!” “Da, it is me.”

“Well. I punched a friend. Great…” Looking down at your hands as you went to pick your dropped weapon up, they were shaking.

“Hold one moment, (Y/N).”

One huge hand carefully cradled yours, holding it steady.

“All due respect, I am giant man. Is very hard to hurt me. So do not feel so bad, okay?”

You tried to breathe, and it caught in your throat. Carefully setting Sasha to the side for a moment, Heavy looked down at you. Even with the chaos nearby, his eyes were so soft when he looked at you.

“Take deep breath.”

You followed that direction as best as you could.

“Very good. Again?”

It got easier.

“Perfect. Battlefield can be scary place…I know that too. Is okay to be afraid.”

He gave you a quick hug—it seemed he really was full of surprises today. His hand practically covered your shoulder as he gave it a pat when you pulled apart again.

“You need minute? Heavy is here! Giant man is on your side, remember?”

Now that you thought about it, maybe you’d be a little more prepared if you had a minute or two to yourself. “…could I just take a second back here out of range? I know it’s kinda chicken of me—”

“Not at all, (Y/N)! What do you think I carry sandvich for! Even big strong man need break. Smaller strong one like you no different.”

To your surprise, he actually handed you half of the tasty treat in question.

“Here. Enjoy, eat, and do not worry.” Picking up his minigun, Misha gave you a determined smile. “Heavy and Sasha will crush anyone who move too close until you are ready.”

If you weren’t where you were right now, it honestly might have made you cry. “Thanks, Heavy.”

“Of course, (Y/N). You are very important to me, you know that?”

A bit of warmth rushed into your face as he gave you one last grin before walking back out from behind your little shelter to face the opposing team.

“That’s right, I AM BACK! YOU MAY NOW RUN AWAY! HAHAHAHAHA!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you took a bite of the sandwich and breathed easy, knowing nobody would get within range of you anytime soon.

Whew! I hope that was good, Anon. I had fun writing it. I’d love more Heavy, Demo, and Pyro requests! I don’t write for them much but they’re a lot of fun!

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

The Morning After

Because we all need a little AM fluff sometimes lmao xx

A sharp sun ray hits his eyes, forcing him to squint before opening them again. He smiles. Everything hurts. Travis closes his eyes once more, exhaustion taking over his body and mind. There's a sharp contrast in the air: the cold breeze of the bedroom AC in this Vegas hotel, compared to the warm sun ray filtering through the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows. He hears a drawer opening and closing, a little spoon rustling. He realizes in that moment that he's alone in bed. The worst way to wake up today.

A strong and exhausted arm moves across the bed, almost as if reaching for the ghost of her. He sighs, having lost all sense of time and place. He won the Super Bowl. He did it. He did it all because of her.

Travis sighs again, feels himself get emotional again. Emotional, and.. drunk. He's forcing himself to pull the expensive blanket from his torso. Fully naked from the night before, he leaves the bedroom of the presidential suite. His entire body aches, yet the view before him makes him smile for the first time this morning. At the end of the room, he sees a tall blonde, wearing nothing but his shirt, fumbling with the coffee machine. She steps on her tiptoes for a second, reaching for one of the coffee pads from the shelf above the little coffee station. She's still not wearing any underwear, clearly having thrown his shirt over her body when she got up. He smiles and keeps on walking barefoot towards her, not hesitating for a moment before wrapping his big, strong arms around her.

She startles for a second, her cold hands and the little familiar giggle he loves so much in his ear. Travis sniffs into her neck, pressing his face as close as possible. Inaudible kisses reach her skin and a few strands of hair from her neck in between. This is where he always wants to be. Nuzzled into her skin.

"Oh my god, I literally didn’t hear you get up," she murmurs, both her hands now on his that are right on her stomach. She sounds tired and exhausted, just like he is. After a moment, Travis lets go of her neck, helping her turn around in his arms. The view makes him smile even more. Her eyes are puffy, puffier than she probably likes them to be in front of him, and her hair from last night is all over the place. But he adores seeing her like this. He adores climbing onto this next stage of their relationship together. She’s probably as hungover as he is. No question. This isn't the best version of herself. And he loves that he gets to experience it. He loves that he gets to love it, with every fiber of his being. Just the way she deserves.

"Good morning, sweetie." he murmurs, and she smiles tiredly, placing both her hands on his cheeks before giving him a proper good morning kiss on the lips. He pulls back and laughs quietly, his forehead meeting hers.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, feeling clearly that she's exhausted, more than usual. This is a next-stage tired Taylor he hasn’t encountered yet. Her eyes small, her face is pale and her hands cold. She seems off to him, seems a little more quiet than she usually is.

"Yeah, great…" She mumbles with a hint of sarcasm in her voice that makes him smile. "Woke up with a sore throat and my head exploding. I think the jet lag and alcohol just got the best of me."

Travis nods, his lips immediately finding her forehead again. He kisses her right over her bangs, both his arms rubbing her bare arms, almost as if this could make her hangover go away.

"Last week was a lot, baby."

She nods, her hands now on his chest while he holds her securely in his arms. She doesn’t even notice that he's naked. It's all about being close to him.

"Advil?"

"Yeah, I just feel like I need to eat first. How are you feeling?" She asks, looking up at her tall boyfriend. His eyes are tiny and he's a lot paler than usual. But she's not really surprised. He really went hard last night.

"I’m okay. I feel great. Might still be a bit drunk actually, but…"

She laughs. He nuzzles his face into her neck again, almost embarrassed.

"I'm sorry if it was a lot last night. I mean… from my side."

"What do you mean?"

"I was… drunk. In another sphere."

Taylor looks at him and laughs, her hands now gently caressing his face.

"I know. Me too. Trav, you are on top of the world right now. You were allowed to have fun last night,"

Travis looks into her eyes and nods slowly. Sometimes he looks at her and can’t believe she's here, can't believe she's his, through and through.

"Hey, I love you."

She smiles slowly, her fingers on his cheek. The unspeakable things he makes her feel. Things she thought she could never feel again.

"I love you, babe."

He kisses her again. She sighs into the kiss this time. The little counter with the coffee machine still against her lower back. But she doesn’t care. His kisses just make her forget that what she needed so badly a few moments ago was coffee.

Just as they pull back, Taylor takes a good look at him, then giggles again.

"What?"

"I love you, but that beard has to go."

He grins.

"Okay, deal. But first, how about I get you some breakfast and a proper coffee, hmm? And some Advil."

She nods, cuddling herself into his arms again. She loves his smell, and she loves feeling so loved up by his big arms. It's been a while since home was a person. It's been a while since she's felt so safe and seen in someone’s presence.

"Please. I need a large coffee. A large, iced latte with almond milk and vanilla syrup. Please. And a breakfast burrito," she mumbles into his chest, making him laugh a little louder. His voice is still rusty from last night, and he knows why. There's been a lot of singing, screaming, and smoking involved.

"Okay, my love. Coming through. Go lay down for a bit now," he says gently and kisses her cheek a few times. She smiles, nods, then steals another kiss. He closes his eyes, pressing her a little closer. He doesn’t want this kiss to end. He doesn’t want to let go of her either. Her smell, her lips, her little hands on his cheeks. He loves this woman more than anything he's ever loved. It's scary, it's beautiful. It's life.

Taylor slowly lets go of him, smiling at him one last time before stepping back into bed. He looks after her, about to search for his phone in the hotel suite, when she turns around again.

"Hey, Trav."

"Mhm?"

"I’m so proud of you. Did I tell you that today already?"

Travis smiles slowly, a gentleness in his eyes he’s not used to himself.

"You did."

"Good," she answers, grabbing the sheets on the bed and letting herself fall into the soft mattress.

[pajarinwrites]

you could ask

➳ fem!reader x Dino

➳ wc: 2.7k

➳ TAGS: pwp; fluffy smut, smutty fluff MDNI, my dudes; it's so sweet tho kjsdiasejnasd

➳ WARNINGS: fucking(?) it's super fluffy though; fingering (f receiving), kissing, marking, petnames (babe, baby for her)

➳ AN: i continue to surprise in that dino is my least biased member except now that i wrote this, he might not be anymore; he's such a cutie ugh; also this RAN! AWAY! FROM! ME! it started as a drabble but 2.7k can under no circumstances be classified as a drabble. also there initially was supposed to be piv sex but then it got too long. i'll definitely write a continuation one-shot for this ugh. anyway, ENJOY!

also that's my fave photo of channie

You look up from your phone as your friend enters the lobby. He has his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, wearing the usual cap, mask, sunglasses combo in public, in an effort to remain unrecognised.

“Hey,” you greet with a soft wave. He pulls off his sunglasses to reveal eyes crinkling with smiles. “Hey!” He replies back, pulling you into a short hug before calling the elevator.

“How was practice?”

“The usual. Except Hoshi-hyung was hungover.”

“Huh?” You ask, sure you must’ve misheard him. Chan laughs in reply.

“Yeah, he filmed that program with Youngji yesterday that you like watching.”

“And he didn’t tell me?” You ask in mock affront, one hand resting on your chest dramatically. Chan shrugs. “I guess he assumed I’d tell you. But I forgot.” He sticks his tongue out to you as you follow him to his apartment.

You pass Vernon and Dokyeom in the kitchen; they wave to you in greeting before you follow Chan into his room.

“Leave the door open, children!” Dokyeom screams after you, prompting your friend to scream a dry hahaha back and slam his door all the harder. “They’re not even funny,” he pouts, dropping onto his bed where you’ve already gotten comfortable.

“Ugh,” he groans as the climbs up to the headboard next to you. “What’s wrong?” You ask, looking at his tense expression.

“It’s fine, practice just kicked a little harder than I thought.”

“Are you still up for movie night? We can just move it if you’re too exhausted.”

“Of course not! I always have energy for you.” He smiles softly, scooting closer, resting one arm on his headboard behind you as if it did nothing to him. You cleared your throat, trying your hardest not to shuffle so he wouldn’t feel obligated to move his arm away again.

“What’ve you got saved on your laptop?” He asks as you pull it up and open Netflix.

“I mean, I’ve been dying to watch the Scream remake for a while…” You know his stance on horror movies. As expected, “ugh! Can’t we watch something cute and cozy that won’t make me pull a muscle from jump scares!”

“Unfair argument! First you say you’re up for movie night and when it comes to picking a movie you bring up the issue of your sore muscles!”

“Well I can’t just make ‘em magically disappear.”

“But you got to pick the movie the last, like, three times!”

“I’m not saying you can’t pick. I’m just saying pick a different one!”

“Nuh uh, I want this one.” He groans again, rolling his head.

“Okay, then what will you do about my sore muscles?”

“Me? Do you want me to massage your sore muscles for you? Since when are your sore muscles my fault or problem?”

He grins, and with how close his face is to yours, it’s doing all kinds of things to your heart. “If you want to watch Scream so bad, it is your problem…”

Oh, so that’s how it is, you think, realising he never expected you to make good on any muscle relief. Lee Chan knows damn well you hate massages unless you’re on the receiving end. The amount of times he’s given you one eclipses the times you have returned the favour, a grand total of zero times.

“Sure,” you smile sweetly, setting your laptop back down on the floor next to Chan’s bed. He stares at you, eyes wide as saucers. “Huh?”

You remove his arm from your shoulders and get up, motioning for him to lie down. If your best friend wanted to play a game of chicken with you, he absolutely could.

“Also, you obviously gotta take your shirt off.”

Instead of moving, Chan is sitting still as a statue, still staring at you as if your hair had spontaneously changed colour. You wondered if this was really all it was going to take but eventually he shuffles down on the bed. He shrugs off his tee and you pretend like you aren’t surreptitiously looking him up and down.

“Okay, but you gotta do it properly, “ he states as he rests his head on his arms.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire as you get into position, positioning your left knee beside Chan’s body and swinging the other over so that you are straddling his butt.

“Just that you can’t quit after five minutes, and you can’t do it all softly.”

“Hmm,” you hum in agreement, “elbow grease.” Chan giggles in response, but it turns into a groan as soon as you dig your thumbs into the tops of his shoulders.

“You really aren’t holding back, huh?”

“I’ve been ordered to give it my all,” you reply, bearing down on one especially tight trapezius. Chan’s breath stutters under your ministrations and you’re glad he can’t see your face heat up. As your hands wander lower you feel like he’s tensing up more instead of less.

“Hey, relax,” you instruct, “this was your idea.”

Chan grumbles something into his pillow in reply but it only takes him a few more minutes and a few sounds that veer suspiciously into moan territory before he shrugs you off forcefully.

You let out a yelp of surprise as you flop down on the mattress next to him. “What was that for?”

“You did enough, we can watch your silly movie now.” He avoids your eyes and you can see that his face has turned red, but you try to blame it on the heat of the room and the fact that you just treated him like bread dough for fifteen minutes. As he sits back up against the headboard, he pulls the blanket over himself, his hands in his lap awkwardly.

“What are you doing?” You cock an eyebrow.

“Preparing to be scared to death,” he replies with a chuckle you believe was supposed to be light-hearted.

“It’s okay, I’ll protect you. You can hide behind me if you get scared,” you offer graciously. Chan rolls his eyes. “Just start the movie.”

You pull up your laptop and snuggle into your friend’s side. Chan fluffs up his pillows, one behind your back, one in his lap, and welcomes you into his arms again. You’ve watched movies in this position before, but today you’re restless. Chan seems to exude extra body heat today, and maybe it’s your wild imagination but his workouts have really started to pay off, and the feeling of his biceps pressing into your side distracts you more than you’d like to admit.

You stopped watching whatever is going on on screen several dozen minutes ago when you finally clear your throat. You’d been sneaking glances over at Chan for a while, his uncomfortable shifting, the suspiciously placed pillow. You had a hunch when he shrugged you off him earlier but the longer you sat next to him, having to endure his endless shuffling, the more convinced you were. Of course, you weren’t entirely unbothered by his presence either. The glimpse of his naked chest and back hadn’t left your mind, although you were hard-pressed to admit, that that sight had been the reason for your inability to focus. 

“It’s a little boring, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” He asks, turning his frightful eyes from the screen. You hit pause.

“The movie, Chan.”

“Boring isn’t the adjective I’d use, but sure. We can definitely watch something else.”

“We could do something else.” You smirk, shifting so you can face him fully. Bless him, his expression betrays nothing but confusion. He opens his mouth to ask what you’re on about but you beat him to it.

“Chan,” you sigh, “is this going to be a repeat of Seungkwan’s birthday party?”

“Huh?” He asked. But the fact that he had turned a shade redder let you know that he was very aware of what you were talking about.

“You know, when we were in the kitchen alone and you leaned in and I was waiting for you to finally kiss me? But then you chickened out the last second and pretended you had just wanted to grab the vodka from behind me?”

Chan blinks at your, your words evidently not quite processed yet. “You wanted me to kiss you?” You rolled your eyes.

“For someone with such a big head, you can be pretty stupid, you know that?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know? I can’t read your mind.” You lean in closer - resting your hand on his thigh - and take delight in the way his breath hitches.

“You can always ask.” You whisper. He moves in even closer, the pillow sliding off his lap and letting you see that you were right about your prior assumption. You bite your lip at the sight of the obvious tent in his sweatpants.

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks, bringing your attention back to his face. He’s gorgeous, you think, in the half-light of his bedroom, his hair unstyled, his eyes shining. But he really isn’t going to budge if you don’t answer, it seems. “Yes, please,” you breathe.

His lips are on yours, softly, as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. His right hand is cradling your cheek. It makes you smile, wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him down with you. Chan let’s out another groan, catching himself with his left hand next to your head instead of letting his full weight crash into you, which coincidentally happens to be exactly what you wanted. You nudge his hand away, hoping for him to get the hint. Much to your chagrin, he pulls back, panting against your lips.

“What—“ you mean to ask but don’t get around to it when you see the dark, almost desperate shadow in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” His gaze drops to your lips, he’s nipping at your lower lip, making his way down your jawline. You manage to hold out on him until he reaches your pulse point, attaching his lips to the sensitive skin and nibbling at it in a way that’ll definitely leave a mark makes you whimper. Right now you couldn’t care less.

“Chan,” you moan, “please…” You can feel him smirk but he complies with your unspoken wish, continuing his way downward.

“Can I take this off you?” He asks, tugging at you shirt. You look down at his eyes, blown out and looking at you like you created the universe.

“Only if yours comes off too,” you say, meaning to tease him. His shirt’s over his head and at the other end of his room before you can blink. “Better?” He smirks, usually you’d be careful not to stroke his ego too much, but right now all you can think about it tracing every ridge on the expanse of his body with your tongue. It’s so much more fun when you can look freely. It must show on your face because Chan leans forward, whispering, “You can eat me up later, baby. Right now it’s my turn.” You have half a mind to hold back your whimpers at the tone of his voice but at the end you’re just a human, not some saint, so you stand no chance against the carnal vices of the flesh.

Chan takes off your shirt so skilfully that a very unwelcome thought of possessiveness flashes through your mind but with how he looks at you (very much not like you threw on your oldest, most comfy sport bra) the evil little voice in your head stands no chance. There can’t be any lingering doubt over his feelings with the way he undresses you slowly, deliberately, with all the care in the world, makes you think he mistook you for a fragile piece of art. His eyes say the same, casting glances at your face again and again, questioning; like he’s ready to drop everything if you so much as breathe a word. You have to commend him, especially with how evident the tent in his sweats has been for the better part of this evening.

“Chan,” you whine, ripping him out of the worship of the skin on your tummy. He looks dazed already. “Please stop teasing.”

He smiles, “Am I teasing you? Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to. You’re just so beautiful.”

You want to tell him off for being a sap but he starts kissing a straight line downwards from your navel and your words are caught in your throat.

His hands skitter up your thighs, making you shiver as he finally presses a digit to your core. He groans, “So wet for me already, love, you’ve soaked through your panties.”

“Looks like you have to take them off, then.” You smile and he obliges easily. It seems he’s really had enough of the teasing because he presses his thumb to you clit immediately, circling it. You moan his name as he slides one finger through your slick, “wanna touch you too.”

“Later, baby. Let me focus on you for now. Can I keep going?”

You mumble a pathetic Ohmygod yes please, that earns you a soft chuckle from him. He wastes no time in sliding a finger into you. Chan moans at the feeling of you wrapped around his fingers.

“Shit, babe,” is all you get out of him before his mouth is back on your skin, kissing up the insides of your thighs as he stretches you out on another finger. “Wanna come on my fingers, love?” You don’t trust your voice right now, so instead you nod vigorously. He stops testing the waters as his fingers and thumb speed up, spreading a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach. He shifts his weight upwards and is hovering over you, never ceasing the motion of his fingers.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

“If you don’t, I’m leaving right now,” you barely manage to breathe out between pants. From the way Chan smiles at you, you can tell you must look at least as fucked-out as you feel. He chooses not to tease you and you silently thank him for it. Instead he just leans in, meeting your lips in a manner that is nothing like the soft, innocent kisses from before. He pushes his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth as if he wanted to taste all of you. Just at that moment his fingers find that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You moan into the kiss, prompting him to mirror your sounds. Chan doesn’t let up on that spot, speeding up and hitting it again and again and again until the pressure becomes to much and the knot in your stomach snaps. He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving soft pecks all over your face until you’ve calmed down.

“Feeling better?” He asks. You’re forced to watch as he retrieves his fingers from your pussy, putting them in his mouth instead and licking them clean. He hums comfortably, “you taste so good, babe.”

You’re still staring at him, wide-eyed, trying to make sense of why the sight of your best friend licking his fingers clean of your essence is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He notices your state and his brows furrow.

“Hey, are you okay?” There’s real worry in his voice, so you nod in reassurance.

“I was just thinking that if this what I get for massaging your sore muscles a little, I’m definitely gonna start doing it more often.”

His eyes widen. “You wanna do this more often?” The disbelief in his voice makes you laugh in earnest. “Of course, in case you couldn’t tell, I had a lot of fun.” You’re unsure of your next sentence, but if you don’t say it now, you fear you’ll say it never, “and I like you. A lot.”

He has the dopiest grin on his face as he leans back down, giving you another sweet kiss. “In that case, let me take you out on a proper date before we do this the next time.” You cock an eyebrow.

“Chan, do you wanna be my boyfriend?” The man in question blushes, avoiding your eyes. “If that’s something you also want…”

You look at his expression, hopeful gaze lifting to catch yours. There’s a blush lingering on his cheeks, his hair all mussed up. You’ve never felt more comfortable with another person.

“Of course,��� you reply, snaking one arm around his middle and pulling him close, “I’d love that, actually.”

[endless-summer-soldier]

dr. feelgood - chapter one

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death

word count: 1.2k

series playlist: here (I'm still finalizing this so it might change)

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy (message me to be added!)

series masterlist

There was a stranger in my bed. A very handsome, naked stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. I rolled onto my back and tried to piece together the events from last night, but all I could remember was tequila. Too much tequila.

I crawled out of bed and headed for the shower, hoping the stranger would sneak out while I was in the bathroom. Today was a big day and being hungover was not part of my plan. I chugged some water and took a few Advil before I rinsed all of last night off my body.

When I walked back into my bedroom, Handsome Stranger was still in bed, but he was awake, which was progress.

“You forgot to invite me into the shower with you,” he said, sitting up in my bed. I gave him a small smile and said, “Let’s not do this. Last night was really fun, but I need you to leave.”

“Kicking me out already? No breakfast? No morning sex?” 

“I’m starting a new job this morning and I really need to get ready,” I said. I grabbed the stranger’s clothes from the floor and tossed them at him.

“Wow, you really are kicking me out. This is going to impact your rating in my little black book.”

“Do you even remember my name?” I asked.

“Is it Lindsey? You look like a Lindsey.”

I chuckled, “It’s not Lindsey.”

“Okay, well I may not remember your name but I do remember the mind-blowing sex we had last night.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” I walked over towards him wrapped only in my towel and held my hand out, “Y/N”

“Bucky,” he took my hand and gave it a solid squeeze before letting go.

“Look Bucky, I’m sure you’re really great but I can’t do this right now. I have to focus on my career. Yes, I had a great time last night, but this can’t happen again. So I really do need you to go.”

He held both hands up in surrender, “Fair enough, I appreciate the honesty. I will get out of your hair.” He took his clothes from the heap on the bed and started putting them back on. I retreated back to the bathroom to dry my hair and brush my teeth. I let Bucky collect his things and leave without another word, avoiding any further awkward conversation.

I finished getting ready and could swear I smelled coffee, likely just my brain tricking me. When I departed down the stairs I heard the coffee maker brewing and froze, knowing I didn’t start the machine. There was a note scribbled on the white board attached to my fridge that read:

Good luck on your first day. Coffee’s on me :) - B

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself. At least he didn’t leave his phone number because I might’ve been tempted to text him. A new guy was the last thing I needed right now. So I poured myself a travel mug full of coffee and departed for the hospital.

It was strange to be dressed in periwinkle scrubs and a lab coat. All through medical school, I dreamed of this moment, when I would finally be a surgeon. And yet, putting on the scrubs felt wildly underwhelming.

I stood in a group with my fellow interns as our resident, Dr. Palmer gave us a tour of the hospital and a run down of our basic expectations. I exchanged glances with a few of the interns in my group, but we didn’t have an opportunity to talk much.

The first day was fairly routine. We each had a chance to present on a patient and answer questions that Palmer asked us. The cases were all fairly routine which was a relief. Then we were sent off to the ER to complete basic examinations, take blood, and sew sutures. They were easing us in, which was a relief since I was still a little hungover, but I knew in the coming weeks we would be exposed to more and more.

Dr. Palmer introduced us to Dr. Stephen Strange, who was a world renowned neurosurgeon and apparently Palmer’s fiance. It wasn’t uncommon for doctors to be involved with fellow doctors because our work schedules were so demanding. Strange was curt and arrogant, but clearly highly intelligent and it would be a great experience to work underneath him. But I was most eager to meet the Head of Trauma, Dr. James Barnes. I’d read a lot of his articles and respected his resourcefulness as a former doctor for the Army. He had the kind of experience that couldn’t be taught in a hospital and I wanted to soak up as much of his knowledge as he was willing to give.

About halfway through the 12-hour shift, I found my way to the break room for a cup of coffee. The coffee pot was steaming which was fortunate because it meant a fresh pot had just been brewed. I poured myself a generous cup and added just a splash of cream. 

As I took my first sip, a voice called from behind me, “Not as good as tequila, but it works wonders.” 

I spun around and found handsome stranger smirking at me, clad in navy scrubs and a white lab coat. 

I’m sure my jaw was on the floor, but I did my best to cover up my shock, “What are you doing here?”

He walked over toward me and poured himself a cup of coffee, “I could ask you the same thing. Was my coffee this morning so good that you had to come here for more?”

I was too stunned to respond to his sarcasm, “I’m sorry, do you work here?”

He looked at me patronizingly. “What does it look like?” He held his arms out, drawing my attention to his scrubs.

This couldn’t be real. I was about to pinch myself to test out my pain receptors when I caught a whiff of him. Ginger, bergamot, and citrus. The same heavenly scent that I had inhaled when I made my bed this morning.

 “So this is the new job, huh?” he asked me. I couldn’t even formulate a response but he didn’t miss a beat, “Very impressive, truly. This is one of the best programs in the country.” I simply nodded, trying to calculate the quickest way out of this conversation.

Luckily I was saved by my resident. Dr. Palmer entered the break room and interrupted the conversation.

“Dr. Barnes, I see you’ve met one of my interns.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. Handsome stranger was Dr. Barnes. The Dr. James Barnes who I’ve admired for years and was incredibly excited to work with. And I drunkenly slept with him last night without even knowing who he was. I could feel my career slipping through my fingers.

“Yes, I was just about to introduce myself,” he stated. He extended a hand to me, “Dr. James Barnes, Head of Trauma.”

“Dr. Barnes, pleasure to meet you,” I faked enthusiasm. “I’m Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Dr. Y/L/N actually has a special interest in trauma, if I remember correctly,” Palmer added. 

“Is that so?” Barnes said, looking at me with amusement. I merely nodded with a smile and he said, “Well, it sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. If you’ll excuse me, I have to scrub into the OR in about 30 minutes.”  

He walked out of the break room but then popped his head back in, “Looking forward to working with you Dr. Y/L/N.” I could see Dr. Palmer trying to piece together the interaction so I scurried out of the room before she could question me.

next chapter

[glorious-spoon]

tell me all the things that i wanna hear [9-1-1 | Buck/Tommy; Buck/Eddie | 1/1]

1.3k words | feelings realization | episode tag

about a week ago i wrote this post about an eddie feelings realization at the bachelor party, so naturally after last night's episode i had to write the fic.

tell me all the things that i wanna hear [on AO3]

-

He doesn't remember it right away.

Which is… not surprising, probably. The bachelor party that wasn't marks the drunkest he's been since before Chris was born, possibly the drunkest he's ever been in his life. He wakes up in a bathtub shirtless and so hungover that he wants to die, and then they discover that Chimney is missing, and it's a long, stressful, terrifying fucking day that keeps Eddie way too busy to focus on any of the garbled flashes of memory from last night. Busting down a hotel door and shouting off-key karaoke at Buck and tilting sloppily together while they poured each other shots—stupid party shit that he's honestly too old for. They're definitely going to owe the hotel damage fees out the ass.

But in the end, Chim is okay. Or, if not okay, at least safely ensconced in a hospital bed. Eddie leaves to pick Chris up from Pepa's and he's still there, shooting the shit with his abuela and slowly sipping his fourth Gatorade of the day in the hopes that it'll settle his stomach enough for him to eat dinner, when he gets the text from Buck that the wedding is still on and he needs to get his ass back to the hospital. So he packs Chris in the car, and doesn't fight it when his abuela also insists on coming—Pepa waves them off with an indulgent smile—and doesn't allow himself to be relieved that the short notice means he has an excuse not to mention it to Marisol.

It's a beautiful wedding, in the end. Perfectly imperfect, in the way all the best things in life are. Eddie gets a little teary-eyed when Chim and Maddie slip the rings onto each other's fingers, and he claps with all the rest, and he just happens to glance up in time to see a flash of blue as Buck slips out the door.

For a moment, he considers following, but Karen nearly trips bringing the cake in, so Eddie jumps in to catch her before tonight can turn into any more of a catastrophe than it already is. From there, there's the usual party bustle of divvying up cake and passing out paper plates, and he forgets about Buck for a little while, at least until he tugs Tommy through the door, the both of them beaming like fools and covered in soot in a way that makes it very fucking obvious what Buck just spent the last twenty minutes doing with his mouth.

Eddie doesn't remember it then, either. He snickers while he watches the rest of the room catch on, while Buck introduces Tommy around to the people who don't already know him, and he catches Buck by the arm as he's making his way over to the cake.

"You might want to go wash your face there, bud," he says.

"What?" Buck blinks at him. Then he rubs at his cheek, and looks at his sooty hand, and goes bright red. "Oh. Um. Shit."

"Yeah."

"I was wondering why…" To Eddie's relief, he's laughing. "Well, that's one way to come out to everybody. Right?"

Eddie laughs. "I guess so. You feeling alright about it?"

"Yeah," Buck says. He glances over to where Tommy is talking to Chim and Maddie. Like he sensed it, Tommy glances up and grins brilliantly at him, and Eddie watches something in Buck's expression go soft and warm and pleased. "Yeah. I'm—I'm feeling really, really good about it."

Eddie's heart gives a funny little thump in his chest. He pats Buck's arm, then lets go. "Well, good. Happy for you, man."

"Thanks, Eddie." Just for a moment, Buck turns that soft expression on him. Then he says, "I'm gonna, uh, go wash up. Save me some cake!"

"Sure," Eddie says, but Buck's already gone. He threads through the crowd to Tommy's side, says something in a low voice to him that makes him laugh and Chim put a long-suffering hand over his eyes. Then they're both moving toward the door together, Tommy's hand resting low on Buck's back.

"Dad, can I have another slice of cake?"

He looks down at Chris. "I don't know, mijo, it's kind of…"

"Come on."

"Alright, fine," Eddie says, caving, if only so he doesn't keep looking at the door that Buck and Tommy left through.

They reappear a few minutes later, freshly scrubbed, and Eddie watches Hen hug first Buck, and then Tommy, who looks startled but hugs her back. Then they head through the crowd together toward the cake. Their hands are linked together. Eddie decides that's a good moment to go give Maddie and Chim his congratulations.

He doesn't remember it then, either. It's not until later, when the crowd is finally trickling out ahead of the end of visiting hours and Maddie and Chim take turns hugging a sleepy Jee-Yun before handing her over to Mrs. Lee, that Buck sidles up to him. 

"I'm gonna get going," he says. Then, to Chris, "Hey, Superman. Awesome party, huh?"

Chris shrugs, all studied adolescent indifference like he didn't insist on coming along. "It was okay. The cake was good."

"Actually, we should probably get going pretty soon too," Eddie says. "Abuela, you good?"

She flaps a hand at him and goes back to her conversation with Mr. Lee, and Buck says, "I'm gonna, uh, give Tommy a ride back to the station so he can drop off his gear."

He's blushing again. Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him. "Just to the station, huh?"

"Shut up," Buck mutters, but he looks pleased. He looks happy, the way a smile steals helplessly onto his face when he glances up at Tommy, who's standing by the door with his turnout coat slung over his arm, talking to Karen. Who glances up like he could tell Buck was looking at him, and smiles back.

"I mean it," Eddie says, instead of ribbing him some more. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Buck mutters, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into a jostling half-hug. "I love you, man. You know that, right?"

Eddie tilts against him, his nose just bumping the edge of Buck's jaw, and that's when the memory hits him like a bullet, or a lightning bolt, or something equally sudden and devastating.

That couch in the hotel room. Sitting there with Buck's arm around his shoulders and one of Buck's legs flung over his knees—his shirt was gone by then, and Buck had lost his jacket, and Eddie could feel the warmth of his body through the thin tee he had on underneath. He was waving his hands as he spoke, jostling Eddie, and Eddie turned his face toward Buck and bumped his nose against his cheek just like he is now, and thought with perfect, sober clarity, I could kiss him right now. I want to kiss him.

He goes still. Buck must feel it, because he jostles Eddie a little, his warm, stubbled jaw rough against the bridge of Eddie's nose for just an instant before Eddie turns his head away. "Eddie? You good?"

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't look up at Buck. Isn't sure he could stand to see his face, this close: his blue eyes, his soft lips, he was just kissing Tommy, he wants Tommy, not you, and anyway you're not—you don't—you can't— "Yeah, I'm good. Just kinda hoping I never see another shot of tequila as long as I live."

"Oh, tell me about it," Buck says, and finally releases him. "In retrospect, that was so fucking dumb." "Swear jar," Chris remarks, without looking up from his Switch. 

"Put it on my tab," Buck says, ruffling his hair. "See you guys later."

"Yeah, later," Eddie says, a beat too late. Buck doesn't seem to notice, thankfully. He gives Eddie a quick grin and heads back to where Tommy is waiting. Karen hugs him, and then Hen does, and Tommy waves at Eddie, who manages to gather the wherewithal to wave back. And then they're gone.

Eddie rubs his knuckles against his sternum, where a dull ache has taken up residence, then lets his hand and pulls a smile on before anyone can see.

[almostgenerallyalways]

to absent friends and those at sea

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fem reader Category: angst / fluff Word count: 6,2K CW: language, don't know how the navy works, maybe workplace bullying, this is a 'there's only one bed' fic that got out of control

Summary: Through seven years and almost as many deployments he’s carried this torch, the flame low but always burning somewhere in a condemned antechamber of his heart, one he tried hard to forget the route to.

2023

“Your flight is about to get canceled.”

You start, thrown by the appearance of Hangman at your side, interrupting your intense scrutiny of the departures board where another forty minutes have just been added to the already considerable delay of your outbound flight to Seattle.

“What are you still doing here?” You eye him suspiciously, adjusting your duffel bag over your shoulder.

“Nice to see you too, Mir.” He smiles, completely unperturbed as always. “I stayed back to hang out with Coyote. Haven’t seen him much since he was transferred. He left this morning.” He pauses for a moment, indifferently examining his fingernails. “You?”

You sigh. “I thought I’d take advantage of being in the Rockies to hike.”

The man next to you smirks. “In other words, you got drenched.”

“More or less.”

Two days ago, Saturday, had been a beautiful, sunny day for a wedding: Every circumstance had been perfect to reunite most of your Top Gun class, gathered with assorted family, friends and colleagues of the happy couple, to watch Halo say yes to her wife.

You’d enjoyed yourself immensely; the majestic scenery of Halo’s remote hometown in the Colorado mountains, the beautiful venue and decorations, and best of all: being with one of your best friends on the happiest day of her life.

Then the next day, as you’d rolled out of bed bright and early, only slightly hungover, you’d opened the curtains of your hotel room to unannounced streaks of rain.

Not put off by a little change in weather, you’d checked if there were any safety warnings for the trail you’d chosen, and set out in spite of the adverse conditions. The experience had been less enjoyable than anticipated: the beautiful views over the Rockies obscured by a thick layer of fog, you’d returned to your room early last night, chilled to the bone, every stitch of clothing you’d been wearing soaked through.

Another announcement pings over the speakers, interrupting your reflections. The status next to your flight number and destination now blinks in bold, red typeface: CANCELED.

“Told you.” Your unwanted companion grins helpfully.

Around you, people are starting to move, expressing their panicked complaints. You groan as you realise you are going to be stuck here overnight: it is almost 8 PM, and with the rain and mist not letting up, there’s no way another flight is leaving this small airport tonight.

“Listen, Mir,” Hangman says, expression more sober now, “My flight to San Diego was canceled, and I just stood in line for two hours to get a room for tonight. You’ll be here for hours if you have to get one.”

He considers you, any trace of mockery gone from his face for once. “You wanna crash with me?”

Pressure starts to build behind your temples, as you quickly consider your options. On the one hand, you are tired and cranky and in desperate need of sleep: having been one of the last guests shutting down the wedding in the late hours of Saturday night, and having spent most of your Sunday hiking up a non-rewarding mountain in the pouring rain, you’d love to avoid spending hours in the line that you see the crowd of weary and pissed-off people scramble to form, leading up to the United desk.

On the other hand: Hangman.

He smiles tentatively, as if he can read your thoughts on your face. He probably can. “It’s a double.”

You close your eyes, feeling like you might live to regret this decision: “Okay. Fine. Thanks.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------

2016

Top Gun is a dream and an outright nightmare.

Brought in two weeks after the start of the program to replace someone who was summarily discharged, you’re determined to prove your worth.

When you are first introduced to the men and women (woman, singular, you correct yourself) who are to be your classmates and competition, it’s clear the group dynamics have already been cemented. Some eye you suspiciously, leaning back in their chairs, trying to get a read on the late addition. Some don’t even bother to look.

A blonde pilot in the second row scoffs when the instructor reads a short overview of your scant accomplishments, and another man sitting next to him laughs in response, poorly covering it up with a cough.

It takes everything you have to tough it out. They’re throwing you in the deep end, barely allowing any time or grace to make up for the hours and hours of valuable technical and practical training you’ve missed.

On day eight, though, you execute your first successful stealth manoeuvre, getting the upper hand over one of the instructors. As the details in the move are analysed in front of the class, for the first time, you feel a begrudging respect from some of them.

Not everyone, though. Two seats to your left, Seresin makes a show of studying his cuticles.

* * *

Halo is your lifeline. As the only two women in the class, you gravitate towards each other, finding some respite from the hyper-masculine bullshit of the rest of the group.

Or maybe she’s an angel, as her recently coined callsign suggests.

You’re lounging on the rec room couch with Halo’s feet in your lap, debriefing the day’s hop, when Seresin and two of his usual hangers-on walk in. (Their names are Miller and Wozniak. Halo and you have taken to referring to them as Crabbe and Goyle.)

“Ladies.” He grins, flashing you a smile with no warmth behind it.

A feeling of dread gathers in your stomach.

He casually picks an apple out of the fruit bowl and pretends to inspect it as he comments: “Poor showing out there today. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna play in the big leagues with the boys.”

Halo, laid back on the couch, rolls her eyes. “Fuck off, Jake.”

He grins at her and takes a bite, crunching loudly. “You know, Halo, it’s not so much you I’m worried about. But this one-” He gestures at you with the piece of fruit. He has never referred to you by your name. “Is on thin ice, I hear. Heard they’re regretting calling her up.”

At this, Halo sits up, looking like she wants to give him a piece of her mind, but you stop her with a touch to her arm. “Forget it, Callie.”

* * *

You’re breathing heavy, blood rushing in your ears as your body is pushed to its physical limits, your F-18 protesting as you accelerate into a sharp turn curving around a particularly treacherous stretch of the San Jacinto mountains.

Your gamble has paid off, though, as you come out right on top of your prey. You can taste bile in the back of your throat as you lock tone on Fanboy’s jet.

It tastes like victory.

Back on the tarmac, peeling off the top half of your sweat-drenched flight suit, Halo throws her arms around your neck as Fanboy shakes your hand, a bemused smile on his face. “Nice work out there. Never even saw you coming.”

Later, at the Hard Deck, one pilot after another buys you drinks as you finally earn your callsign: Mirage.

* * *

It gets easier from there on out, and it doesn’t.

On the one hand, you don’t feel like you constantly have to defend your place anymore. After you score big in the mountains, Hangman finally has the decency to shut his mouth around you. You’ve found a natural understanding with most of the other pilots – the competition is fierce, but nights at the bar bring everyone back on equal footing.

Yet as the program ramps up to its conclusion, so does the pressure. Some mornings you can’t choke down breakfast, your stomach seized up into a knot of nerves and anticipation.

In week ten, you’re having so much trouble with a simulation that you, your wingman and his backseater get shot down six times in a row. Your arms burn with the hundreds of push-ups you’re grinding into the blistering tarmac, your CO never running out of the torrent of abuse he’s heaping onto your back.

You can’t sleep that night, keep seeing the disappointed look on your wingman’s face as you’d fucked up again and again. Around three in the morning, you give up on sleep and head to the on-base gym.

You crank a treadmill up to high and you run, run, run until your lungs are burning and your mouth tastes like metal. Rivulets of sweat drip down your back, down your face, mingling with tears you didn’t realise you’d been holding back, until finally your legs are screaming at you to stop, and you sit down at the end of another treadmill, your shoulders shaking, cradling your face in your knees.

You don’t know how long you sit there, but you know it’s not fully morning yet when a pair of white sneakers appears in your line of vision.

“Mir?”

Of course it had to be him, of all people, seeing you at your worst and most vulnerable.

“Go away.” You manage to grunt.

He doesn’t. Instead, he sits down next to you, hovering at a distance – still too close.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and if you weren’t burning with embarrassment and rage, his hesitant tone might give you pause.

You lift your face from your knees, steeling yourself. You must look ridiculous, you think, a sweaty heap of a girl having a mental breakdown at the bottom of some exercise equipment. You refuse to look at him. “I’m fine.”

He reaches out tentatively, trying to brush away a strand of hair that’s plastered to the side of your face, and you all but jump back: “Goddamn it, Seresin, don’t touch me.”

Finding the strength to push yourself up, you turn to him: “Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, don’t come anywhere near me.”

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

2016

When Koehler is discharged, Jake Seresin feels like the rug’s been pulled out from under him.

They came up together through the Academy, and while Jake isn’t sure he would’ve called him a friend in any other circumstances, at least… At least he was an ally. Familiar. Someone who saw through his cocky bullshit and gave as good as he got.

The chances of both of them getting into Top Gun were astronomically small – and then Koehler immediately went and fucked it up. Jake cannot comprehend it.

He feels off-kilter, his only confidant having made a spectacularly embarrassing exit from the program. He can feel the rest of the class watching him, like sharks who’ve smelled blood in the water, waiting for him to make a deadly mistake too.

But Jake didn’t come here to screw up. He came here to win. So he does the only thing he knows how to do – he ramps it up, builds his walls higher, needles people harder – gets under their skin before they can get under his.

He knows it’s not making him many friends – but it works. People don’t question him. He takes no prisoners, flies like he’s the only one out there, puts himself first always – and is ranked near the top of the class for doing so.

When you’re introduced as Koehler’s replacement, he can’t believe it. It feels like adding salt to the wound, bringing in someone who didn’t even make the cut-off on their own merit. So if you get it a little worse than the others – well.

He sees you struggling, those first weeks, and it only confirms his thinking.

One scorching afternoon, after a long series of dogfights ends in embarrassment for half the class, he’s in the rec room pressing a cold compress to his face, discussing the day’s events with Wozniak: “I mean, did you see her out there? That’s what happens when you pull the B-team off the bench. She’s got no business being here. She’s dragging everyone down.”

Wozniak doesn’t immediately respond, and Jake looks up to find you standing in the doorway, looking caught off guard. You recover after a second, straightening your back, and grab a water from the cooler, studiously not looking at him.

You never look at him, after that.

But he looks at you.

* * *

You have bags under your eyes. The line of your jaw has gotten a little sharper. You get a little quieter, even more so than before.

He notices these things just like he notices the redoubled resolve stiffening your spine.

You start creeping up in the rankings, slowly, point by point, and while he doesn’t like that, he respects it.

After the mountains, where you pull a trick out of the bag that takes him completely by surprise, he lines up to congratulate you. Fanboy takes it on the chin, he’s a good guy, and Jake claps him on the back before turning to you, Halo still at your side. But you won’t look at him, and ignore his outstretched hand.

He supposes he deserves that.

* * *

A few weeks later, he wakes up earlier than usual after a night of fitful sleep, his body still processing the adrenaline from an open-sea simulation the day before. Jake came out on top, though he ditched his wingman to do so. Several others didn’t manage to complete the exercise, a crucial barrier for the last stretch of the thirteen-week program.

After tossing and turning for twenty minutes, the light outside his cracked window starting to shift incrementally from pitch black to indigo blue, he decides to head to the gym.

When he steps into the cavernous, air-conditioned room, he immediately senses someone else’s presence, though he can’t see anyone using any of the rows and rows of equipment. It’s not until he rounds into a stretch of treadmills that he spots you, hunched over into your bare knees.

“Mir?” He approaches hesitantly, noting the flushed skin of your back, your hair matted with sweat.

“Go away.” He gets in response, but he can’t, not when you’re sitting there trembling.

“Are you alright?” He asks, even though he can clearly see that you’re not.

You lift your face, surreptitiously swiping at your eyes with your palm. “I’m fine.”

Still not looking at him. Never looking at him.

He reaches out a hand, tentatively; he wants to make this better –

He has to make this better, make you feel–

- but you recoil from him, and he sits there for a long time after you’ve banged the door shut behind you like you couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

Sits there for a good long while, with the ghost of your presence.

* * *

Jake wins the trophy.

It’s a raucous night at the Hard Deck and he feels like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. Sure, he doesn’t know where they’re shipping him off next week – but for now, he has won and no one can take that away from him, not the pilots giving him sideways glances at the bar, not his father, no one.

Fanboy bumps his shoulder and hands him what must be his fifth or sixth beer of the night. Over on the jukebox, Son of a Preacher Man starts playing and he glances over to see you throw your arms around Halo’s shoulders, laughing, dancing her around the crowded room a little unsteadily. You look lighter, happier than he’s ever seen you.

He watches for long moment, transfixed, until he realises Mickey is talking to him.

Mickey turns around, trying to follow Jake’s line of sight, and finds you. “Oh, dude.” He turns back, clinks Jake’s beer with his own. “I’m sorry to tell you, I think that ship has sailed, man.”

Right, Jake thinks, taking a long pull of his beer. And why should he care? He’s got what he came to North Island for.

No one can take that away.

* * *

2018

He doesn’t see you again for two years. Two years of him being shipped from base to base, coast to coast and back again, the Navy’s prize pony, getting new orders every few months.

He shows up in Oceana, papers in hand; greets familiar faces at The Admiral’s and trades stories over the sound of classic rock and the clicking of pool cues.

Then he turns around and bumps into – you.

It puts him on the back foot, coming face to face with you unexpectedly. You look like you’re caught off guard, too, but you recover quickly. “Hangman.”

“Mirage.” He smirks, defences slotting into place. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You look a little bit older, sharper in ways, your watchful eyes clearly on guard as he leans against the bartop, giving you a once-over. It’s a tactical mistake, on his part – it only serves to ignite something warm deep inside of him.

“Gonna be here for a while. Think we can kiss and make up?”

You shoot him a withering glance, like you expected better out of him. “In your dreams, Bagman.”

The bartender brings you your drink, and you smile sweetly at him. “Terry, put one of whatever he’s having on my card, will you? Fucking new guy’s gonna need it.”

* * *

And it’s fine, it’s perfectly fine. You work perfectly well together. 

It’s just that –

No matter how much he needles and cajoles, flirts or tries to rile you up, you only ever treat him as –

A colleague. Which is what he is, sure, but –

He doesn’t ever get that part of you, the part that laughs easy with Fanboy or does shots with Bambi, the part of you that bodily holds up Halo after she gets the call that her childhood dog has died, the part of you that sits next to the radio, fists clenched with anticipation when someone is flying a tough hop, the part of you that envelops them into a full body hug after.

The part of you that has your eyes light up when you look at someone, instead of straight through him.

And no matter how many times he tells himself to move on, he never quite stops wanting it.

* * *

2021

Deployed in the South China Sea, he flies one of the more difficult, harebrained missions of his life with you.

He finds you, after, where you’re slumped against a steel wall on deck, your flight suit half off, trying to catch your breath; and hands you a Sprite.

You consider him for a moment before taking the soda. It feels a little like you’re really looking at him for the first time.

“This is my favourite.”

He sits down, not close, exactly, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin. “Yeah.”

A beat passes. You open the can with a hiss, and he exhales: “Nice work back there.”

“You too, Bagman.”

The wind whips across the deck, but you’re sheltered from it by the structure, leaving only the noise.

“Do you know where you’re headed after this?” he asks.

“Back to Bahrain, still got another fourteen months there. You?”

“San Diego.”

You give a little quirk of your mouth. “Lucky.”

“I thought you’d be stateside. I thought you might have…” He holds up his right hand, indicates his ring finger. “That guy in Fallon. Search & Rescue with the dark eyes.”

You take a sip of your drink. “You noticed his eyes?”

Jake shrugs.

You look at the wide expanse of ocean churning beyond the flanks of the carrier. “No. He was… He wanted to settle in Nevada, have kids.” You give him a wry smile that doesn’t quite make it to your eyes. “Wasn’t ready to give all this up.”

“Ah.” Jake says, his throat a little dry. It feels like the realest conversation he’s ever had with you, and yet, he can’t think what to say.

You sit there for a while, in what feels like something close to companiable silence, until it’s time to debrief.

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

2023

The receptionist looks up apologetically from her sleek desk. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Seresin. Because of all the delayed passengers, we’re getting a lot of demand for double rooms for families. Is there any way you would take a single? We can offer you complimentary breakfast.”

Jake looks at you hesitantly, shifting the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

You rub your temples, doing nothing to alleviate the increasing pounding in your skull. Of course this was going to happen. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

* * *

“I can, uh,” You see him looking around for a sofa, but there isn’t one.

You sigh, letting your bag drop onto the plush grey-green carpet. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve shared worse sleeping arrangements.”

These have usually involved a barracks or an aircraft carrier, and between twenty to two hundred of your coworkers, but who’s counting.

“I suppose that’s true.” He replies, staring at the bed.

At least it’s big, you think, and you can’t wait to plop your head down on one of its crisp white pillows. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

* * *

After your shower, you’re in bed, waiting with no small amount of apprehension for Hangman to emerge from his turn in the bathroom.

When he does, in boxers and a t-shirt, his normally slicked-back hair slightly peaky and darkened by the water, he looks younger than he is. He looks a little like he did when you first knew him.

He pulls back the covers and settles against the pillows on his side, the mattress dipping with the weight of him. He’s heavier than he looks – you’re always a little surprised by the lean, solid mass of him. It’s a byproduct, you suppose, of years of studiously not looking at him when you can avoid it.

“I guess that’s goodnight, Mir.”

You look up at him, facing you. The proximity of him is unfamiliar, and a little unnerving.

You have to close your eyes against it.

“Night, Hangman.”

When you open your eyes again, he considers you for a moment with an expression you can’t place.

“I wanted to talk to you, you know, at the wedding, but you kept disappearing on me.”

You don’t really know what to say in response. “I didn’t realise we had much to say to each other.”

His face shutters, and you feel a little pang of guilt. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

He shifts onto his back. “You looked beautiful. Just wanted to say that.”

You can’t help but be a little taken aback, and it takes you a second to reply, guardedly: “Thanks. You didn’t look too bad yourself.”

But then he never does, does he? Jake Seresin, golden boy, never a hair out of place.

He doesn’t respond, and you burrow into your pillow, determined to let sleep take you over as soon as possible.

* * *

You wake from a fitful sleep to movement beside you. It takes you a second or two to remember where you are, and with whom, before you realise that the man next to you is breathing in wheezy stops and starts, a low, panicked murmur emanating from his throat.

You hesitate for an instant before propping yourself up on your arm, using your free hand to lightly shake his shoulder. “Bagman. Hey. Seresin, wake up.” He’s breathing hard, radiating heat. “Hey. Jake.”

He comes to, slowly, gasping for air, as if emerging from deep below the surface of a rough sea. His skin, where you are holding onto him, is overly hot, the fabric of his t-shirt damp. He scrambles to prop himself up, causing you to pull back your hand, but he grabs your wrist hard before you can fully pull away.

“What,” He manages, the look in his eyes still wild and unfocused, roaming over you. It takes a second, two, three, before realization dawns, and he starts to calm down. His tight grip on your wrist eases slightly.

Despite the low light of the dark room, you see a flush start to creep up the skin of his throat. “Mir. I’m sorry. I was…”

For the first time, you feel something akin to tenderness for him. You try to sweep some of the sweaty strands of hair off his forehead, hindered by his continued grasp on your arm. “It’s okay. You’re fine.” You pause, feeling a little awkward. “Could’ve just as well been me.”

At that, he lets go of your wrist, letting himself drop back onto the pillow. He stares at the ceiling, and you let yourself settle back onto your side, watching the steadily slowing rise and fall of his chest.

Just as you wonder whether you should just go back to sleep, let the both of you pretend this never happened, he says, “They’re always the same. Me, trying to save one of you, and failing. It’s getting better, they used to be much more frequent, I’m talking to someone, but…”

“I stop sleeping.” The words are out of your mouth before you realize you’re saying them. “When it gets really bad.” 

You have never shared this broken, faulty part of yourself with anyone, but somehow, looking at the shadowy form of Hangman’s shoulder two inches from your face, it tumbles out.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t function, I fly like a zombie. Sometimes I genuinely worry they’re going to ground me.”

You see his little smirk appear, even in the dark. “I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen you fly badly.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bagman.” You say it without venom, thumping his stomach lightly. “That’s certainly not what you used to say.” On the rebound, he catches your hand, cradling it just below his ribs.

You don’t pull it back.

A few minutes go by in silence, and you just when you start thinking he may have fallen asleep, he says: “Mir.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you ever…?” He exhales a puff of breath. “Will you ever forgive me?”

You fold your arm under your pillow, wary, and consider your answer for a moment. “I forgave you a long time ago.” You pause, scared to say too much. “I just… don’t know how to be around you without feeling like I’m twenty-three again, always having to prove myself because I’m not good enough.”

You watch his chest rise as he inhales, fall again with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel like that. I can’t excuse it. From the beginning I blamed you for replacing Koehler when it had nothing to do with you.”

His voice drops a little bit. “To be honest, I was scared I wouldn’t make it without him.”

Now it’s your turn to smirk. “The great Hangman Seresin, scared?”

He turns onto his side to face you, his expression solemn. “Seriously, Mir. I was insecure and I covered it up by being a dick. Maybe I still do, to some extent.”

His eyes turn downwards, to the space between your bodies. “But I feel like I’ve been trying to make things right with you for a while.”

You can’t deny this. You’ve always rebuffed any attempt on his part to approach you beyond what was strictly necessary.

“I guess I’m a champion grudge holder.”

He looks back up to meet your eyes, a crooked smile appearing on his face. “Seven years and two entire deployments together, though?”

You scoff, realising how ridiculous this sounds, but you can’t help it – it felt very personal to you. “You don’t know what it was like. I didn’t make the initial cut. By the time I got to San Diego I was two weeks behind everyone, one of only two women, and on top of that you, the class golden boy, hated me being there.”

You pause, inhaling to steady yourself. “I felt like I was under so much pressure, it fucked me up.”

When you meet Hangman’s eyes again, something in his face has softened.

“I’m sorry.”

He squeezes your hand, the skin of his palm rough.

You take in the sharp lines and smooth planes of his face, hair in disarray from a sweaty, restless sleep. He’s very close, and you don’t know if it’s the weird, suspended-in-time quality of this darkened room, or the weight that’s been lifted off your shoulders through this little exchange, weight you hadn’t even realised was there; but for the first time you feel like you might like Hangman.

Not Hangman, Jake, brass and bravado stripped away, looking at you like you’re something precious, something he’s a little bit afraid of.

It's a lot of things to feel, in the middle of the night, after seven years of cold war.

You clear your throat, but your voice still comes out a little raspier than you intend to: “Alright then, Bagman. Détente?”

Out comes that crooked little quirk of his lips again: “Alright, Mirage. Détente.”

He’s still holding on to your hand, and he pulls it a little closer into his body.

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

Jake wakes up to the frantic buzzing of his phone and reaches for it on the nightstand, the endeavour complicated by your head weighing down his other arm. The crisp first light of day is seeping through a gap in the curtains, framing a picture of you sleeping curled into his chest so pointedly he almost has to assume he’s still asleep.

After a second or two, this assumption is dispelled by a very chipper United rep talking away at him, informing him that he’s booked onto a flight to San Diego at 10:45.

“Okay, uh, that works,” He manages, trying to keep his voice down so that you don’t wake up, but it’s too late: already you’re looking up at him, blinking sleep out of your eyes.

He ends the call, puts the phone down, and after a second’s hesitation, returns his arm to its place around your waist.

He looks down at you, not even sure what he’s asking: Is this okay? Do you still hate me?

Do you realize I’ve wanted this for years?

Through seven years and almost as many deployments he’s carried this torch, the flame low but always burning somewhere in a condemned antechamber of his heart, one he tried hard to forget the route to.

You shift slightly, and he reflexively tightens his fingers into the fabric of your shirt. He sees your pupils go wide, and it’s stupid, the jolt he feels at that – it goes straight to his gut.

Then your phone rings, too, and the moment bursts like a soap bubble. You prop yourself up, pulling away from him to answer it.

When you’re done arranging your flight, he can feel the atmosphere has shifted. You don’t look at him when you say: “We should probably start packing up, huh?”

“Mir, wait,” He says, and he knows he sounds a little desperate, but there’s so many things he wants to say, finally, if this is the best chance he’ll get.

“Jake,” you interrupt, and the pleading tone of your voice shuts him up.

Later, on his flight, he’ll think about falling asleep with your hand in his, and his heart will break a little.

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

Halo calls you, ten days into the honeymoon, to exalt Jess, marriage, and Hawaii, in that order.

You’re at home, cooking dinner, a Motown playlist on in the background while she details all the kayaking, wine tasting and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes they’ve been doing. Your heart swells at her happiness. “I’m so glad you guys are having a great time.”

She asks how your hike went, and you end up telling her what happened – the canceled flight, Hangman, all of it.

Halo snorts. “Oh, poor guy. I’m not sure his outsize ego will recover from this.” She pauses to say something to Jess. “Though I’d feel more sorry for him if he hadn’t literally waited for an adverse weather event to try to tell you how he feels.”

You plop down on the couch with your plate of pasta. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Come on, dude. He’s been in love with you for years.”

“Huh.” You say, eloquently.

* * *

You book a ticket to San Diego. You take four days’ leave, and you’re not even sure Jake is there. If he isn’t, you think, clicking to skip the seat selection, you’ll take it as a sign.

Which is stupid. You don’t believe in that kind of thing. Maybe this entire idea is stupid, you consider, as you board your flight at SeaTac.

When you walk into the Hard Deck on Friday night, it feels a little like the first time: You’re nervous, your hands clammy as you run them down your shorts. Penny waves you over and pours you a tequila soda, which you accept gratefully. People you know start noticing your presence, coming up to catch up at the bar.

You’re talking to Fritz, who’s already a little worse for wear, when Jake comes in. He catches sight of you and stops short. You forget what you were saying mid-sentence.

Fritz turns around and clocks him, shooting you a wide grin. “Ah. Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

He comes up next to you at the bar, taking the place Fritz vacates. “Hey. No one told me you were gonna be in town.”

He looks good, if a little tired: sun kissed skin and slightly deeper lines in the corners of his eyes when he gives you a smile that feels perfunctory. He’s wearing his khakis, in pristine condition, though he looks like he hasn’t been sleeping well. Penny has already put a beer in front of him, and he takes a long pull on it before really looking at you.

The look in his eyes feels like the confirmation you needed.

“Last minute decision.” You say, inclining your head in the direction of the back exit. “Would you mind if we talked somewhere quieter?”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t question it, and he follows you out to the back porch.

It’s a warm night, late summer – the kind you love.

You set your drink down on the railing, suddenly nervous, and turn around, leaning back against the salt-weathered wood to face Jake. The music filters out from the bar, muted by the windows – a moody Tom Waits song.

“I’m sorry.” You start, “For leaving the way I did in Colorado. I think I was overwhelmed, by you, by what I was feeling- I got scared.”

“By what you were feeling,” He says, like he needs to repeat it to be sure.

You nod, willing yourself to be brave this time. “Yeah. I spent seven years keeping up my defences around you and then I wake up once with your arms around me and I’m like oh, fuck and-” You stop yourself, looking out at the calm ocean waves in the distance, the sun just beginning to dip into the horizon. “Fuck, I’m not explaining this very well.”

Jake’s face shows the beginning of a smile. “I think I understand what you’re trying to say.”

He steps in closer to you, and your hands go to his waist. You feel a little lightheaded with him so close, but you’re determined to continue. “And I didn’t know what to make of it. You looking at me like that. I told myself it wasn’t real so I could go back to where I was comfortable – not thinking about you.”

He closes the gap between you, an arm around your shoulder, tucking his face into your hair. “I assure you, Mir, that the way I feel about you is very real.”

His voice in your ear feels like a balm, and you tighten your fingers into his shirt, bringing your body flush with his. It’s still overwhelming – how he’s familiar and new at once, the scent of his warm skin and pressed uniform, the feeling of his lips against your temple. “Yeah, well. Not thinking about you wasn’t going very well.”

He lifts you up to sit on the railing, bringing your face level with his, and steadies you with his hands on your waist. “Mir. Did you come out here for me?”

You place your hands on his shoulders, running your thumbs up the sloped curve to his neck, and smile at the visible reaction this has on him. “Yes, Bagman.”

He kisses you then, and it feels like the solution to a problem you hadn’t even realised had been weighing on you – tangling your fingers into his hair, drawing him in closer between your knees. He keeps repeating your name, like he can’t quite believe you, and you keep answering him with more kisses, needing him to know – what?

That you’ve caught up with him. That you’re here now.

You both slow down when you simultaneously become aware that there’s a small crowd on the other side of the windows, gawking at you. You think you see an open-mouthed Mickey, pool cue still in hand. At the moment, you don’t have it in you to care.

“How long are you staying?” Jake murmurs into your neck, his arms around you.

“Monday.” You breathe, resting your chin on the top of his head. “But I’ll be back soon.”

*******

end notes: omg sorry i didn't write anything for so long - life's just been A LOT. i hope you enjoyed it. check out my masterlist <3 title from the royal navy toasts

[anashins]

hiii!!! i've been reading most of your works and i absolutely love them 😭 idk if you're accepting reqs but i've had this idea of a situationship/fwb jaehyun but he's secretly completely whipped for her and super soft w her. if you do end up making this a story thank you so much!! you're amazing 😌

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Jaehyun gets hit on at a party, but he has his eyes on one girl only, even though he claims he doesn't do relationships.

A/N: Funny, someone requested this for Yongie too 😍 Thank you, I hope you like it 💗

Jaehyun stood in the corner of the room, a slight smile on his face. Not his usual smirk when he was lowkey judging with an underlying mocking expression, or his haughty grin when he found something funny, but not hilarious enough to actually laugh out loud about it. 

No, his smile was earnest, faint and emphasized a softness in his facial features that he rarely ever showed to anybody, a look simultaneously getting mirrored in his eyes that one needed to be very lucky to actually witness even once in their lifetime. 

Because it was an expression he had reserved for one girl only.

“What a lame party, hm?”

He hadn’t noticed how he had been approached by a girl he didn’t know. She had long, dyed hair and wore an outfit that indicated this party was not her last stop, but a club which she would still visit later on.

Jaehyun shrugged indifferently, turning his head back to where his attention had been before - his girl laughing and joking around with her friend group. “I don’t think so. It’s okay.”

“But you look lonely though,” she continued talking,”standing here all by yourself.”

He smirked now, judging her with an underlying mocking expression. “I promise you, I’m not lonely. I’m just enjoying my spare time away from the crowd.” 

It was the little, ordinary things that his girl was doing he was so intrigued with. If he could, he would stand in this corner the entire night as long as he could watch her enjoy herself. It made him happy too and he didn’t ask more of the night.

“Are you interested in going to a club?” She didn’t give up despite Jaehyun’s passive demeanor that he expressed through his folded arms and absent gaze. “My new acquaintance Johnny, who you’re also friends with, suggested that you should go with us. He said you liked that certain club.”

Jaehyun remembered how he used to party at that club every weekend, sometimes even on weekdays, not caring whether he’d show up to class still hungover or not attend at all. However, a few weeks ago, it all had changed with his girl.

“I pass.”

He already wanted to let out a sigh of relief as he thought the girl might go away after rejecting her offer, but she didn’t. Instead, Jaehyun felt her fingers on his skin, gripping onto his forearm. It wasn’t a particular strong or demanding touch, tender even. But it wasn’t by his girl, and he despised it because of that which was why he shook her off.

“I thought we could maybe get a few drinks, dance and…” She lowered her voice, not at all bothered by his withdrawal. “.. you know, when we decide to go home.”

Oh, he did know what kind of reputation he used to have. Which was why he was grinning haughtily now, entirely proud of himself to have left this exact reputation behind. Unofficially. “I pass.”

“What?” Getting rejected so straight-forwardly, the girl apparently hadn’t expected it. “You have a girlfriend or something? Johnny said you didn’t.” 

Damn that Johnny guy. He had provoked him on purpose after having lured out his true feelings one night. Of course Jaehyun didn’t have a girlfriend. He just didn’t do “girlfriends”. But he did “somethings”, although this “something” went further than any “something” he had ever had before.

Jaehyun wanted to deny before it dawned on him that it wouldn’t make his situation better without disclosing that there was one girl only he wanted to go home with tonight, and she certainly wasn’t his girlfriend. 

That was until something from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. His girl went for her fourth glass despite knowing that she didn’t tolerate more than three. She never learned. Silly.

“Excuse me.”

Leaving the girl who hit on him behind, Jaehyun went with a tunnel vision to the one he had never let out of his sight, stretched out his arm and took the new filled glass out of her hands.

“What are you doing?” she complained with a playful pout.

He sighed deeply as though annoyed, with his soft smile that had found its way back to his face because of her. But she didn’t see. “You know very well that you’re a lightweight.”

“That will be my last one.”

“Really? The last time you said that, I had to carry you all the way to your bed and you passed out while-”

“NO!” she squealed and put her palm over his mouth to silence him. “Don’t you dare speak it out!”

“Now be a good girl and let me drink this. And after I’ve emptied this glass, we’re leaving. This party is lame.”

“Really?” She looked to her left and right. “I don’t think-”

But Jaehyun leaned in and said something into her ear that only she could hear. Her reaction was always the same when he whispered the dirty things he would do to her when they’d finally be alone: wonder, amazement, then embarrassment. But she would always agree with a heated head that let his heart almost unnoticeably jump.

“Your place or mine?” she only wanted to know.

____

You woke up with a headache the next morning, your mouth dry and eyes still half closed. Like usually after a party, you wanted to stay in bed for a little longer, especially since today was a sunday. Jaehyun was surely long gone after you had passed out, which was why you also didn't bother getting dressed now and just rolled to the other side of the bed that was somehow still warm.

Odd, you thought, but not odd enough to put more thought into it, you just wanted to sleep. That was until you heard it rumbling in the kitchen. 

With a start, you were sitting upright in your bed, getting dressed before hurrying to find out who had broken into your apartment or whether you had taken someone entirely else home and Jaehyun had only been a fever dream, because he usually never stayed the night. 

“Good morning.”

But the one you encountered in your kitchen with messy hair and only in his boxers, frying an omelet was indeed Jaehyun. The guy who claimed he didn’t do relationships, who didn’t stay overnight because it was similar to dating for him, and who certainly didn’t cook you breakfast. You must still be dreaming. 

“Are vegetables in your omelet okay?” he asked without any care in the world, and you only brought yourself to nod, still baffled.

While he was cooking, you watched his defined back and his hair moving with every motion, until you realized that this was surely not a dream at all. This was very much a reality you had always dreamed of. 

Then, you approached him from behind and wrapped your arms around his sides, nudging into his chest. You didn’t speak a word. You didn’t need to. Jaehyun continued cooking like you were not currently blocking his area, totally unbothered. 

And then, you felt in the middle of your parting the warm touch of his lips on the top of your head.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 18

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️ graphic ⚠️murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, assault (not in detail), underage drinking,

Part 1

"Shit!" You cursed as Stu helped you out of the car. Billy turned towards you shutting his door with a slam. "What happened?" Both boys looked at you concern lacing their features. "I didn't make dinner tonight." You could live without cooking dinner. Some nights when you were alone you'd just snack around not in the mood to start cooking anything. You had got into a routine of cooking for them though. Making sure they ate a good meal was commonplace. Stu had noticed you hadn't cooked but it didn't bother him. Parties always had snacks, at least they did when he threw them.

"You don't need to cook dinner every night," Billy reassured you. He loved your cooking but one night without it wouldn't kill anybody.

Stu threw his arm over your shoulder. "Yeah, plus I'll tell you what, tomorrow when we're hungover we can go on a little grocery shopping date!" Stu pulled you close to him poking your sides. You laughed still feeling a little bad. Billy looked at the ground. Going out in public grocery shopping like some nuclear family didn't sound like a good idea.

"Let's go assholes." Billy put on a fake smile looking at you and Stu. You nodded running up to grab Billy's hand. Like clockwork, his eyes darted around the makeshift parking lot for anyone staring. He shook your hand away. "Sorry." He said looking towards the ground. "It's okay." You whispered. Stu held your hand giving you what Billy couldn't. It wasn't done to upset Billy, part of him knew that. Stu loved to show you off. You always did look amazing hanging on his arm. Billy wasn't able to do that, carry you around like some trophy. Physical affection was always going to be a behind-closed-doors activity.

You could hear the music before you even walked into the house. Stu hit the doorbell more times than he should've. "I'll get it!" Chase called before he pulled open the door. Billy watched Chase knowing you would attract attention with the way you were dressed up. The blonde-headed boy looked Billy up and down from head to toe. Even with a mask, Stu knew that look anywhere. You looked at Stu making sure your friend saw the same thing you were.

"You guys look awesome!" Chase finally looked over at you and Stu after he gave the compliment. "You're a maid?" He asked making Stu giggle. "She's Magenta from Rocky Horror I'm surprised you haven't seen it." Stu said making you nudge his shoulder. "Your costume is cool. You're..." The sentence trailed off while you tried to figure out who he was. Chase was covered in leather and buckles. That outfit paired with his blonde hair left you with no idea of who he was supposed to be.

"I'm Michael Jackson." He said proceeding to do some dance moves. "Looks, great man. You've got the skin tone for it." Stu patted Chase's shoulder before walking into the house. You sent him a sympathetic glance trying to hold back a laugh. "Thanks for inviting us." Chase smiled at you. "Of course. Beers are in the kitchen." He told you making Stu's face light up. All three of you wandered around finding the nearest couch to sit on. "I'm going to get some beers you want any?" You shook your head while Billy nodded wanting one. "I'll be right back," Stu said dramatically before disappearing into a different part of the house.

"You having fun yet?" Billy leaned down so you could hear him. "We just got here give it a chance, please." You wanted this to work. Maybe have a non-criminal memory with your lovers. "Fine but if they keep playing this shit I might kill someone." New Kids On The Block was not on Billy's playlist. You looked around the room trying to find where the music was coming from. Sure enough, Linda was messing with the sound system. "Linda's playing music."

Billy leaned his head back regretting his decisions. You took a moment to watch the girls in the corner point and giggle at Billy. He was attracting more attention than you were. "I think you confused Chase earlier." You joked. Billy sat up turning his body to face you. "It's the face paint isn't it?" It wasn't just the face paint it was the whole ensemble. "Maybe. It might also be the pants." You moved in closer letting your lips rest near his ear. "Your ass looks great in them by the way." He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat trying to think of anything horrible to keep himself calm. "Don't." He simply spoke, fearful of what people would think.

You huffed out a breath giving up on the man beside you. It was hard trying to make Billy comfortable. He was one of the most stubborn people you'd ever met. Getting him to let loose was a full-time job one that you weren't good at. Stu came back with two beers and another bottle of alcohol. "One beer for you and a fruity drink for the lady." He handed you the colorful bottle and then passed the brown glass over to Billy. "It's Mad Dog," Stu explained as you read the label on the bottle. "Are you trying to kill her?" Billy asked seeing the familiar bottle. "She'll be fine she's a big girl,"

"I know you don't drink but I didn't want you to feel left out." Stu sat down next to you laying his arm across the back of the couch. "Thanks." You sent him a soft smile. Stu lifted his mask to kiss you but you backed away. "Not here." You didn't mean to be rude but for weeks you've been keeping up the narrative that all three of you are just friends. His lips tightened into a straight line. "Right." And just like that you acted as Billy did a moment ago.

You unscrewed the cap on your bottle taking a decent swig of it. Both men watched waiting to see your reaction. Your nose crinkled with disgust. "Honestly it's not that bad." They both laughed at your words. "Tell that to your face." Stu drank his beer wondering how the night would go.

He thought this was a good idea. Drunk kids with loud music was the perfect place for all three of you to go crazy. It's not like anyone would remember it tomorrow. Even if they did so what? It wasn't illegal to have a boyfriend and a girlfriend. Well maybe having a boyfriend was illegal in some places but luckily he lived in California.

Teenagers continued filing into the house. By 9:30 it was almost too full to breathe. "That's it somebody has to dance with me." Stu stood up as some loud grunge song played through the speakers. "I'm guessing by somebody you mean me?" You asked the boy in the Michael Myers costume. "Well, I'm not asking him that's for sure." Stu pointed at Billy who flipped him off. You took another gulp of your half empty bottle feeling a lot more comfortable than when you first showed up. "Alright but don't expect anything fancy." Billy was aggravated by the fact you'd just get up and leave him. Considering the only reason he came along was for you and Stu.

The only good thing about sitting on the smoke-smelling couch was he had a perfect view of Stu and you both. It was comical. Billy found himself laughing as the two of you jumped up and down yelling lyrics at each other. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his partners dance and sing to the spice girls. It was almost 11 and neither of you had stopped dancing. You pointed over to Billy seeing him laugh at the scene you and Stu were causing. Even though he wouldn't participate it was still fun seeing he wasn't so miserable now.

Some songs were riskier than others. Billy watched you sway to the music as Stu held you as close as he could. Your hips shuffled rubbing up against your boyfriend. Billy wanted to blame it on the alcohol. Throughout your time at the party, he continuously reminded you to slow down. It just so happened you were as stubborn as he was.

You fell on the couch practically sitting on top of Billy. Stu continued to dance and bother other kids around him. "You okay?" He asked trying to scoot you off of him. "My arms are numb." Your body was warmer than it normally was. "I told you not to drink so much." Your legs were spread giving anyone in front of you a free show. "Jesus fucking..." Billy leaned forward pulling your knees together, pointing them towards him.

"Where's my dance partner?" Stu's mask had disappeared now showing off his hair wet from sweat. "I'm right here I just needed to sit for a second." Billy stood up grabbing Stu's arm. "I told you not to let her drink so much." The short-haired boy looked over to you and then back at Billy. "She's fine! I can drink like two of those things."

Billy smacked his arm scolding his friend for his stupidity. "She hasn't eaten anything all day dipshit." Stu's lips formed an 'o' in realization. You slowly picked yourself off the couch. Sitting down was a bad idea. You were fine a second ago but now your choices hit you like a brick. "I've got to pee." You announced rather loudly. Stu grinned at you. "Bad idea. Once you break the seal you'll be pissing all night." Billy pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you need to use the bathroom-" Chase was dancing with his girlfriend when Billy saw him cutting his sentence short.

"Chase! Where's your bathroom?" After a few directions, Billy made note of the location. "You come with me and Stu go get some water." So much for no touching. Billy wrapped one arm around your waist helping you walk through the house. "I can walk you know?" You traced the duct tape on his arm as you spoke.

"Okay." His hand slipped away from your waist letting you lean against the wall. "Go ahead, walk." You carefully pushed yourself up straight just to slowly stumble once again hitting the wall. "Help..." You giggled. Billy although aggravated thought it was funny. He was sure he'd find it hilarious the next morning. "Oh, but you can walk." He mocked you before wrapping his arm around you once more. "Smartass." You smiled as you both walked to the restroom. Thankfully there wasn't a line, letting you go right in. "I can do this part by myself." Billy chuckled awkwardly. "I would hope so. I'll be out here alright?" You nodded as you shut the door.

"Are you in line?" A woman asked catching his attention. "Hmm? Oh, no I'm just waiting on my- I'm waiting on someone." He corrected himself moving away from the girl. She smiled stepping in front of him. Billy walked away from the bathroom making sure it stayed in his line of sight.

You finished your business feeling worse as you stood up. A small giggle left your lips while you struggled to pull up your underwear. The warm joyful feeling coursing through your veins was addicting. You didn't understand why Billy was so pessimistic. Water splashed in the sink as you washed your hands. Once your hands were dry you slowly opened the bathroom door. A woman quickly ran into the room shutting and locking the door behind her. Billy wasn't where you left him.

"Nice costume." A man remarked making you turn around a little too fast. "Woah there." He held out his hands stopping you from hitting the floor. "Hey, you're that chick that was in the massacre." You looked up at the familiar costume. The black robe and white mask was this year's hottest outfit. "That's me. Have you seen Billy?" The masked man helped you lean on the wall making sure his body covered your own. "They said you were almost gutted. You must have a badass scar." He ignored your question as he looked down at you with pity. Your arms felt like jelly as they pushed up against him. "Excuse me."

You were polite but you didn't understand why. His hands grabbed the hem of your dress dragging it up your leg. "I'm okay." You said quickly trying to move his hand. "I just want to see your scar." That warm fuzzy feeling you had earlier changed within seconds. You were terrified but unable to defend yourself. Your brain screamed for your body to move, to do anything but you stood there. "Where's Stu? Billy?" You asked again desperate for the man to stop.

Through glazed eyes you watched your attacker hit the ground. The cursing and screaming were garbled in your ears. There was blood, so much blood. Stu came running to your side pulling you into a hug. "Beat his fucking ass, Billy! Kill him!" Stu egged him on loving the blatant display of violence. Billy continued to lay into the man beneath him. He couldn't stop. "That's enough dude." Chase tried to pull Billy off but he just got hit in the process. "I'm calling the cops!" He shouted making underage drunk kids all flock to the exit. Stu laughed while you stared shocked at Billy. There wasn't anything behind his eyes but rage. You were going to be sick.

"Don't you ever fucking touch her again!" He screamed feeling the cartilage crack beneath his fists. Stu's encouraging shouting made your head spin. "The fucking cops are here!" Someone yelled as more people ran around to flee. You didn't move. Your fingers dug into Stu's arm scared he might leave you. "Billy, man get up." Stu tried to stop the fight but it did nothing.

The deputy knew the three of you were up to no good. He knew deep down something was going to happen. Dewey's jeep was parked just a block away from where the party was. It was unethical to follow you but it was his job as a deputy to protect the town of Woodsboro. The moment he heard and saw the kids running and screaming he jumped out of his car.

Any bypasser would've laughed at the limping cop. Dewey with his gun drawn tried his best to run into the party. "Freeze!" The man said pointing the gun directly at Billy's back. "Get off of him and put your hands where I can see them." Stu rolled his eyes at the goofy cop. "Put the gun away Dewey and help me."

Billy continued to hit the boy even after he stopped fighting back. With the help of the officer Stu pulled his friend off of the boy. "I'll fucking kill him!" He shouted. You slid down to the floor shaking from shock. "It's just some girl." Someone in the fading crowd said bewildered by the show. "That's my fucking girlfriend asshole I can knock your fucking teeth out too you bitch!" Stu kept a good hold on Billy. He thanked God that he was stronger than the enraged man. Dewey radioed an ambulance letting the incoming units know about the current situation. Your attacker was breathing just unconscious by the looks of him. The deputy pulled the handcuffs from his belt locking Billy's wrists together behind his back.

He pulled both Billy and Stu aside making Billy drop to his knees. "Neither of you move you understand me?" Both men nodded. Dewey walked over to you seeing how broken you looked. Your dress was hiked up and your makeup was smeared. Dewey pulled his jacket off carefully draping it over your frame. "It's okay." He reassured.

Your arms wrapped around him thankful he showed up. It was then you started crying. Sobbing was a better word. The fear you bottled up just minutes ago came out in the loud sobs.

More officers arrived putting Billy in the back of a police car. Stu begged them not to while Billy yelled for you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Dewey stayed by your side even after you threw up on his shoes. His hand rubbed circles on your back as you gagged over the grass on the front lawn. Chase and Linda were giving statements more scared of Chase's parents than jail.

"Are you alright?" Stu asked only getting stopped by the deputy. "She's fine." He said as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. "Stu?" You looked up seeing the worry on his face. The boy wrapped you in a hug disregarding Dewey. "I called for you and Billy, I- I told him I was alright. I didn't want this to happen." Your words were slurred with alcohol and panic. "How much did she drink?" Dewey asked as Stu patted your head. "Not enough to forget this shit." He joked earning silence from the officer. "Tough crowd," he spoke. "She had a bottle of Mad Dog that was it." Dewey pulled his hat off running his hand through his hair. "I haven't really drank before I'm sorry..." You started crying again, the alcohol making the cries extra whiney.

"Riley!" One of the cops yelled. "Just take care of her. Can you do that?" The sarcasm was heavy in Dewey's words. "Yes, I can do that." Stu mocked back like a child. Dewey limped over to the ambulance seeing the bloody kid was now awake. "His nose is completely shattered. That Loomis kid fucked his face up." The deputy rubbed his face. "Alright get his statement the best you can and take him to the hospital."

"I just want to go home." The boy said trying to fight off the EMTs. "What's your name son?" The kid seemed to think about it for a second. "Daniel Lawson." The other officer wrote down his last name on his notepad.

"Listen, Daniel, you've been drinking illegally and if what I know checks out then you also assaulted a young woman. Things are not looking good for you. Also, your face is really bad you should definitely get it checked out." Dewey's bad cop act could only last for so long.

The ambulance eventually rolled away heading to the nearest hospital. "I love you. I really do and I'm sorry for ruining everyone's night. I just wanted to be normal," You continued to cry and ramble into Stu's chest. "Y/n sweetheart?" Dewey said your name making you look up with puffy eyes. "I'm going to need to talk to Stu here for a moment alone. There's a really nice female officer over there that would love to talk to you." You wiped your tears understanding this was a serious situation. Dewey grabbed your hand helping you up from where you and Stu sat. The female cop walked over helping you walk to her car.

"Don't tell me I'm getting arrested 'cause I didn't do anything wrong," Stu spoke as Dewey took a seat next to him. "You're not being arrested. I just need you to tell me what the hell happened tonight."

Dewey wrote down details of Stu's story. "I didn't see that happen I just saw Billy run towards the guy. That's when Y/n grabbed me. She was terrified, man." Dewey shook his head. "Of who? The attacker or her boyfriend?" Stu didn't like the deputy's question. Billy could be and was violent, so was Stu to a degree. It was his idea to slit Casey from groin to sternum. He thought those past experiences made him qualified to determine who was right and who was wrong. "Boyfriend? And Billy beat the shit out of a rapist that's more than you assholes do every day." Stu snapped defending his friend.

"I understand you're upset." It was a sentence constantly taught to the officers to de-escalate a situation. "No, you don't! My best friend is being hauled off to jail while my other friend is crying because some shit stain thought he could do whatever he wanted to. Billy's not the bad guy. I would've killed him."

It was true. Stu hoped that the rage he saw in Billy that night would've gotten that kid's head ripped off. It's what he deserved in Stu's mind.

"Why do you two care about her so much?" Dewey's notepad closed. He was done with the professional questioning. Now he wanted answers to his own selfish questions. Stu was caught off guard by it. It didn't have an easy answer and if it did it wasn't one Stu could come up with. "She's all that I have left." Dewey knew that pain all too well. "You weren't the only one who lost someone you know? You treat me and Billy like villains but you didn't have to see what we did. Billy watched his girlfriend get slaughtered in front of him, you don't think that fucks a man up?"

Dewey emotionally backed off. This was probably the first time anyone cared about what Stu had to say on the matter. "My parents came home the day after I was almost killed just to bitch at me for throwing a party. "Stuart you're smarter than this," "This is what you get Stuart when you break the rules." They don't give a shit about me I've known it my whole life. My friends were the only people that cared and most of them are gone. So I'm sorry for clinging to the two people I have left."

Stu broke down as he ranted. He started to realize how fucked everything had become. How did he miss the friends he wanted to kill? He hated his life. He hated the way things were going and now he was crying to some cop about how he missed it all.

Dewey patted Stu on the back. "I'm sorry." He said. The apology meant a lot to Stu even though Dewey did nothing wrong. "I'm sorry too. I know you miss Tatum." Her name hadn't got any easier to hear. Dewey had said her name over and over again at his house hoping she'd eventually hear him. She'd run down from her room bitching about her brother disturbing her. What he would give to have her upset at him again. Anything was better than this.

"You boys need therapy," Dewey said making Stu laugh through the tears. "Says you." He responded picking at the knees of his coveralls. "I'm being serious. You two and Y/n have been through a lot you said it yourself. Someone to talk to wouldn't be such a bad thing."

Stu shook his head. He couldn't talk to a shrink because he was a murderer. Everybody knows confidentiality doesn't exist. "What's going to happen with Billy?" Dewey scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, he'll probably be released in a couple of hours once we get the story straightened out. Since Y/n was being assaulted Billy acted in good faith by stopping him." Relief washed over the boy. "What about Y/n?"

That was a trickier question one that was really up to you. "She's 18 so if she doesn't want to press charges she doesn't have to. If she does then we'll eventually go to court." Stu wanted to protect you. He hated himself for letting this happen but court wasn't a good idea. Justice would have to be served some other way.

"Hmm." Stu hummed in thought. "Hey, you said earlier that Billy was her boyfriend. What'd you mean by that?" Through all the commotion Stu hadn't listened to Billy's second outburst. "Loomis shouted it when we were trying to pull him away." Stu nodded trying to remember what exactly was said. "You didn't know?" Dewey asked seeing the sad look on Stu's face. "No, I knew. It just happened a couple of days ago. I'm just worried about how people are going to treat them." Stu looked at you shivering underneath Dewey's jacket. "Why don't I take you two home it's getting late."

"What about Billy?" Stu asked once again worried for his lover. "When we get ready to release him we'll call his dad." Stu started to shake his head. "No! He's 18 you can't call his dad. Call me I'll go get him if I have to bail him out I will." Dewey's face screwed up in confusion. Stu sighed trying to convince the cop otherwise. "His dad is a drunk if you call him you'll have more than one problem. Please just don't call him." Stu's pleas were genuine. After everything the last thing Billy needed was his dad screaming at him.

"I'll call Y/n's house when I know something but I can't promise you Mr. Loomis won't find out eventually." Stu stood up thanking the deputy. Dewey struggled to stand up on his own. Without judgment, Stu stuck out his hand helping the officer up on his feet. "Thanks." Stu shrugged in response.

Dewey started up his jeep as Stu walked you to the car. "We're going to go home okay?" You held Stu's hand as you looked around. "Where's Billy?" Stu helped you into Dewey's car as he tried his best to explain without making you cry again. "He's going to be home a little later." Stu climbed in next to you shutting the car door behind him.

The drive consisted of you fighting not to fall asleep while Dewey and Stu talked. "Do you need any help getting in?" Dewey asked as the car came to a stop in front of your house. "No, we'll be fine. Thanks, Dewey."

The deputy drove off once both you and Stu were safely inside. "You left your mask." You caressed his face with your hand. "That's what you're worried about?" Stu chuckled carrying you upstairs. "You looked hot with the mask." You started to cry over the lost mask which only made Stu laugh harder. "Shh hey, please don't cry my sides are hurting." He packed you into your bedroom helping you strip off the gross clothing. You flinched once he grabbed the hem of your dress. "I'm sorry..." He whispered. You shook your head not wanting to think about it. "it's okay. Yeah, it's fine." Your sniffles broke up your words. You helped Stu take off the dress getting over the initial deja vu.

"Bath or shower?" Stu asked walking into your bathroom. Honestly, all you wanted was to go to sleep but your skin was crawling with the memory of that bastard's touch. "Bath please." It came out as a whimper while you fought off more tears. Stu's heart broke a little at the sound.

Once the bath was drawn he helped you into the tub. It was cute how he tried to avert his gaze even though he'd seen you naked many times before. "I'm going to go see if I can find some food." He started to walk away before you stopped him. "Can you stay in here with me? I don't want to be alone." It was sappy and cliche but you didn't know how else to word it. Normally Stu was the clingy one but you needing him around was nice for a change.

Stu helped you get cleaned up while both of you laughed and cried over random things. Eventually, he helped you out wrapping a towel around your frame.

"Thank you." Stu sat your toothbrush and toothpaste out on the sink smiling at your gratitude. "You're welcome, honey. Make sure to brush your teeth, your breath is lethal." He laughed making a face at you. "Your's isn't much better." You joked picking up the toothbrush.

"I'll brush my teeth downstairs if you brush yours. Deal?" You nodded. "Alright, I'll be back up here in a minute." He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he made his way down the steps. As promised he brushed his teeth even using mouthwash after the fact. Before he checked on you he raided your pantry to see if there were any snacks. Stu carried potato chips, chocolate, and a couple of drinks up to your room.

"Don't eat too fast or..." His words trailed off seeing you passed out on the bed with nothing but a towel. Quietly he sat down the snacks saving them for later. "Hey," Stu whispered trying to help you get under the covers. "I'm going to hang up your towel so you don't kill me later for your bed being wet." You mumbled a response still half asleep. The boy smiled tossing the towel over the rack. He peeled off his coveralls leaving them where they hit the floor. He kept his boxers on as he climbed into bed. You hummed scooting next to your lover. Stu pulled you in so your back was flush with his chest. With his arms wrapped securely around you, you had no issue drifting off to sleep.

While you slept Stu thought about everything that has transpired. You and Billy were officially dating now whether you liked it or not. Come Monday you two would once again be the talk of the school. Stu wondered if Billy did it on purpose. When the three of you first established this relationship Stu didn't see a problem with you and Billy being the official couple. As long as it didn't interfere with the dynamic in private he was fine. Maybe he was a little jealous. Not of Billy but of you. You were able to walk around and say Billy was yours now. Something Stu's dreamed about for years you did it in just a couple of months.

The phone rang making both of you jump at the sound. Stu rolled over picking up the audibly offensive object. "Dewey?" Stu rubbed his eyes. "Sorry Deputy Riley." You couldn't make out what Dewey was saying before you finally fell back asleep. Stu looked over at the clock the bright red numbers burned his eyes. "It's almost four in the morning." He groaned. "I know. I'll be there as soon as I can." Stu hung up the phone with a huff. This time around Stu would be the one to clean up the mess.

(if your name is has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)

Part 19

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