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helen-with-an-a · 19 days

Note

sucker for angst can I please request one where putellas!reader is the youngest and gets a heart attack on the field and mapi is the first one to do cpr (alexia is almost inconsolable) very angsty with comforting end

Hiiii - thank you so much for this, I loved writing it. I tried to keep the details of CPR to a minimum, but also I was a lifeguard for over 5 years, and being trained in CPR was essential in our work, so the CPR instructions are true and accurate. I hope that this might stick in someone's mind and should the worst ever happen, you mind be able to remember what to do.

Memory

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Alexia Putellas x sister!Reader

Description: Memory is a blessing and a curse when the Reader falls unconscious during a match

Content Warning: CPR, Medical issues, Illness

Word Count: 6.7k

Alexia prided herself on her memory. It was something she was exceptionally confident in, a skill that had always set her apart. Every little detail, from the exact dates of events to the clothes people were wearing, and even who said what, was meticulously catalogued in her mind.

She could never forget the day her world began to change, the day she first learned about you. Eleven-year-old Alexia was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor beside Alba both of them barely able to contain their excitement as Mami and Papi called them over. The room had an air of something important, something life-altering. And then, with a smile that Alexia could still see in her mind's eye, her mother gently placed a hand on her growing belly and told them the news. Frijolita, they said. A little bean. That’s what they called you before you even had a name. You were the baby who would soon complete their family, the littlest sister who would turn their duo into a trio. Alexia had felt a surge of excitement and responsibility all at once. The idea of having a new sibling was thrilling, but there was something deeper, an unspoken promise she made to herself to always look out for you.

The memory of your actual arrival was just as vivid. Alexia had just turned twelve, the birthday balloons still clinging to the walls of her room. It was the early hours of the morning when her Tío gently shook her awake, his voice hushed but full of excitement. "She's here," he whispered. She had leaped out of bed, her heart racing, and hurried to the hospital, the world outside still dark and quiet. The moment she saw you, bundled up and sleeping peacefully, she felt a connection so strong it was as if she had known you her entire life. You were tiny, fragile, yet perfect. She cried when she met you – the tears slipping down her cheeks as she pressed the gentlest of kisses to your forehead, promising that she would do anything to protect you.

As the years passed, you grew, and so did Alexia's collection of memories. She remembered a three-year-old you, all curiosity and energy, those wide hazel eyes – so much like hers – looking up at her with an innocent plea. You wanted to join her in the backyard as she practiced her skills, your small hands tugging at her shirt, your voice insistent. Despite your age, your determination was unwavering, and Alexia couldn’t resist. She let you chase after the ball, your laughter ringing through the air, a sound that still echoed in her heart.

Then there was the memory of a five-year-old you, stubborn as ever, refusing to be left out. You had clambered onto her lap with surprising force, your small arms wrapping around her as if you were afraid to let go. It was a day she could never forget – your mother sitting on the couch, tears streaming down her face, her heart breaking over your father. The room was heavy with grief, but you, in your innocent determination, had climbed into Alexia's lap as if she could shield you from the sadness, as if being close to her would make everything better. And in that moment, Alexia held you tightly, whispering reassurances she wasn’t even sure of herself. You had looked up at her with those same hazel eyes, filled with trust, and she had made another silent promise – to be the strongest she could, to be strong for you, even when the world around them seemed to be falling apart.

You were ten when you nearly broke her front door down one Saturday afternoon, bursting into the house with a flurry of excitement and noise that filled every corner. The commotion you caused was so overwhelming that it convincingly distracted her from the anger and confusion that had first crossed her mind. She had been startled by the loud banging, wondering who could be causing such a ruckus, but all of that was forgotten the moment she saw you.

"They want me! They want me!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the house as you ran from room to room, barely able to contain your excitement. Nala was just as caught up in the moment, barking and dancing around your feet as if she, too, understood the magnitude of what was happening. You were like a whirlwind, full of energy and joy, and it took a full thirty minutes before you could calm down enough to finally show her the papers you had been clutching so tightly.

When she saw the bold lettering at the top – FC Barcelona La Masia – her heart skipped a beat. Barcelona wanted you. Her little sister, the one she had watched grow and develop her skills with relentless passion, had been noticed by one of the most prestigious football institutions in the world. It was more than a dream come true; it was a validation of all the hard work, all the sacrifices, and all the moments of doubt you had overcome.

As you stood there, beaming with pride, she felt a rush of emotions – pride, joy, and an overwhelming sense of love. This wasn’t just about football; this was about you stepping into a world that would shape your future. And it wasn’t just you – both of you were going to be a part of this journey. The Putellas sisters, together, taking on Barcelona one football game at a time. The thought of the two of you, side by side, wearing the Blaugrana that meant so much to both of you, filled her with an unshakable sense of pride.

But that was just the beginning.

You were sixteen when the next milestone came, a moment that felt like a leap forward in your already impressive journey. You were asked to join the First Team for training. The First Team – the very thought of it was overwhelming. These were players you had idolised, professionals whose skills you had studied and admired. Your sister and all her friends. And now, at just sixteen, you were being invited to train alongside them, to learn from them, to be a part of the team you had dreamed of since you were a little girl kicking a ball around in the backyard.

She remembered how nervous you were that day, how you had paced around the house, trying to hide the anxiety that had crept up alongside your excitement. But she knew you better than anyone, and she could see it in your eyes—the mix of fear and determination that drove you. You were stepping into a new world, one where the stakes were higher, the expectations greater. But she also knew that if anyone was ready for this challenge, it was you.

Then, at seventeen, the dream became even more real. You signed your official first-team contract, a moment that felt both surreal and inevitable. She could still picture the moment when you put pen to paper, your hands steady despite the weight of the moment. This was what you had worked for, what you had sacrificed so much for. It was a culmination of years of dedication, of early mornings and late nights, of triumphs and setbacks. And as you looked up at her, holding that contract in your hands, she saw the same determination in your eyes that had always been there, but now there was something more – confidence, pride, and the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

Mapi also prides herself on her memories. While she might not hold onto every detail with the same intensity as Alexia, she has a knack for remembering the important things, the moments that matter most. And among those cherished memories, the first time she met you stands out vividly, a snapshot in time that she can recall with remarkable clarity.

You were eleven, full of youthful energy and wide-eyed excitement, attending one of Alexia's international matches. It was a big day for your sister, but it was just as important for you. You had always looked up to Alexia, admiring her talent and determination, and now you were there to witness her shine on an international stage, surrounded by the vibrant atmosphere of the stadium.

Mapi remembers seeing you for the first time as you stood by your Mami in the crowd, almost bouncing on your toes with anticipation. Your Mami was talking to someone behind you – another mother of one of the players probably. But your eyes were glued to the pitch. Even at that young age, there was something about you that caught her attention. Maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled with excitement, or the way you clung to every word and action as if trying to absorb everything at once. Or perhaps it was the unmistakable resemblance to Alexia, not just in your features but in the determination and passion that radiated from you. There was a quiet intensity in your gaze, a seriousness beyond your years, as if you understood the gravity of the moment.

As the match played on, Mapi found herself glancing over at you more than once. She was struck by how engaged you were, how you seemed to be analysing every play, every movement on the field, as if you were learning from it, storing it away for future use. It wasn’t just a game to you; it was a lesson, an opportunity to understand what it took to play at the highest level. And even though you were just a kid, Mapi could see that same spark in you that had driven Alexia to greatness.

After the match, when the excitement had calmed down and the players were mingling with friends and family, Mapi finally had the chance to meet you. She remembers how you were practically glowing with pride as you stood beside your sister, your eyes wide with admiration, her name emblazoned across your back. When Alexia introduced you, Mapi couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked up at her, a mix of shyness and awe in your expression. You were polite, a little reserved, but there was no mistaking the respect and admiration you held for her as one of your sister's teammates.

That first meeting was brief, just a few words exchanged, but it left a lasting impression on Mapi. She saw the potential in you, the same drive that had made Alexia a star. There was no doubt in her mind that you were destined for something great, that you would follow in your sister’s footsteps and make your own mark in the world of football. Even then, at just eleven years old, it was clear that you had the heart of a champion.

She also remembered the shy, yet quietly determined 16-year-old who showed up to training for the first time. You had arrived at the training grounds with an air of nervous excitement. You kept glancing across to Alexia, like a child looking back to their mother, for reassurance and support.

The first thing Mapi noticed was your outfit – specifically, the training top you were wearing. It was unmistakably Alexia’s, and it was about three sizes too big for you. The sleeves fell well past your elbows, and the hem completely covered your shorts, but there was something endearing about the way you wore it. It was as if you were carrying a piece of your sister’s legacy with you, a tangible connection to the one who had inspired you to reach this point. It spoke of the bond between you and Alexia, a silent acknowledgment of the footsteps you were following.

Despite the oversized top and the nerves that were probably churning in your stomach, there was a quiet determination in your eyes. Mapi could see it the moment you stepped onto the pitch – a hair tie securing the loose fabric behind you – your focus laser-sharp, your mind set on one thing: proving yourself. There was no hesitation in your movements, no sign of the intimidation that so often accompanies a young player stepping into a world filled with seasoned professionals. You might have been shy off the field, but on it, you were something else entirely.

As the drills began, it quickly became apparent that you were no ordinary 16-year-old. The way you passed the ball, with skill and precision that belied your age, caught everyone’s attention. Each touch was deliberate, controlled, executed with an almost instinctual understanding of the game. Your technique was flawless, the kind that only comes from years of practice and a deep, innate love for the sport. Mapi watched as you moved through the drills with ease, your focus unbroken, your determination shining through with every pass, every turn, every sprint.

Mapi couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as she watched you. She had always known you had talent, but seeing you in action, seeing the way you handled yourself on the pitch, was something else entirely. You weren’t just Alexia’s little sister anymore; you were a force in your own right, a player who was ready to carve out her own path, to make her own name in the world of football.

That first day of training was a glimpse into your future, a future that was clearly bright and full of promise. Mapi knew, as did everyone who watched you that day, that you were destined for greatness. You had the skill, the determination, and the heart of a champion. And even in that oversized training top, you stood tall, a young player on the brink of something extraordinary.

You stood behind your sister in the tunnel. the familiar hum of the stadium echoing around you, the distant roar of the crowd growing louder with each passing second. It was a ritual at this point—Alexia, Cata, you. The three of you always lined up in that order, a reassuring familiarity that helped ease the anxiety before every match. The tunnel was a place of anticipation, where the nerves were almost palpable, but this small routine gave you a sense of calm, a reminder that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As you stood there, your heart thumping with adrenaline, you glanced down at the back of your shirt. Alexia’s name, which had once been proudly emblazoned there during your younger years, was now replaced with your own. It was a symbol of how far you’d come, a marker of your journey from being the little sister who idolised her sibling to becoming a player in your own right. Seeing your name, bold and unmistakable, brought a swell of pride. It was a reminder of the hard work, the sacrifices, and the countless hours of training that had brought you to this moment.

The tunnel, though dimly lit, was alive with energy. Your teammates around you were focused, their faces set with determination. You could hear the steady breathing of Cata in front of you, the way she subtly bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to charge onto the field. And just ahead of her was Alexia, your constant source of inspiration. Even without seeing her face, you could sense her confidence, her leadership. She was the captain, not just in title but in every action, every word. Knowing she was right there, just a step ahead, gave you the reassurance you needed.

It was a typical day in Barcelona—the sun was shining, casting a warm golden glow over everything, and the familiar smell of the sea lingered on the breeze. The city was alive with its usual rhythm, but for you, time seemed to slow as you stepped onto the pitch, crossing yourself in a ritual that had become second nature. Your movements were perfectly synchronised with Alexia’s, a mirror image of the routine you both had followed for years. It was more than just a habit; it was a connection, a shared moment of focus, reminding yourselves of who you were doing this for as the game began.

There had always been a running joke among your friends, family, and even the fans that you, Alexia, and Alba were practically identical – three sisters, a true copy and paste of your parents. From your mother’s eyes to your father’s smile, the resemblance was uncanny. Growing up, it was something you’d heard often, especially whenever the three of you were together. But now, as you stood on the pitch, it was even more apparent.

You had begun to shed the baby fat in your cheeks, your features sharpening into a striking reflection of your sister’s. Your jawline had become more defined, your cheekbones more pronounced, and the athletic build you had worked so hard to develop was now unmistakable. With every passing day, the similarities between you and Alexia grew more evident, not just in appearance but in the way you carried yourself – your poise, your determination, and your unyielding focus on the game.

It was at halftime when you started to feel a little funny, a subtle sensation that crept up on you without warning. You hadn’t really noticed anything was off until Jana, always quick with a joke, pointed it out. “Hey, you look like you just ran a marathon,” she teased, nudging you playfully. “Might need a change of shirt during the break, unless you’re trying to start a new trend.”

You laughed it off, brushing her comment aside with a grin. But as you walked off the pitch and toward the locker room, you couldn’t ignore the nagging discomfort that was beginning to settle in. Your shirt clung to your skin, drenched with sweat in a way that felt excessive, even for the intensity of the match. The usual rush of adrenaline that kept you focused seemed to be fading, replaced by a heavy, sluggish feeling that you couldn’t quite shake.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was buzzing with the usual energy. Teammates were talking strategy, rehydrating, and catching their breath, but you found yourself moving slower than usual, your head feeling slightly foggy. You tried to shake it off, chalking it up to nerves or maybe just the heat of the day, but there was a small voice in the back of your mind that told you something wasn’t quite right.

As you sat down on the bench, you reached for your water bottle, hoping that a good drink would clear the haze. The plastic felt cool against your palm, but your grip was looser than it should have been, as if your fingers weren’t quite responding the way you wanted them to. You took a long sip, letting the water flow down your throat, but it didn’t do much to shake the growing sense of unease that was settling in your chest.

Alexia, always in tune with your every move, noticed the slight frown on your face as you lowered the bottle. She had been watching you closely, her instincts kicking in the moment she saw the unusual look in your eyes. She knew you better than anyone—better than you sometimes knew yourself—and it didn’t take much for her to sense that something wasn’t right.

“Everything okay, Frijolita?” she asked, her voice soft, casual, but with that unmistakable undertone of concern. She wasn’t asking as your captain, with the authority and responsibility that title carried. No, this was your big sister speaking, the one who had looked out for you from the moment you were born, who had always been there to protect you, guide you, and make sure you were okay. The nickname, a tender reminder of your childhood, held a warmth that made you feel safe, even in moments like this when you didn’t feel quite yourself.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Malvavisco,” you replied quickly, forcing a smile that you hoped would reassure her. The nickname you used for her – a playful nod to her sweet and soft side, despite her tough exterior – was meant to lighten the mood, to show her that you were okay, that you could handle this. “Just a bit more tired than usual, I guess.”

But even as the words left your mouth, you knew they didn’t quite fit. “Tired” wasn’t the right description for what you were feeling. It was something deeper, more unsettling. There was a heaviness in your limbs that didn’t belong there, a dull ache that seemed to radiate from your muscles, as if they were protesting against some unseen force. And then there was that strange warmth, an unnatural heat that didn’t seem to come from the usual exertion of the game. It was like your body was trying to tell you something, sending signals that you didn’t fully understand yet.

Alexia didn’t miss a beat. “Mm hm, keep drinking, little and often, okay?” she said, her tone gentle but firm. It was clear she wasn’t entirely convinced by your reassurances, and she wasn’t about to let you brush this off. She knew you too well for that. Her words carried a quiet insistence, a way of saying that she was watching you, that she was here for you no matter what.

You nodded, taking another sip of water, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the unease that was gnawing at you. You wanted to push through it, to tell yourself that it was just a momentary blip, that you’d be fine once the second half started. But the truth was, you weren’t sure. The heaviness in your limbs, the trembling in your hands, the warmth that didn’t seem to belong—they were all telling you that this wasn’t something you could just ignore. You would get it checked after the match.

Alexia and Mapi both curse their memories now, those sharp, unforgiving recollections that refuse to fade with time. What once had been a source of pride – a keen sense of recall that allowed them to remember every crucial play, every victory, every shared moment of joy on and off the pitch – had turned into something they wished they could escape. Now, their memories played on a relentless loop, like an unwanted movie they couldn’t pause, rewind, or fast-forward through. It was always there, lurking in the quiet moments, ready to spring to life when they least expected it.

For Alexia, her memory was a double-edged sword. She had always relied on it to guide her through matches, to anticipate her opponent’s next move, to recall every piece of advice from her coaches. But now, it betrayed her, forcing her to relive that day over and over again. She could see it all so clearly – the way the sunlight had filtered through the stadium, the way your face had looked so determined, so focused. And then, the way it had changed, how you had suddenly seemed smaller, paler, as if the very life was draining out of you in front of her eyes. She cursed her memory for making her relive that moment when she first realised something was wrong, the gnawing sense of dread that had settled in her gut, the helplessness that had gripped her as she watched you struggle.

Mapi, too, was haunted by the vividness of her recollections. She had always prided herself on her ability to remember the important things – the strategies, the nuances of her teammates’ styles, the camaraderie they shared. But now, her memory was a tormentor, dragging her back to that moment when everything had shifted. She could still hear the way the crowd’s cheers had faded into a dull roar in her ears, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to the sight of you, struggling to stand, your hands trembling, your breath laboured. It was as if time had slowed, trapping her in that scene, unable to do anything but watch in horror.

They both cursed the vividness of those memories, the way they intruded on their thoughts without warning. It wasn’t just the images that haunted them – the sight of you unsteady on your feet, the trainer rushing to your side, the way the game had suddenly become unimportant in the face of what was happening – it was the emotions that came flooding back with them. The fear, the panic, the desperate hope that you would be okay, and the crushing reality that followed. Those feelings were as raw now as they were then, refusing to dull with time.

You dropped like a bag of bricks. Like a marionette with its strings cut. Like a stack of Jenga blocks being knocked to the ground. One moment you were standing, the next, you were a heap on the floor. You were lucky in some sense. You had no memory of that moment. You felt unwell, your heart was racing too fast, an uncomfortable pressure sitting on your chest. And then nothing. Blackness. Emptiness.

In that blackness, time seemed to lose its meaning. Seconds could have stretched into hours, or minutes might have slipped by in the blink of an eye. The blackness was absolute, a quiet, oppressive void that seemed to hold its breath along with you. It was an eerie calm; it was peaceful but unsettling. It shouldn’t be this calm. It was game day – game days were never this calm.

Outside of the blackness, it was anything but calm. Mapi had been the closest to you. She heard your sharp intake of breath. She had seen the way you crumpled like a house of cards. She tasted the iron in her mouth as she dropped beside you.

Mapi had never been more grateful for her memory in that moment. She hadn’t wanted to attend the optional first aid course that Barça was putting on for the players. Captain’s had to attend, she did not. It was Ingrid who had insisted, her rationale simple and persuasive: “It won’t do any harm to know first aid. You never know when it might come in handy.” At the time, Mapi had seen it as a minor inconvenience, a waste of a perfectly good free afternoon.

Are they responsive?: She gently shook your shoulder and called out softly, “Frijolita, can you hear me?” There was no response. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to remain calm.

Ear to their mouth and look at their chest – are they breathing?: Mapi leaned in closer, her ear near your mouth, her eyes fixed on your chest. She waited and waited. Nothing. No movement. Nothing on her cheek either.

Hands together in the middle of their chest – aim for between the nipples: She positioned her hands, interlocking her fingers and placing them on the centre of your chest, just above the lower half of your sternum.

Down at least 5cm and all the way up: With a deep breath, she began chest compressions, pressing down with firm, deliberate force. She counted each compression, focusing on the depth and rhythm, making sure to allow full recoil between compressions.

Up and down 30 times: Mapi kept a steady rhythm, performing the compressions at a rate of 100 to 120 per minute. She counted aloud, her voice steady despite her nerves, her focus entirely on the task.

Tilt the head back, pinch the nose, create an airtight seal with your mouth: After completing the cycle of compressions, Mapi tilted your head back slightly, pinched your nose shut, and positioned her mouth over yours, forming a tight seal.

Breathe twice: She administered two rescue breaths, each one deliberate and controlled, watching for any signs of chest rise. She repeated the process, her breaths firm but gentle.

Back to the chest: Returning to chest compressions, she resumed her rhythm, the pattern of her actions becoming a practiced dance of urgency and hope.

Staying Alive by the Bee Gees

Wannabe by the Spice Girls

Dancing Queen by ABBA

Respect by Aretha Franklin

Say So by Doja Cat

The SpongeBob Square Pants theme

Each song felt like a lifeline, a rhythmic mantra that guided her actions as she worked. The beats and lyrics looped in her head, a surreal juxtaposition to the gravity of the situation. Tears were streaming down her face and plopping onto your t-shirt.

With each compression, her resolve hardened. She pushed through the exhaustion and anxiety, her hands moving with determined precision. The repetition of her actions became a mantra, each push and breath a testament to her will to keep you safe. The songs in her head were a rhythm to her actions, a strange but effective way to keep her focus sharp and her movements steady.

The sounds of the stadium outside – the murmurs of the crowd, the collective gasp of concern – seemed muted, almost like they were a world away. Her world had narrowed to the urgent task of keeping you alive.

She couldn’t look up. Her body wouldn’t let her. She could hear Alexia. She could hear the sobs, raw and heart-wrenching, punctuated by the occasional choked sob or whispered plea. The sounds were a painful contrast to the clinical efficiency of the medics around her, their voices calm and professional as they continued their work.

Mapi’s vision was a blur, her gaze fixed on the ground, the grass beneath her scuffed and muddied. Her hands were still trembling, and the adrenaline that had fuelled her actions now seemed to drain away, leaving her feeling hollow and emotionally exhausted.

The medics had gently pulled her off you, their movements firm but compassionate. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, which had been a distant background noise, now seemed to echo in her ears with an almost rhythmic insistence. Beeps were good. Beeps meant there was a rhythm to trace. They were a lifeline

Ingrid’s hand appeared in front of her – a guiding light in the dimness of Mapi’s world. The familiar touch was a lifeline of its own, grounding her in a moment when everything felt as though it was spiralling out of control.

“María, min kjærlighet,” Ingrid’s voice was gentle, like talking to a wounded animal. The Norwegian words, though soothing and foreign, carried a warmth and familiarity that Mapi desperately needed. Ingrid’s presence was a comforting constant in the storm of emotions swirling around her.

Mapi looked up, her vision still blurred by tears and exhaustion. Ingrid’s face was a beacon of calm amid the chaos, her eyes filled with concern and empathy. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her fingers reaching out to grasp Ingrid’s hand, seeking solace in the shared strength of their bond.

“I… I didn’t know what to do,” Mapi whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought I was losing her.”

Ingrid squeezed her hand gently, her touch a reassuring anchor. “You did everything you could, María. You were incredible. They’ve got her now, and that’s what matters.”

Alexia had never felt fear quite like that. The pure, unadulterated terror that coursed through her veins was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was a raw, gnawing fear that twisted and turned inside her, threatening to overtake her entirely. She had seen her Papi die, felt the crushing weight of grief as it had changed their lives forever. The memories of that loss were seared into her heart, an enduring ache she carried with her. Now, faced with the possibility of losing you, the fear was even more intense.

The stadium, usually a place of joy and celebration, had become an arena of anguish. The sound of the crowd had faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the frantic shuffling of medical staff and the stifling, heavy silence of the waiting room. Alexia’s heart pounded in her chest; each beat a reminder of how quickly everything could be taken away

She paced back and forth, the hard tile of the hospital floor cold beneath her feet. The familiar surroundings of the waiting area – chairs arranged neatly, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead – were now a blur of sterile emptiness. She barely registered the passing time, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of memories and fears.

She was glad though, that this was a home game. The first one after the Christmas holidays. Your Mami and Alba were in the crowd. She couldn’t imagine having to make that phone call.

“Ale, mija, come sit.” Eli’s voice was rough with suppressed tears.

She moved robotically, dropping heavily onto the open chair and letting her head rest on her mother’s shoulder – mirroring Alba on the other side.

Her mind danced with memories. Your first proper laugh, a bubbly, infectious sound that had filled the room with a joy so pure it was impossible not to smile. She could still picture the way your eyes had sparkled with delight, a tiny beacon of happiness that had made her heart swell with love. She squeezed you a little tighter as she rested on the couch, your back propped against her thighs as she tickled your tummy.

Your first steps, a wobbly but determined series of movements that had marked the beginning of your journey toward independence. Alexia remembered how she had clapped and cheered, her heart swelling with pride as you took those tentative steps towards her, each one a testament to your growing strength and confidence.

Your first birthday had been a celebration of milestones and new beginnings. The cake, with its bright, colourful frosting, had been a highlight of the day. The way you had looked at the cake, your tiny hands reaching out with curiosity and delight, was a moment she treasured before you stuck a sticky, messy fistful towards her as she sat in a seat next to you. The room had been filled with laughter, presents, and the warmth of family gathered to celebrate your first year of life.

She couldn’t do this without you. The very thought of continuing without your presence was unbearable. She would retire, leave behind the game she had devoted her life to. The idea of walking away from everything she had worked for, of going into hiding and never showing her face again, seemed like a small price to pay if it meant keeping you by her side.

As she sat there, the weight of the situation pressing down on her, she didn’t notice the tears trailing steadily down her cheeks. They fell in silent tracks. Her hands trembled slightly, the fingers gripping the edge of her chair as if they could somehow anchor her to reality.

The room was filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the occasional footsteps of hospital staff and the muffled conversations of other waiting families. It was a surreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere, where time seemed to stretch endlessly. Alexia's eyes remained fixed on the door leading to the treatment area, her gaze unwavering as if willing it to open with news of recovery.

“Putellas Segura?” a young man—barely twenty-five with slight stubble and unkempt hair—appeared in front of them. His face was tense, a mixture of youthful anxiety and professional seriousness.

“Sí, sí.” Eli’s voice was a desperate whisper, her eyes searching his face for any sign of good news. She rose from her seat, her heart pounding, her breath shallow.

The young man glanced around the waiting area, his gaze landing on Alexia. “I’m Dr. Ruiz, one of the attending physicians. I have an update.”

Alexia’s heart leaped into her throat, and she squeezed her mother’s hand for support. The tension in the room seemed to coalesce around Dr. Ruiz, his presence a focal point of hope and fear.

“Is she…?” Alexia started, her voice trembling with the weight of the question she needed answered.

Dr. Ruiz took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly as he continued. “She’s stable now. We’ve managed to get her heart rate under control, and she’s responsive. We’re continuing to monitor her closely, but for the moment, she’s out of immediate danger.”

Relief washed over Alexia like a tide, the knot of worry in her chest beginning to unravel. Her knees felt weak, and she leaned heavily back on her chair The room’s oppressive silence seemed to lift, replaced by a collective exhale of relief.

“Can we see her?” Eli’s voice cut through the stillness, urgent and pleading.

Dr. Ruiz nodded. “Yes, you can. I’ll take you to her. She’s in recovery now, and we’ll need to keep monitoring her, but you can see her for a few minutes. Follow me, please.”

The room was dimly lit, with the soft beeping of medical equipment providing a steady, comforting rhythm. Alexia stepped inside, her heart in her throat as she finally saw you lying in the hospital bed.

You were pale but alive, your chest rising and falling with each breath. The sight of you – though still connected to various monitors and IV drips – was a balm to Alexia’s frayed nerves. She approached the bedside, her steps tentative but determined.

“Frijolita,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. She reached out to gently take your hand, her tears falling freely now. The sight of you, still and vulnerable, made her heart ache. But seeing you breathing, with the beeping of the monitor steady and rhythmic, filled her with a profound sense of relief.

Mapi and Ingrid stood nearby, their faces reflecting the same mixture of concern and hope. Ingrid’s eyes were wet with tears, and she looked at Alexia with a look of shared gratitude.

Dr. Ruiz cleared his throat softly, drawing Alexia’s attention back to him. “She’s been through a lot, and we’ll need to monitor her closely for the next few hours. But the immediate danger has passed, and she’s responding well.”

Alexia nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from you. She gently squeezed your hand, whispering softly, “You’re going to be okay. We’re all here for you. We’ll get through this together.”

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

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ladycaramelswirl · 3 months

Text

definitely not old

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

A/N: Did I create an extremely improbable scenario just to suit my need to create another highly improbable scenario? Yes. Do I care that it’s unrealistic? No. Please forgive any typos/ grammatical errors.

CW: suggestive content, but not explicit (like 15+?). Use of y/n one time. (Technically this would probably warrant one of those hostile workplace environment seminars like they had for Derek and Penelope. But it’s funny? Idk this isn’t serious.) Sassy Hotch. Crack plot tbh.

Also I know the timeline doesn’t really make sense, because JJ is a profiler and Emily and Rossi exist, but I imagined Season 1 Spencer while writing this! I guess it’s 2005? Btw I do not know how tapes work, so just pretend it makes sense please. This is so unserious.

Summary: reader wife and Hotch are private people; the BAU team is nosy. Spencer is just constantly in the right place at the wrong time.

Enjoy!

——————

The screen in front of you depicted horror - just not the kind the BAU was used to. The UnSub had confessed to leaving a message in an old tape. He had already been arrested, but you were all hoping it might contain something that might help the conviction stick. Only he was extremely paranoid, so not only had he left the message in a code, but he had spliced it into a tape he thought people were least likely to watch. His p***. It was the last thing to do for the case and everyone was trying to help. You all sit at the round table, and Spencer shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Derek laughs at his shyness and Emily laughs at the very unrealistic movements. She and JJ tilt their heads at the shape the two on the screen have put themselves into.

“That does not look comfortable”, JJ mocks.

The words are out of your mouth before you think. “Trust me it’s not”.

Everyone at the table snaps their heads to look at you.

“Damn Mama”, Derek laughs. “Who are you doing these moves with?”

You try to hold back a laugh. You were not ready to share about your sex life with your colleagues, no matter how close you were. Plus you’re pretty sure Aaron would not appreciate it.

“That is inappropriate workplace conversation”, you say, pausing the video. “And you’re going to miss the next series of code”, you tell him, trying to get him to revert his attention back to the video. Emily grins at your attempted evasion.

“We already got all the code. She just doesn’t want us to tell Hotch she’s capable of all that. Doesn’t want to make the old man feel bad”.

“He’s not old. He’s only 5 years older than you”, you remind her. She puts a hand on her chest in mock offense like you’ve stabbed her. You roll your eyes. “And this is still inappropriate”.

“So it wasn’t Hotch”, Derek laughs.

“You’re just annoyed because you haven’t tried it yourself”, you deflect, moving to sit next to Spencer who seems to actually be doing his job.

“I’ve seen her do yoga and she’s very flexible, so if she couldn’t do it I don’t think you can”, JJ tells Morgan.

“Oh you have no idea what I’m capable of”, he teases, which earns laughs from around the table. “I’m better than the old man for sure”. They all start laughing and talking about you and Hotch.

You roll your eyes. “Wasn’t old in bed last night”, you mutter under your breath. You startle at the sound of a book hitting the floor and see Spencer’s bright red face. JJ, Derek and Emily look over in curiosity at what they might have missed, but you ignore them, attempting to give Spencer an apology for making him uncomfortable. He moves to drink his coffee in an attempt to avoid more of the conversation. Only he chokes on it because Hotch enters the room.

“Have you finished working out the code?”

Everyone’s heads snap to him - JJ, Emily and Derek wearing matching grins. Hotch eyes you patting a coughing Spencer’s back.

“Are you alright?”, he asks.

“Yes! Good! I’m good!”, Spencer squeaks, afraid Hotch is going to ask him why he’s so nervous. Aaron looks to you for some answers but before you can tell him it’s nothing, Spencer suddenly stands up.

“Got the code! Going to call the local PD. DA is waiting”, he warbles before you all watch him run out of the room. Hotch turns back to the rest of you.

“Well then that wraps it up. Go home now, get some rest”, he instructs. Everyone starts packing up. You and Hotch walk towards the door when he realises there’s only 6 of you in the room.

“Where’s Dave?”, he asks.

You’re about to tell him Rossi went to the bathroom when the Italian walks back in. Rossi immediately notes the paused video.

“Wow that looks uncomfortable”, he remarks. Everyone smirks in your direction. Hotch snakes an arm around your waist and looks at the screen. Then at you.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

He smiles at the jaws dropping to the floor.

“Good night everyone”.

—————————

A little bonus scene:

In his office later:

“You heard us talking before you came in the room didn’t you”, you question your husband. He was so private, he wouldn’t have said something like that otherwise.

“They called me old”, Aaron grumbles, but his tone is amused. “Just wanted to shock them a little”.

You make your way over to his side of the desk, pulling him to stand up beside you.

“Well Agent Hotchner, I have to tell you, there’s been some speculation about your performance”, you taunt. “Care to prove them wrong?”

“Last night wasn’t enough proof?”, he laughs raising an eyebrow. You run your hands up his chest and behind his neck, pulling him close.

“The results were inconclusive”, you tease. He grabs your hips and traps you between himself and his desk, his mouth trailing kisses down your jaw.

“Well I can’t have that kind of speculation going around”, he murmurs into your skin. Your breath hitches from the sensation of his lips on the sensitive spot on your neck. But instead of continuing, he pulls away and meets your eyes in a conspiratorial grin. “We should do an in house evaluation as soon as possible”.

You open your mouth to reply when the door swings open, Spencer finding you sandwiched between Hotch’s thighs and your blouse rumpled. His mouth drops open and suddenly all 187 iq points mean nothing when his brain loses function.

“Oh- I- um- sorry!”, he manages before running away. You stare at the slammed door then back at Aaron and burst into giggles. He drops his head to your shoulders and sighs.

“I feel like a teenager”, he groans.

“At least you don’t feel old.”

—————————

Bonus bonus:

Still in the conference room:

“I want to go back to 10 minutes ago when I didn’t know this information”, Emily moans.

“I think I need 5 more minutes before I can form a coherent thought”, JJ laughs in disbelief. Spencer walks back in.

“I finished my report. Where’s Hotch and y/n? Can we go home?”

“Probably doing it in his office for all we know”, Derek mutters.

Spencer’s brows furrow in confusion. “Doing what in his office?”

Rossi raises an eyebrow at Emily. “Is this kid serious?”

She shrugs back at him.

“Spence, Hotch says we can go home. But you should probably report about what local PD told you before you go”, JJ tells him.

Spencer nods and makes his way to Hotch’s office. The rest of the team watch him walk away.

“You think we should have told him to knock before going in?”

“Probably.”

The sound of a high pitch yelp and the slam of an office door echo down the hallway.

“Oops.”

——————

thank you for reading :)

masterlist

#criminal minds #bau team #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #emily prentiss #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #crack fic

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maidservant-hecubus · 3 months

Text

My father is an Ashkenazi Jew. His parents were first generation Americans. Their parents escaped the pogroms in Russia and Ukraine and came to find their American dream. They fought in wars and opened businesses and assimilated and my generation barely has a few words of Yiddish between us. My mother is as much of a WASP as it gets. American Revolutionaries and Signers and some household name civil war feature players. Not old money, but old America and undoubtedly white. I'm patrilineal. Not a Jew to a lot of Jews. Not a Jew to a lot of my Jewish family. Even though i was raised Jewish. Even though I look like my father. Even though i got enough of something in my DNA to get asked "What are you?" more often than not. More often than I'm just accepted at face value as "white". When i was little we lived in an Irish Catholic neighborhood. Like the 5-10 kids in every family sort of Irish catholic neighborhood. The kids calling me a christ killer and refusing to play with me because they heard it from their parents sort of irish catholic neighborhood. For some reason my parents tried to send me to the catholic school down the street. I lasted less than a week because i didn't understand their rituals and their language and they found out my father was a Jew and they couldn't have a christ killer in their midst. I was just sad i didn't get to wear the cute plaid skirt anymore. So i went to the public school and my well meaning shiksa mother who never converted but learned the Chanukah prayers and helped cook Seder dinners came to the school to teach the class about Chanukah. She taught them songs and all the kids got dreidels and had so much fun spinning the top for chocolate coins. It was nice to feel normal. A few weeks later a boy in a higher grade attacked me on the way to the bus and smashed my art project (we had made pig noses from solo cups to celebrate reading charlotte's web) into my face and called me a filthy jew. I didn't understand, i was more upset to lose the project i was so proud of. Other things happened. Things I wont talk about because putting them in context would doxx me. But a million reminders that i wasn't one of them. I wasn't welcome because i was Jewish. My parents divorced. My mother left. Far away so I'd only see her a handful of times growing up. And I went to live with my Dad in a city that seemed like it was overflowing with Jews. Everyone knew my holidays! In public school the teachers looked like my family and had familiar sounding names. We had the high holy days off just like christmas or easter. We sang Chanukah songs in the winter recital and nobody's mom had to come teach them to the class. Finally I belonged! My friends and cousins started planning for their b mitzvah celebrations and i asked for my own. I asked to go to hebrew school so i could be more like the people i belonged with and celebrate the things i loved about myself and them. "But you're not jewish." My father would say. This was news to me. The christ killer. The filthy jew. But a 10 year old has little power over their lives. So i didn't go. I didn't have a bat mitzva while my cousins had theirs. It was okay because i still belonged more than i ever had. But i was still jewish enough to keep the holidays and pray and fast and get sent with a box of matzo to my WASP grandmothers for easter, and have matzo packed in my lunch to eat in AP algebra in 7th grade and get asked if I'm a "Yid" by the teacher. And still to this day not know if it was endearment or insult but by then I knew even in this magical city being a Jew wasn't always safe. in highschool I tried to take hebrew lessons with a friend in a similar situation as me. She was also hungry to reconnect. I don't remember why the classes or the friendship fell through, but they did. My next "friend", a goy raised catholic from another neighborhood, liked to accuse me of being money driven when i picked up a penny on the sidewalk or tried to ask who was going to pay for the zine's she wanted to publish.

"What are you?" I'd get asked a lot on the street by curious strangers, "Where are you from?" "Are you Italian?" Always Italian. I never really understood that, but its become code in my head for "You look like you're white but something about you is very not white and I just can't place it, so Italian seems safe and polite." I'm not here to unpack the Italian part of all that. I don't even know what I'm unpacking for myself by writing this except I've been sick for days and I'm so tired and this is all that my foggy brain can wrap itself around. Later I'm an adult and on my own and getting bloodwork done. The Nurse is a black woman and so sweet to me. She can tell I'm nervous about the needles because I've already stumbled through my apologies for my herd to find veins. So she distracts me with small talk. Where do i live? I tell her. She looks worried for me. Tells me that it used to be a nice neighborhood before white people took it over and she warns me like she's my own mother to be careful because they aren't safe. I doublecheck the skin she's putting a needle into. Whatever she sees isn't white. I love her for it. For a moment I belong there with her. She doesn't ask what I am or where i'm from, but she knows what i'm not. I'm the only one keeping the holidays with my family. We celebrate Passover because I go home to my fathers and cook the dinner and print out the Haggadah and lead the Seder to the tune of my drunk catholic stepmother eating my food and telling me i'll never be a jew. She's more of a jew than I'll ever be because she grew up in a jewish neighborhood and her friends were all jews and she married a jew and i was just playing pretend. I stopped going home for holidays and they stopped observing anything except Christmas. I marry a goy. "Is he a jew?" is the first thing my father asks and he's disappointed when i say no. He's abusive, i run. I end up living in the attic of this older old money WASP couple who need a live in house sitter. They're pillars of their church and they know someone from the WASP side of my family very well and its a funny coincidence and they think i belong there. I know from their divest from Israel bumper stickers that i don't. Then they find out I consider myself Jewish and i see the light in their eyes die and its replaced by something hard and disappointed. Now, while writing this, i can laugh about being the jew in someone's attic. But then, it was only a few months after that they started coming up with excuses for why I needed to move out. I did, their excuses never manifested into reality. I got married again. A jew this time! a Jewish medical professional liek grandma always wanted. She's a convert and her ex was a rabbinical student. I think maybe i'm home finally. She has to understand. I'm not Jewish enough for her. We don't keep holidays at home because i'm not a jew. I cry every year when pesach comes and goes and i haven't recited the plagues or eaten matzo piled high with horseradish. She insists on putting up a christmas tree. She turns abusive. I run.

I'm alone now and no longer in that magic jewish city. I'm far away and surrounded by mega churches and cows and the bagels suck and people quote the bible at me like some call and response that i don't have the cheat code for and I don't belong here at all but i'm finally finally free to light my menorah and recite the plagues and study torah with the group i found here on tumblr who love and accept me even though i'm patrilineal. Oct. 7th happened a few weeks after I moved here. I worry about my family back home and i think no one will look for Jews here among the cows and mega churches, so I can be a safe place for them to run if things get bad again. But i still don't fit in here. I don't look right. The last name I have now is common here and too white for whatever people see when they look in my face. I get interrogated about it a lot. But i learned quickly how to smile and say "have a blessed day". I hide my menorah when maintenance comes to work on my apartment. I flew home last month. Just for a visit. I've never been away from home this far or this long. And I'm the type that covers nerves and anxiety with chattiness, so at the airport i made a for-now-friend while we both waited for the plane to board. She's Puerto Rican. We talk about our lives. Our families. Her twin sister and i go by the same nickname and so we're family now. We talk about food. So much food and how much we love cooking and how important food was at home. "Are you Italian?" she asks as we're stepping through the hatch into the plane. Why always Italian? I wonder for the millionth time in my life. And I freeze up for a moment between fighting my carry-on over the gap and terror that I'm about to see the light go out behind her eyes and i'll lose this for-now friend. "No," i laugh but its not a real laugh and i see the concern in her face as we squeeze through the aisle because she can hear the apprehension in my voice, "I'm Jewish." And something strange happened because her face lit up and she smiled and said "No way?! You guys have GREAT food!"

#I don't know why i wrote this only that i needed to #jumblr #ashkenazi #white passing #antisemitism #judenhass #oct 7 #hope #okay to reblog

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munsonsprincess11111 · 6 months

Text

She's proud.

Eddie munson x reader

Summary: short but sweet Wayne watching you and Eddie over the years. The upside down doesn't exist in this.

1983-

Eddie invited a girl he liked to his house to hang out. Wayne walked past his nephews room and peeked in checking nothing was going on. Wayne was met with his nephew and the girl who's name he didn't know sat awkwardly in the edge of Eddie's bed. He chuckled to himself and went to the bathroom.

1984-

Wayne was walking to the bathroom and saw Eddie's door open so he peeked in knowing you was over making sure you was both OK. You were Eddie's girlfriend and had been over a lot. Before he could speak he saw you laying on your side asleep and Eddie laying practically on top of you also asleep. He smiled and went to the bathroom.

1985-

Wayne heard a racket coming from Eddie's room, so he decided to go see what it was. You had graduated. Eddie had not. Yet you two were still together. When Wayne opened eddies door, he was met with you and Eddie Pillow fighting. You stood on his bed. Eddie stood next to the bed. Eddie dived taking you down to the bed, and he kissed you. Wayne closed the door and laughed, going back to the living room.

1986-

Wayne looked into his nephews room and saw the boxes piled as you both were taking them out to Eddie's van. You and Eddie found an apartment to rent off of a friend of Wayne's and took it immediately. Wayne smiled to himself looking to where Eddie's bed used to be to see you and Eddie stood your arms wrapped around one and other. Eddie looked at Wayne and smiled before you let eachother go and continued moving boxes.

1987-

Wayne was helping you, and Eddie at your apartment as you'd just got married and as there wasn't many people you had the after party there. He was helping throw trash away as you were just married. Eddie came walking out of the bathroom in his boxers and tee shirt before starting to help Wayne tidy.

Moments later you joined them on the cleaning mission. Not only were you wearing your matching wedding band with Eddie but also his tee shirt and his guitar pick necklace. Wayne glanced between the both of you as you looked at eachother with lovesick smiles as Eddie kisses you. You scrunch your face and mumble something to which Eddie pretends to be hurt by grabbing his chest.

You lean over and kiss him as he smiles finishing tidying up.

1988-

Wayne walks into your apartment seeing you stood in the kitchen and Eddie in the living room. He walks into the living room and sees Eddie standing bouncing his 5 day old daughter. "You did it." Wayne says, sitting on the couch. Eddie looks at his uncle, confused then to you as you enter the living room with a shrug.

You sit on the couch aswell also looking at Wayne confused. "When Eddie was around 11 he told me he never wanted a girlfriend let alone a wife and kids. When he met you he wanted that and more. Here he is stood bouncing you twos baby in your apartment married to you." Wayne says leaning back.

Eddie remembers the conversation between him and Wayne and smiles glancing down at his daughter. "And its like you said to me you say that now but you'll meet someone who will change that. Hate to say it but I suppose you was right." Eddie says eith an eye roll.

"You admitting to being wrong will always be funny to me you child." You say handing Wayne his coffee. Eddie passes you your daughter and sits next to you wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Wayne looks at the two of you and smiles again.

Both looking at your daughter. Both wearing wedding rings. Eddie glancing at you and smiling and occasionally kissing your head. Wayne thinks back to when you was both sat awkwardly on Eddie's bed.

"You know y/n when you left after the first time you came to the trailer Eddie wouldn't stop rambling about how embarrassed he was because held your hand and his hand was all sweaty and he thought he'd never see you again." Wayne says with a smirk looking Eddie dead in the eyes as his jaw goes slack.

"I hate you so much. I told you that in secret. Can't believe my own uncle would betray me like that." Eddie says mouth still agape starring at wayne.

"Your telling me out of everything I already know about you that embarrasses you. Eddie were married for fucks sake and that embarrasses you not that fact you decided it was a good time to take a dump while I was showering that." You say starring at your husband.

"Number one, we had just started talking n I had this big crush on you I thought I'd messed up so yes Mt teenager acts embarrass me. Number two why are you both spilling my secrets fuck me." HE says throwing his head back. You giggle and kiss his jaw.

Wayne smiles looking at the two of you seeing how Eddie's grown. How you've grown together. He's never been prouder.

Hours later you had gone to you and Eddie's bedroom to feed your daughter. Eddie seeing Wayne out. "By the way Ed?" Wayne says before he leaves ans Eddie glances up at him. "Your mother is so proud of you right now." HE says smiling at Eddie.

Eddie smiles at wayne and Nods. "You think?" He says raising his eyebrows.

"I know." Wayne says before leaving.

Eddie walks to your bedroom to see your daughter feeding of you and you glance at him. "He's right." You say. "HUH?" Eddie says confused.

"Your mom is so fucking proud of you." You says quietly. Eddie crawls next to you and kisses you. "I love you so fucking much." Eddie says putting his forehead on yours.

"I love you so fucking much too." You says kissing him again. Eddie looks at his daughter and rests his head on your shoulder.

This was all Eddie needed right here. His daughter and his wife. What he never thought could happen to him did. Nothing could ruin him. Not the bully's from Hawkins High, not his dad, not what people think of him. The only people who matter are sat on his bed with him. He kisses you again taking you by surprise this time and you smile at eachother.

You were Mr, Mrs and mini munson.

And Wayne ofcourse

<3.

#eddie m #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things

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mistydeyes · 1 year

Note

So we had soap cousin how about ghost cousin x tf boys Hcs? She’s older than Simon and the two are super close. She would’ve been a barrier between him and his dad growing up. I can picture him being the least pissed at Price, meanwhile he’d be raging at Gaz and Soap. Soap would call her a milf and Simon has to be held back like a rabid dog

I’d love to see your take on this 🥰

ahhh I love this idea so much! thank you for reading my post about soap's cousin and requesting this :)

last name: riley

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: Despite Ghost trying to keep his family history secret, he can't avoid it when you, his older cousin, is transferred to his base. Now he has to keep his team in check as they want to get to know you more ;)

pairing: Task Force 141 (except Ghost) x fem!Reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional abuse/trauma

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

following the briefing, Gaz and Soap exited and invited Ghost to join them at the mess hall

however before Ghost could leave, Price stopped him at the door

"Can you stay back, Simon?" Price asked and everyone immediately knew something was up

especially when first names were used

being the nosy sergeants that they are, Soap and Gaz waited by the door and tried to listen in

after 10 minutes, Ghost emerged and looked surprisingly calm

"What was that about?" Soap asked as he tried to keep up with Ghost

"My cousin is getting transferred to one of the unit's on base" he said plainly and he was bombarded with questions

both Gaz and Soap were amazed that he had a cousin, especially one who he didn't seem to hate

eventually, Ghost slams his bedroom door on him and they're both left wondering what you're like

"God I hate the English weather," you complained as you arrived by helo to your new home

after months abroad, your captain decided to reassign you to the UK

you were initially upset but when you learned your cousin was also stationed there, your mood changed

"Is that little Simon Riley I see?" you exclaimed, seeing your cousin standing a few meters away

you slung your duffle on your back and ran towards him

despite being a good half foot taller than you, you hugged him tightly

"It's good to see you, Si," you said as you couldn't remember the last time you saw him

he returned it awkwardly as you took a look at his attire

"Still wearing that awful mask I see," you joked, lightly punching him on the shoulder

as you were chatting on the way to your quarters, you could see a man around your age leading two sergeants behind him

despite the captain's stern look, the two sergeants walked up to you and bombarded you with questions

"Sorry ma'am, they heard you were the Lieutenant's cousin and were trying to sneak out to meet you" he apologized and you laughed heartily

"What a welcome committee!" you smiled before looking back at them, "I'm Captain Riley."

as you introduced yourself and got to know Simon's team, they noted how you and Ghost shared different hair colors but the same piercing gaze

they also noted how you looked like you should be on the army's website with your light hair and hazel eyes as well as your fit physique

you also were much kinder than their Ghost and your smile brightened the drab hallway

"Riley?" one of them asked and you nodded, "our dads were brothers."

queue more questions about Simon's family history

while he tried to silence them, you were more than happy to answer a few of their questions

"Our dads were absolute arseholes, he sent me to live with Simon and I'd get into screaming matches with his old man," you explained

Simon remembered the times you were sent to Manchester and how you were the only one who could keep up with his father's insults and emotional abuse

despite being 5 years younger than you, he would follow you around and act like your best friend

you were surprised when you saw him after he joined the army and he was pure muscle (no longer the small boy who you would sneak out to get sweets with)

"His dad made basic seem like holiday" you joked, trying to lighten the mood

you answered a few more questions about you previous post before you began to yawn due to the jet lag

"Well it was a pleasure to meet you, Captain Riley," Price said shaking your hand

"Glad to see Simon is doing well here," you beamed, "now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my quarters"

As you walked away you could hear Gaz and Soap chatting with Simon. "You didn't tell us your cousin's a bonnie lass," Soap exclaimed, a little too loud for Simon's comfort, "she got a mans in Manchester?" You smiled at the compliment, making sure to walk extra slow to hear it all. While both sergeants were undeniably attractive, plenty of men had acted the same way to you during the course of your career. Before Simon could reply, you could hear Gaz interject. "How old is she?" he asked innocently. "Too old for either one of you," Price interrupted, "and she's a captain so that's far above your ranks." Out of Simon's task force, you assumed you were the closest in age to Price. You tried to do the mental math being 5 years older than Simon but decided it wasn't worth it as Simon would never let any of them speak to you again. As Gaz and Soap groaned lightly, you thought the conversation was over. However, Soap had one last thing to say. "That's a proper milf if I've ever seen one," he mumbled before you could hear Simon let out a string of insults and swears. You smiled to yourself, "guess Si finally learned how to stand up for himself."

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homeofthelonelywriter · 2 months

Text

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 1

(A/N) Aaaaaahhhh, I loved the prompt by @lunamoonbby and I'm so glad they allowed me to write a whole fic about it. Will probably write a second part because this is just too cute!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: lots of fluff

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

A deep sigh escaped your lips when the door closed behind the last customer. It had been a long and tiring day, your legs had started hurting five hours ago, and all you wanted to do was finish closing the bakery and head home. But there was a lot to do before you could, so you put on some music and got started.

Quietly singing along, you disappeared into the kitchen, where you portioned the cupcake dough you had made earlier into the baking trays and slid them into the oven, setting a time on your phone before you started cleaning. As quickly as possible, you washed all the bowls, whiskers, and anything else that had gotten dirty that day, the thought of your bed ever present in your mind. Once you were done with that, you quickly vacuumed the floor and were about to wipe it, when a familiar sound stopped you.

The bell that hung above the door to the bakery rang out and you cursed at yourself. Had you really forgotten to lock the door after the last customer left? With another sigh, you walked into the salesroom, an annoyed ‘We’re closed’ almost leaving your lips before your eyes fell onto the little girl who had walked in. Her eyes were big and round, shining with unshed tears while her lips trembled.

“Oh dear, are you okay?”

You rushed to her side and knelt down in front of her, reaching out to gently grasp her shoulder.

“I…I l-lost da-daddy.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears began to stream down her cheeks, her little shoulders shaking with every hiccup as she tried to suppress the sobs. Without thinking, you pulled her into a hug, her little fingers immediately curling into the fabric of the shirt you were wearing.

You stayed like that, hugging the little girl until she calmed down a bit, her body still shaking with hiccups. But you pulled away, gently swiping the tears away, as you gave her a reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ll find your daddy, yeah?”

She nodded, though she didn’t seem too confident. Convincing her would take some work.

“Okay, let’s start with your name, hm? Can you tell me that?”

“Mi-Millie.”

Your smile pulled into a grin, that you hoped looked proud.

“Great! Now, what’s your daddy called?”

Millie looked at you, confused.

“Daddy.”

You should’ve expected that answer. After all, she looked to be about four. What four-year-old knew their parent’s actual name?

“Oki dok. Do you know any way I can reach him? His phone number?”

She shook her head, a pout forming on her lips as she glanced at the floor. You hesitated for a second, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay, let me just grab my coat and we’ll go to the police station nearby. I’m sure he would go there to look for you.”

But before you could rise to your feet, Millie reached out and stopped you, a panicked look on her face.

“No! We…We can’t go to the police. They don’t like daddy.”

Her statement confused you, but with the way she looked at you, you couldn’t force her to go either. While you were contemplating what to do, the timer on your phone went off and you got an idea to at least keep her busy until you came up with something. With a smirk, you looked at her.

“Do you like cupcakes?”

Millie looked confused but nodded. You rose to your feet and held out your hand, offering it to her.

“Want to decorate some while we wait for your daddy? You can even decorate one for him.”

A bright smile spread across her lips and you couldn’t help but fall in love with it. She nodded full of enthusiasm, her worries gone for at least the moment. So, after helping her out of her jacket and with her hand in yours, you led her to the kitchen and sat her down on the counter. You were just glad that the kitchen had a window front to the street. That way, if her father came along, he would be able to see her inside.

“Wait here for me, okay?”

She nodded and watched as you carefully pulled the hot trays out of the oven and placed them on a counter, far away from the little girl. You then checked the fridge, to see if there was any buttercream left, but there wasn’t. So you grabbed all the ingredients and walked back to Millie.

“Do you want to help me make some buttercream? We can even color it.”

Her eyes lit up and she nodded vigorously. After you put an oversized apron on her, you showed her a simple buttercream recipe, Millie snacking on it the whole time while you made it. Once it was done, you portioned it into different small bowls.

“What colors do you want?”

“Pink! And purple and blue and green and also yellow.”

You chuckled and nodded, pulling the needed food colors from a shelve. As you slowly placed them with the bowls, Millie reached up and tugged on your sleeve.

“Can we also make some black? Daddy really likes black.”

You again nodded and retrieved the last color. Together, you colored the buttercream, Millie whisking away at the pink one, while you quickly finished the other colors. Once you were both happy, you showed Millie how to put all the different colors she chose into the same pipe, so that it would be a colorful swirl when put onto a cupcake. She watched, her eyes wide and sparkling as if you were showing her how to create magic dust.

Once the cupcakes had cooled enough, you brought three over, one for each of you and one for her dad. While you carefully guided her hands, showing her how to use the pipe, you watched her as she poked her tongue out in concentration. A soft smile spread on your lips as adoration for the little kid overcame you.

Once all three cupcakes had buttercream on them, it was time for sprinkles. Millie of course wanted a lot of sparkles, hearts, and bows. While she was busy combing through the different sprinkle containers you had, you retrieved a large chocolate heart from the fridge. You used it to decorate cakes, but you thought Millie would love it. But for the moment, you decided to hide it, only wanting to reveal it when they were done.

“Did you find something you like?”

Millie nodded, while still looking through the containers.

“Do you have skulls?”

It took you a moment to realize that she was still talking about sprinkles. Once you overcame that initial shock, you nodded and retrieved another box, the one you kept the seasonal sprinkles in. You handed the little girl a container filled with small skulls, pumpkins, and spiders and she smiled.

“Daddy really likes skulls.”

You smiled as you stored that information. Black and skulls and not on good terms with the police. Sounds dangerous.

For the next few minutes, you decorated the cupcakes. For your own, you decided to go with your favorite sprinkles and a bit of glitter. Millie truly overdid her own and her father’s cupcake, but you couldn’t help but smile as you watched her concentrate, trying to find a free spot where one more skull sprinkle would fit.

Just as she found the spot and pressed the white form into the buttercream, the bell above the door rang out again and you could hear fast footsteps approaching. Both you and Millie turned to look toward the door and you couldn’t help but step in front of the little girl, shielding her body with yours. But then you heard it.

“Millie!”

A large man burst through the door, wild eyes finding yours before they jumped to the girl behind you.

“Daddy!”

With a relieved sigh, he fell to his knees, opening his arms as his little girl bolted toward him, almost stumbling over the apron on her way. She crashed into his chest, wrapping her short, little arms around his neck as best as she could. A soft smile tugged on your lips as you watched the duo. His brows were furrowed, but not in an angry way. No, he looked scared and desperate, but at the same time so very relieved.

Not picking up on her dad’s whirlwind of emotion, Millie immediately began talking, telling him all about the cupcakes. The man glanced up at you as his daughter pulled out of his hug and rushed back to the counter. As soon as your eyes met his, you felt a shiver run through you. You couldn’t explain it, but the way he looked at you felt…intimate.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look what we made.”

Millie quickly had his attention again, as the man joined her at the counter, his eyes landing on the cupcakes.

“We made them. There is one for me. And one for you. And one for her!”

He smiled - good god did he look stunning when he smiled - as he watched Millie point out all the details.

“Well done, munchkin. Why don’t you finish up so we can go home, hm?”

Millie nodded, not reacting when he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before he turned to you. Oozing confidence, he took a few steps toward you, only stopping once he was close enough that you could smell his cologne. Another shiver ran through you at the proximity, as you had to crane your neck to meet his eyes.

“I’m Simon. Thank you for…well, for taking care of her.”

You smiled, and for a moment Simon stopped breathing. The moment he spotted you through the window front he knew you were beautiful, but smiling up at him, you were just stunning, his fingers itching to reach out and feel you against him.

“It was a pleasure.”

Your eyes left his and landed on Millie as she poured more sprinkles onto her cupcake.

“She is amazing. Told me not to go to the police, because they don’t like you.”

You chuckled, expecting him to do the same, but he avoided your eyes as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“She’s not wrong there. I-”

He was interrupted by Millie calling for him. And with an apologetic smile, he joined her at the counter. While the two were busy, you decided to quickly clean whatever you could, the rest you would do the next morning. Once you were done, you grabbed a box and the heart you had hidden, before walking up to the pair. Millie was showing Simon how you had put all the different colors into the piping bag, as he reacted with ‘ohs’ and ahs’ at exactly the right moments. You smiled as you watched, quickly catching Simon’s attention, as he glanced at you with a crooked grin.

“Millie?”

The little girl stopped and looked up at her dad, who gently motioned toward you. As soon as she saw the heart you were holding on a napkin, she started bouncing with excitement. Carefully, you handed it to her and watched as she stuck it into the buttercream on her cupcake, a big grin on her face.

After a few moments of her admiring it, you convinced her to let you box up the cupcakes, so she could leave with her father. While you did that, Simon carried his daughter to the sink, where he helped her wash her hands, before he dried them for her. With the box, you met them in the salesroom, where Simon was helping his daughter into her jacket. You knelt down and carefully handed the box to her.

“Don’t drop it, okay?”

She nodded and grinned, watching as you rose back to your feet. Simon was standing beside her, his wallet in his hands. Before he could say anything, you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“But-”

“I insist. It was a pleasure to spend time with your daughter.”

He smiled, and before you could protest, he shoved a few notes into the tip jar on the counter. You inhaled, ready to protest, but when you looked at him, you knew that it was futile, so you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Thank you.”

The intensity of his gaze was too much, and you quickly found yourself glancing at the floor, jumping slightly as you felt his lips press to your temple.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

He pulled back and you glanced up. Simon easily picked Millie up, before bidding you goodbye and walking out of your bakery. Millie waved at you the whole time until they were out of sight. A soft smile spread across your lips, as you turned towards the corner, curiously pulling out the tip Simon had left you. But when you counted the bills, you couldn’t believe it. You counted them three more times, before accepting the fact that he had left you $300.

But what caught your attention even more, was a black business card in the middle of the folded notes.

Simon Riley.

Simon.

Riley.

Riley!

A gasp left your mouth as you realized who you had just dealt with. Simon Riley, the local mafia boss, feared by everyone, hunted by the police. No wonder Millie didn’t want you to go to the police. As you continued to stare at the card, a shiver ran through you, wondering if you’d see the mafia boss again.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

#ghost #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #cod #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #fanfiction #fluff

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noctivagant-corvid · 2 months

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part 2 of my prime defenders dash simulator (pt 1, pt 3, pt 4)

🪼mackleless Follow i make a post asking for tide x wavelength rpf fics. the post semi blows up. tidalwave(WE HAVE A SHIP NAME????) now has 300 fics. guys.

🪼mackleless Follow not complaining though. you guys are making the old guys fuck nasty and cry, and i’m here for it

5,231 notes

🤺tearfulatthefalling Follow my college is haunted by a emo kid

🍋 forscoreandsixyearsago Follow TEARS????? ELABORATE?????

🤺tearfulatthefalling Follow ALRIGHT GATHER ROUND LITTLE CHILDREN LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE EMO BOY WHO HAUNTS MY CAMPUS. around a year ago, people started seeing a pale boy with a strip of white hair and blue raccoon tails, along with little blue fires floating around him. he would appear, stare at the person who saw him, then disappear, along with his little fires. he wears a black hoodie with some weird text and sweatpants. he is almost always in the freshman boy’s dorm- except for twice people saw him in the library. he hasnt done anything but theres a tall kid with purple hair whos name i dont know who wore his sweatshirt once, so he might be fucking a ghost.

🍋forscoreandsixyearsago Follow tears what the fuck

👾bonemarroni Follow reblog if you are a kid with purple hair who might be fucking a ghost

12,374 notes

🪐plutoisaplanetish Follow some days you are the hero putting a giant sword through a space meatball. other days you are the space meatball getting a giant sword put through you.

🪐plutoisaplanetish Follow stop making this post about sex

287 notes

🪷locustlotus Follow shout out to lightspeed, the patron saint of lesbians. a roller derby queen.

🌜crescentshendo Follow [[ ALT TEXT: An image of superhero Lightspeed from two years ago, posing with a college roller derby team after a match. She's very sweaty. End id. ]] here's an image for all the women likers :3

🌜crescentshendo Follow [[ ALT TEXT: A screenshot of various tags left under the previous post, reading "#HOFOSGOS. #HOLY SHIT." , "#wwomen heart eyes" , "#i am. a lesbian!!!!!!" , and "#LORD IN HEAVEN FORGIVE ME FOR MY THOUGHTS." . End id. ]] glad we're all on the same page

8,674 notes

👁‍🗨darlingsos Follow DCs hair is red bc red has more positive associations than negative ones

🍭sweetlikevinegar Follow LET THE JOKE DIEEEE

👁‍🗨darlingsos Follow NEVERRRR

23 notes

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow do you guys think the heroes know they have fanfic

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow does bacon man sit down at home and decide to look through his ao3 tag (which has. 25k works.)

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow AND SOME OF THEM HAVE CHILDREN,,,, imagine you log on to ao3 and your dad is trending with either x readers or fucking his coworkers. horrifying.

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow [[ ALT TEXT: A screenshot reading "ASHES2ASHES liked your post: do you guys think th..". End id. ]] ASHES TWO ASHES ??????????

765 notes

🧶handsupplayingmysong Follow there's two kids on the train next to me and they're both wearing those big, over the ear Autism headphones and clearly overstimulated. theyre also holding hands. a great day for the gay community

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☄tapedtogetherhope Follow one of my friends grew up in deadwood and they will just say. the most concerning shit. at any given time.

☄tapedtogetherhope Follow examples of this: 1. "you know, the part in the forest where all the blood is." 2. "everyone's got the old man on the outskirts of town who might eat people." 3. "if you see a rabbit with too many eyes you just keep walking! same goes for a wall leaking black liquid." 4. "sometimes people just disappear. usually one every year. the highway is hungry. or maybe it's the forest." 5. "sometimes if you walk near the cliffs at night you feel like something's leading you to the edge." also how to skin and gut a deer but im not putting that here

🦌letheliketheriver Follow i think youre actually the weird one hope. this is all very normal

☄tapedtogetherhope Follow I GUARANTEE YOU IT IS NOT.

21,079 notes

#nocspeaks #jrwi #jrwi prime defenders #fake dashboard #fake post #fake social media #jrwi pd #jrwi tidalwave #william wisp #dakota cole #vyncent sol #deadwood #ashe winters #jrwi lightspeed

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 3 months

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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 5

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 6164 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

The next day, Dick wandered about the palace in search of anything to pass the time. He initially thought he could sleep out the rest of his day in the infirmary - gods knew he was going to need all the energy he could get for his journey home - but found himself instead pondering a certain warrior princess a little too much for his liking.

So here he was, wandering aimlessly looking for something, anything, to occupy his mind. But even so, Y/N's hard stare couldn't be shook from his mind.

Dick groaned, stopping to lean up against a pillar in frustration, figuring his wandering was not helping him. What's her deal? he thought, rubbing his temples in an attempt to be rid of his bothering thoughts. He was to leave at sundown, and probably never return to Themyscira again.

I know who I am, and I know my place is here, with people who actually care about me.

She'd said it with such fierceness, such ire. As if he could never understand her pain.

This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be on a boat headed back to Gotham City... and out of my life. For good.

Does she really want that? He pondered the question over as he walked to the window opposite him. It was more like an opening framed by marble pillars and fenced by an edge. He leaned against edge and looked over it.

He had to admit, it was a beautiful place. Isolated but untouched by Man's destructive hand. Dick couldn't believe such a place existed. All he'd known all his life was destruction and pain and loss. The Death he knew didn't discriminate, though sometimes Dick was sure Death favoured the sinners, taking any saint it could get its cruel hands on.

Like Jason. Like Tula. Like Wally.

Dick's attention was caught by the open field just a little way from the palace grounds, heading towards some higher mountains. It was the same field he was brought to when he first got to Themyscira. The same field that Y/N knocked him royally unconscious with one blow.

The clanging of steel echoed up to the palace, and Dick's eagle-eyed gaze latched onto a familiar h/c haired girl as she fought against five other warriors. She looked just like them - wearing the same uniform, wielding the same swords - and yet, she wasn't one of them. She was above them, meant for more - just like Kaldur, M'gann, and Connor had told her.

This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be... out of my life. For good.

Not if I can help it, he thought, racing through the palace halls, down several flights of stairs, and into the streets of Themyscira. If that is what Y/N truly believed - if that is what she wanted - then she would have to prove it to him.

~~~

Y/N jumped back as Calliope slashed her sword at Y/N's neck, then quickly leaped forwards again and slamming her shield into the warrior. Calliope stumbled back, but regained her footing easily.

'You have gotten better, my Princess,' she said, an evil glint in her deep brown eyes. 'But you still have much to learn.'

Y/N barely had time to duck as Calliope sprang forward, sword slashing across Y/N's body swift as the wind. Y/N rolled away as Calliope slashed at her again, slamming her sword into the grass beneath.

Y/N quickly sprung to her feet, then lunged at Calliope's side, tackling her and sending the two of them into a messy wrestling match, both their swords forgotten.

Despite initiating the struggle, Calliope managed to get on top of Y/N, straddling her waist and pinning her arms above her head. 'See, Princess?' Calliope gloated, a smug smile on her lips. 'Still so much to learn.'

'Yeah?' Y/N asked. 'Well, I guess the same goes for you.'

Calliope tilted her head in confusion, but Y/N answered by flipping Calliope over her head in one swift motion. Calliope landed on her back with a loud exhale of air, but Y/N was already straddling Calliope, pinning both Calliope's arms above her head in one hand while Y/N pulled out a hidden dagger from underneath her skirt and held it to Calliope's neck.

Y/N flashed Calliope a wicked smile. 'Lesson number one: never ever count me out.'

Calliope struggled for a moment before relinquishing the fight. 'Fine, Princess. I yield,' she said, offering a defeated smile.

Y/N jumped to her feet and offered her hand out to Calliope, to which the warrior took. 'I yield, today, Princess,' Calliope said. 'But I promise next time will not end the same.'

Y/N laugh jovially. 'I look forward to the challenge, Calliope.'

A round of applause resounded through the field, drawing Y/N's attention back to the crowd that had gathered around her and Calliope. She'd started off fighting five warriors, but they'd slowly dwindled down to just Calliope, the rest now clapping with other onlookers who had paused their training to witness the spectacle.

'That was most impressive, Princess,' one of the original five said as Y/N and Calliope rejoined them and the crowd slowly dispersed. 'You are turning into a fine warrior.'

'Thank you,' Y/N said with a gracious nod. 'But Calliope is right. I still have much to learn if I am to be your champion, or my mother's successor.'

'You are too hard on yourself, Princess,' Calliope said, resting a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulders. 'The last six months, you have grown in leaps and bounds, becoming stronger than all of us - though I hate to admit it. You are more than worthy to be our champion, and to carry on your mother's legacy.'

Y/N's heart fluttered with hope at the sound of those words. Did they really think so? That she was worthy?

But just as swiftly the hope came, it fluttered just as quickly away as Y/N shook her head. 'Worthy is not the same as ready,' Y/N argued, though she offered a grateful smile. 'But I am sure with more time, that will be the case someday.'

Calliope smiled encouragingly back at her. 'Well, until then, I guess we'll just have to try and beat you.' Calliope's hand that gripped Y/N's shoulder slid down to her wrist and lifted her hand high above. 'Who will it be, then? Who dares to challenge our champion, Princess Y/N of Themyscira?'

It was a joke of a declaration to which the remaining warriors laughed or dismissed the challenge entirely. But one voice emerged strong from the crowd.

'I will.'

The five warriors surrounding Y/N split so they could see Dick Grayson standing alone, staring intently at Y/N. He wore just his civvies still, but the intensity in his bright blue eyes told Y/N that he was being dead serious.

Calliope scoffed with amusement beside her. 'Run along, foreigner,' she called out in English so he could understand. 'Or do you want to be embarrassed?'

The other women laughed, but Dick called out, 'No. I came here to fight Y/N. I've fought her plenty of times before. I even managed to beat her every now and again. Haven't I, Y/N?'

Y/N didn't like how casual he was being about this, and what he was implying. Calliope and the other warriors looked to one another with confusion and shock. Not that Y/N ever boasted invulnerability, but she was one of that strongest among her peers. To hear that a man - a mortal man, at that - had bested her was news to them.

'I thought I told you to stay in the infirmary,' Y/N said, silencing the murmurs around her.

Dick just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the field. 'You did, but I got bored, and I figured there are many more interesting and lovely things to see outside.'

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Still the same ignorant boy.'

'Still the same stubborn girl,' Dick countered, setting Y/N's cheeks ablaze with his quick wit.

'What do you want, Nightwing?' Y/N said. She was growing tired and irritated with every second she looked at him.

Y/N didn't miss the slight scrunch of his eyebrows at the mention of his vigilante name - how, just for a moment, his carefree facade cracked - but he answered as if unbothered. 'I just want to talk, Y/N. But if the only way to do that is to fight you, then so be it.'

Dick took a few quick steps up to Y/N so that he slightly towered over her. He'd been tall when she last saw him, but he had grown once more and not just in height. His broad shoulders and chest made him seem gargantuan compared to two years ago.

But Dick isn't the only one who's grown up.

'So, what do you say, Y/N?' he asked, his breath dancing gently across Y/N's face. 'For old times' sake?'

Y/N looked up at him, trying to ignore the intense pounding of her heart against her ribcage. His eyes were irritatingly piercing as they had always been. One look into them and he'd always been able to get her to do exactly what he wanted.

He was goading her, she knew that. Backing her into a corner she couldn't get out of even if she tried. She could deny him, but make a fool of herself in front of her people. Or she could fight him, and risk losing her dignity and pride to him if he won.

Not an option.

'Fine,' she said, stepping away to catch her breath and settle her mind. As she did, she swore she saw him lean after her. 'If you won't go back to the infirmary willingly, I'll put you back in there myself. Just like I did the first time around.'

Y/N didn't wait for a witty remark from Dick, already turning and walking into the open field to reclaim her sword she'd discarded in her fight with Calliope. She picked up Calliope's sword too, and threw it to Dick, who clumsily caught it.

'Uh... I was thinking more of hand-to-hand combat,' Dick said, looking at the sword worriedly.

'Ah uh,' Y/N chastised. 'You challenge me to a duel, we fight under my terms.' Y/N held out her sword, the sharp point of it poised towards Dick. 'Now, raise your sword, Nightwing. And come meet your fate.'

Dick looked like he wanted to say something stupid, perhaps a joke, but Y/N glared a silent threat at him and he wisely closed his mouth. He walked to where Y/N stood, and raised his sword to meet hers. Y/N never took her eyes off him, determined fire coursing through her every fibre. You will not win, Dick Grayson. You will not win.

Calliope came to stand between the two. She was to act as their referee, it seemed. She raised her hands, looked between the two. 'Ready... And fight!'

Calliope leaped out of ranged, and before Dick could react, Y/N knocked his sword out of her way and charged at him. Lucky for him and his acrobatic past, he easily dodged her charge. But she expected that.

She swung her sword down in an overhead arc but was met with Dick's sword, the clashing of steel echoing throughout the field. She swung again, he blocked. Swing, block. Swing, block.

Y/N growled in frustration. He knew her too well. Even after two years, he still anticipated the same moves.

They clashed swords again, this time holding and pressing against one another to see who would fall first. 'Fight me properly, damnit,' Y/N groaned out.

'Not until you stop calling me Nightwing,' he answered, and to Y/N's satisfaction he sounded hard of breath.

'Is that what all this is about?' Y/N asked, slightly bewildered. 'Why you wanted to fight? You're lucky that is the only thing I call you.'

Y/N stepped aside of the fight, letting Dick's momentum force him forward. Y/N stepped behind him and kicked him hard in the back, sending him flying forwards a few metres. Dick hit the ground hard, and for a moment Y/N worried if he had broken something. She'd forgotten her strength wasn't like mortals. But that worry disappeared when Dick picked himself up with barely a wince.

Dick ran at her and she braced for the slash, but instead leaped over her and swept her legs out from under her feet. Just as he went to pin her down though, she punched him in the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards and giving her enough time to stand up.

'Damn,' Dick said, rubbing his jaw with an amused smile, 'I almost forgot that you can pack a punch.'

'Stop wasting my time!' Y/N was beyond irritated now, rushing at Dick and making slice after slice at him. Again, his agility and nimbleness kept just a hair's breadth from the tip of her sword, which only irritated her more.

'Then tell me why!' Dick yelled back, ducking under another swipe of Y/N's sword. 'Why do you refuse to call me by my name, Y/N?'

Y/N was surprised by his sudden aggression. In all the time she'd known him, he'd never really lost his cool unless it was at Bruce because he wouldn't let Dick come on a mission, or go to the movies as a child.

Her surprise cost her, as Dick knocked her sword from her hand, twisted her around so her back pressed against his chest, and pinned her against him with an arm around her waist and his sword against her neck. 'Come on, Y/N,' he said softly so no one else could hear. 'You're my best friend. What happened?'

Y/N couldn't believe it. He truly didn't know? His question was sincere, which made it all the more worse. How could he not know that he was the cause of all of this?

Y/N saw red then, that determined fire in her burning hotter and fiercer. With all her strength, she heaved Dick over the top of her, effectively throwing him a good two metres away and cracking the earth with the impact.

She ran for her sword, and by the time he was on his feet, she was on swinging at him fervently, relentlessly, mercilessly.

'You left, that's what!' she cried, slicing at him without a single thought of the next move. All she knew is that if she let up now, she would lose. 'You left, and you didn't even care!'

'Y/N, listen, I-'

'Shut up!' she said, kicking him in the stomach and sending him to the floor. He raised his sword just in time as she brought hers down upon him. 'You don't have the right to come here and tell me what to do. Not when you didn't contact us even once, knowing we needed you!'

Dick rolled out from beneath Y/N, sending her stumbling forward as he got on his feet. But Y/N just swung with a cry, the clashing of their swords almost deafening as she swung at Dick again and again and again.

Dick grunted as he fended off every attack, not even bothering to try and return the favour, but merely hold his line. His defensive strategy just made Y/N even more mad. Was she not a worthy opponent? Had she ever been worthy to him?

'I said I'm sorry,' he said between laboured breaths. 'I realise now that leaving wasn't the best way to cope with Wally's death, but-'

'But nothing!' Y/N swung her sword so hard against Dick's that she knocked it out of his hands. He looked after his weapon in shock but Y/N was already punching him so hard in the stomach that he flew high in the air for a moment before crash-landing, cracking the earth he laid on.

As Dick groaned with pain, Y/N walked on over and pressed a foot hard against his chest, preventing him from getting back up. She pointed her sword at his throat, forcing him to look up at her with those piercing blue eyes that looked at her like she was unrecognisable.

Good.

'But. Nothing,' she said softly this time, coldly. There was so much more she wanted to tell him, to shout and yell and scream in his stupidly beautiful face to make him understand. But no clear enough words came to mind, so she stepped off Dick and retracted her sword.

She turned to see a larger crowd of warriors had congregated to watch the fight. And although she had won, Y/N didn't feel overly victorious. Some of the warriors were smiling and cheering, but Y/N spotted Calliope in the front, eyeing her Princess with curiosity and worry.

Her deep brown eyes asked a silent question: are you okay?

Y/N nodded upwards in a dismissive manner, as if to say: we will discuss this later.

Calliope nodded in understanding, and that was the end of the conversation.

'We're done here,' Y/N said for all to hear as she made to head back to the crowd.

'Wait, Y/N,' Dick grunted out as he pushed himself to his feet, holding his ribs that were no doubt bruised if not cracked.

Y/N stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, stone cold expression on her face. 'That's Wonderess to you, Nightwing. I suggest you head back to the infirmary like I told you to before and rest up. You've got a long voyage ahead of you tonight.'

'But-'

'Goodbye, Nightwing.'

Y/N didn't wait for his reaction as she turned to rejoin her fellow warriors. Internally, she just wanted to be alone, but the women looked up to her, respected her. They would want to congratulate their princess on her victory.

So that is who she became once more, the smiling and proud warrior princess she had forced herself to become in order to block out her former weaknesses.

In order to block out him, who she spotted in the corner of her eye being aided by two women in blue nurse robes. And as much as she tried to block him out, a pinprick of guilt punctured her heart as she watched him be taken down the stairs and back to the palace.

'Congratulations, Princess,' Calliope said softly, drawing Y/N's attention back to the present. 'That was... a brutal fight.'

Y/N stood up straighter, shook herself slightly to get back into character. 'Nothing I couldn't handle. He is but a mere mortal after all.'

'I wasn't talking about the physicality of the battle, Princess,' Calliope said with a knowing tone.

Y/N's facade cracked slightly as Calliope gave her a knowing look. Calliope was more perceptive than Y/N gave her credit for.

She quickly regained her composure and flashed Calliope an easy smile as she patted her on the shoulder. 'Well, just as well we are not only warriors in strength, but of the mind, too. Like the great Athena herself.'

Before Calliope could stop her, Y/N strode past her and down the stairs. She wasn't heading for the palace or the markets or anywhere really. She just needed to be alone.

Y/N didn't stop walking until her feet hit the waves of the ocean lapping at the white sand of Themyscira's shore. She'd be back down here at nightfall. It will be the last time I see him, she realised, and despite her anger and her hurt, tears sprung to her eyes at the thought.

You're my best friend. Always have been...

Always will be.

And right there, alone on the beach, Y/N allowed herself to cry her heart out. In anger, in hurt, and all for a love that refused to let her go. It was so cruel of him, of the universe, to seek her out just when she thought she'd found a new home.

But as Y/N cried and her tears joined the ocean lapping at her feet, she found she had never felt more alone.

~~~

Dick's hands weren't shackled, but as the entourage of guards escorted him from all sides down the long staircase from the palace to the docks, he'd never felt more imprisoned.

Only a small party of people had come to send him off. The sunset was approaching dusk, so Dick figured most of the women would be preparing or sharing a meal together already. Queen Hippolyta stood by the small boat at the end of the dock with another squad of guards.

To Dick's surprise, Y/N stood beside her grandmother, but she didn't look too happy. In fact, she wasn't showing any emotion, just was staring ahead of her as if in a trance.

Or she's just trying to ignore me. All afternoon and throughout dinner all Dick could envision were Y/N's pain-filled eyes as they'd sparred. She was normally so calculative, calm, composed when she fought, always trying to de-escalate a situation even with the villains back home.

But she'd fought like a cornered animal, where her only way out had been to fight. Lashing out wildly, dangerously, carelessly. And at the end, when she'd stood above him with that cold expression, he realised it was all because of him.

He'd done this to her, pushed her away, ignored her, discarded her as if she hadn't been grieving too. He'd been so naive to think she'd always be there for him, that she'd be waiting for him after all that time, not when he hadn't spared hers or any of the teams' feelings a single thought after he left.

But he'd seen her smiling with Calliope and the other women, the way she used to with him and Kaldur and M'gann and Connor and Wally. They used to be a family, but he'd single-handedly destroyed that.

But Y/N had found a new one. All on her own. So what right did he have to tell her she had to leave when she'd finally found happiness again?

Dick couldn't even answer that himself, but the guilt that weighed him down was answer enough.

The guards surrounding him walked him to the end of the pier and then dispersed as they approached their queen, fanning out to stand behind him. Dick spared a glance to Y/N but she just looked straight ahead, not even acknowledging his presence.

'Well, it is time to bid you farewell, Nightwing,' Queen Hippolyta said, motioning to the sailboat to her right. 'This vessel has all you need for your journey home. There are maps and a compass for you to use, and we have packed some fruit and bread for sustenance.'

Dick nodded his head in gratitude. 'Thank you, Your Majesty,' he said sincerely. 'You have been a most generous and understanding host.'

'I am sorry we couldn't help you with your task,' the Queen said, then looked to Y/N knowingly. When she didn't respond, the Queen nudged her granddaughter slightly, bringing Y/N back to the moment.

'I am sorry, too,' Dick said, turning his gaze to lock with Y/N's. 'Truly.'

He wanted to say more but Y/N had made it very clear that whatever they had been two years ago, they certainly weren't that anymore. And he didn't blame her, but he needed her to know that he wished things were different.

For a brief moment, Dick thought he saw Y/N's face soften at his apology, like maybe she wished for the very same thing. But the moment - if it had happened at all - went as quickly as it came, and Y/N's face was blank once more.

Dick let out a breath of defeat, then flashed a polite smile to the Queen and the guards around him. 'Well, it's been a pleasure.'

He gave a final nod of thanks, to which the Queen reciprocated, and then he made his way to the boat. But before he jumped on, he turned around to speak directly to Y/N.

'I'll tell them all you said hi,' Dick said, a half-amused smile on his lips.

Y/N's jaw tensed then, and Dick imagined it was taking all her will not to do anything. It annoyed him slightly that she couldn't even say one word to him, not even about their friends who also missed her. But he just turned back to the boat.

But just as he went to jump aboard, the whole pier rocked, sending everyone stumbling a little.

'What was that?' the Queen asked.

Her answer came in the form of another rock of the deck, this time hitting much harder. Some women fell to the ground while others clung to each other to steady themselves.

Dick looked out at the ocean to see the once calm waters now rising and falling and swirling rapidly. It was a full moon night, but even the moon couldn't control the waves like that.

'What in the name of Tartarus is out there?'

Dick turned to find Y/N standing beside him, looking out at the mass of water swirling and surging violently. Dick retuned to the waters, and his stomach dropped at where the violent waves were headed.

'I don't know,' he said, 'but it's coming right for us!'

'Everybody, get to higher ground!' Y/N called out, then ran straight to her grandmother. Dick followed Y/N as some of the guards helped their Queen and the others scrambled up the stairs.

As they reached the base of the stairs, the boat cracked as a wave crashed over it, splintering it in seconds.

'Keep going!' Y/N cried out, pushing her grandmother higher up the stairs as the water splintered the pier and rose up the stairs.

Suddenly, out of the water surged a tentacle, striking the stairs just below Dick's feet. The marble crumbled like sand and tumbled down into the still rising water.

Another tentacle struck out, this time grabbing a hold of one of the guards and throwing her into the side of the mountain.

'Dimitra!' Calliope called out beside Dick, frozen on the steps as she looked after her fallen friend.

Dick looked up to see another tentacle emerge from the rising water and grabbed Calliope and hauled her up more stairs. 'Keep moving!'

The tentacles kept coming out of the water, slamming into the stairs, crushing or throwing any warrior they could get their slimy suckers on. All Dick was focussed on was dragging Calliope up the stairs as fast as he could until they were safe.

They reached a small landing in the stairs and finally the water stopped rising just a few steps below them, and the creature fully emerged. Seemingly hundreds of tentacles flayed around, all coming from the bulbous, slimy head of a creature Dick thought only existed in books.

'Kraken,' Queen Hippolyta said in disbelief.

'They exist?!' Dick asked, not truly believing what he was seeing.

'Of course they exist,' the Queen scolded. 'Hades created the Kraken to help defeat the Titans long ago. They are powerful but usually docile and dormant creatures.'

'Well, I'm afraid to say Your Majesty, but this one seems very much awake and destructive,' Dick said

'Duck!' Y/N cried out as a tentacle came swiping at their heads. Dick ducked with everyone else as the tentacle cut through the stairs, cutting the group off from the city above.

Another tentacle struck out towards Y/N but she sliced it with her sword, and a piercing screech echoed through the cove. No doubt the whole island heard it, and hopefully backup was on their way.

'I don't understand,' the Queen said, exasperated. 'Why is it attacking us? I didn't even know krakens lived nearby!'

'It doesn't matter why it's attacking,' Dick started. 'We've got to put it down. Any ideas?'

'Fire,' Y/N said. 'That's one of its weaknesses. We need fire.' She frantically looked around her, probably for anything flammable. But all that surrounded them was marble and the kraken.

Dick immediately started pulling off his jacket. 'Here, use this,' he said, handing it over to Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, looking at his jacket like it had the plague. Dick rolled his eyes and said, 'Come on, what else you got?'

Y/N gave him a hesitant look, but took the jacket anyways. She dropped to the ground and picked up two pieces of marble rock broken from the stairs and started clinking them together to get a spark.

Dick got distracted from her work at the sound of women's pain-filled cries. Tentacles were striking everywhere now, even the ones the women were able to sever were still attacking. The mountainside beside them crumbled more, and more warriors were being crushed or flung off the mountain.

Their party was dwindling, and fast.

Dick picked up a discarded spear and started lunging at the tentacles. 'Hurry up, Y/N!'

'I'm trying!' she called out, striking the rocks harder now. Suddenly, a spark lunged from the rocks onto the jacket, and it quickly caught fire.

'Yes!' Y/N cried, then turned to Dick with a hand held out. 'Give me the spear!'

Without hesitation, Dick threw her the spear, to which she stabbed the sharp end of the weapon into the flaming jacket, twisting it so it wrapped around the spearhead tightly. A proud smile flickered onto her lips for a moment as she looked back at Dick, and he couldn't help but smile too.

Until a tentacle wrapped around Y/N's middle and lifted her off the ground.

'No!' Dick cried as he chased after her, but she was already hundreds of metres in the air, dangling over the kraken's open mouth. Hundreds and hundreds of teeth ringed around the actual mouth, making bigger digestions easier for the creature, but Dick was almost certain it wouldn't need any of them to swallow Y/N whole.

But Y/N was unfazed as she hung over certain doom. She steadied herself, then raised the spear behind her. For Dick, time slowed down, as he was certain the kraken would drop her into its mouth at any second.

But she threw the flaming spear before it could, aiming it true straight down the kraken's throat. Instantly, the kraken's mouth caught on fire, eliciting a horrifying scream from within the flames.

All it's tentacles retracted and wriggled in pain, and the one holding Y/N flung her high in the air.

'Y/N!' Dick ran for the edge of landing as she fell hard and fast. He leaped just as she levelled with the landing, and Dick's eyes briefly met with hers, and he saw the terror she felt then.

She disappeared beyond the edge as he reached over, closing his hand in the hopes of catching her in time.

His hand closed. There was something there. Dick's heart thrummed so loud in his ears he couldn't even hear his own breathing. He laid there for a moment, holding on to something, until his heartbeat quietened.

And then he heard it. Another person breathing. And then he felt it. Skin beneath his fingertips.

He dared to look over the edge, and relief washed over him as he saw Y/N dangling from his hand, looking up at him in disbelief.

'I've got you,' he said with a shaky smile, then started pulling her up with all his might.

The remaining guards helped him too, pulling him backwards until Y/N could pull herself up onto the landing. Dick immediately went to help her to her feet. 'You okay?' he asked.

But Y/N just pushed his hands away and stood up shakily. 'I'm fine,' she said bluntly, giving him a quick side-eye that wasn't quite mad but definitely not grateful.

Annoyance riled up in him again, but now was not the time to be petty and childish. Both he and Y/N looked over the edge of landing to see the kraken limply sinking back down into the water. But the water didn't sink with it. In fact, it rose even more until it levelled with the edge of the landing, small waves gently lapping at Y/N's and Dick's feet.

Suddenly, the water started bubbling, and ghoulish green light emanated from deep under.

'Stand back everyone,' Y/N said, and they all did, weapons primed at the ready for the next monster to rise up.

But instead of a giant kraken, a human-sized figure rose up from the water. Although, as soon as they fully emerged, Dick knew the being wasn't human.

It looked like a naked woman, but she was covered in emerald green scales like those of a snake, and had such hypnotic green eyes that Dick struggled to look away from. Her hair flowed like liquid midnight down her back, contrasting the golden crown she wore. The scales that covered her arms and breasts fed down into her green serpent bottom that swivelled so as to keep her afloat.

The woman smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, eyeing everyone on the landing with a calculative stare. 'Well that wasn't a warm welcome, was it?'

Y/N grabbed a discarded sword from the ground and pointed it at her. 'Who are you? Are you the one who sent the kraken to kill us?'

'Kill you?' The woman sounded amused as her smile widened somehow. 'If I wanted to kill you Princess, I would've sent one of my stronger children to finish you off. No, the killing will come later, I'm afraid.'

'Children?' Dick asked, but it was the Queen who answered.

'It cannot be,' Queen Hippolyta said breathlessly, horror contorting her face as she gazed at the woman in the water. 'In all my years...'

'Who is she, grandmother?' Y/N asked.

The Queen swallowed thickly before answering. 'That is Echidna, Mother of Monsters.'

'Monsters is such a cruel name for children,' Echidna countered. 'But then again, I guess they can be... destructive.'

'We are not afraid of you, Echidna,' the Queen asked, stepping forward. 'We are daughters of Artemis, with the spirit of Athena, and the blessing of Hera. Begone before we make you regret it.'

While the Queen was an intimidating woman, her threat fell flat on Echidna, who simply laughed.

'My, I must admit you are humorous, Your Majesty,' Echidna said mockingly. 'But even with all your blessings, you still wouldn't be able to defeat me.'

'So you are here to kill us,' Y/N said, pointing the sword accusingly at Echidna. 'Why?'

'Patience, Princess,' Echidna said cooly, slithering across the water towards where the landing met the water. 'My kraken was just a warning.'

'Warning? For what?' Dick asked, and he immediately regretted it because Echidna turned her gaze on him and gave him a sinister smile that sent shivers down his spine.

'That war is coming,' Echidna said, slithering towards where he stood near the edge. 'My children haven't feasted on the flesh of humans in a long, long time. Although, you're handsome to look at. Perhaps I will spare you from the slaughter.'

Before she could lean in closer to Dick, Y/N stuck her sword between them and pushed Echidna away and stepped in front of Dick. 'Enough games,' she said. 'Why are you doing this. The Amazons have lived peacefully for centuries. What did they ever do to you to warrant war?'

For the first time that night, Echidna's smile disappeared, and the cold, cruel expression that replaced it aged her by a hundred years or so. 'For centuries, my children have been hunted and killed for sport and glory by those you admire. And while, yes, the Amazons have never harmed me personally, they are the product of all the gods' love and what is good with the world.

'My children are products of gods, too, yet they are hunted and killed, while the Amazons - who are just as powerful and destructive as my babies - are praised and adored. And so for that - for Zeus and Hera and all the gods killing my children - I will kill theirs.'

Echidna's tail rose up to brush Y/N's from her face, that cruel smile returning. 'You have three days to prepare, and then I will rain terror down upon Themyscira like you've never seen before. Terror, that will make you wish you were dead afterwards.'

To Y/N's credit, she didn't flinch as Echidna leaned in closer again until practically their foreheads were touching. 'Three days, Princess. And then you're done.'

'Three days, and your head will be on my spear,' Y/N spat back, gaze never faltering as she held Echidna's.

Echidna's chuckle unsettled Dick as she slithered away and sunk back into the water. As she did, the water slowly sunk back down to the normal height, revealing the broken boat and pier but no signs of the dead kraken or Echidna.

Everyone was silent, unsure what to say after the terrifying encounter. Until Dick couldn't handle the silence any longer.

'All right,' he started, turning to Y/N and the Queen. 'What do we do now.'

'The only thing we can do,' the Queen said solemnly as she stared down at the ocean. 'Prepare for war.'

'And pray,' Y/N said, following her grandmother's gaze. 'We're going to need to.'

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

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www-jungwon · 10 months

Text

in which jake has no idea what to get his little sister ( he left it last minute ) and you're the sephora worker who got stuck with the last shift before the holidays ୨୧

tw. swearing, stranger!jake has a younger sister au, christmas mentions, yn is sooo embarrasing wc. 958

out of all the ways you’d planned to spend your friday evening before the holidays, working was not one of them. but eunchae had begged you to cover for her, and she covered your shift before thanksgiving.

you glance at your watch. only 30 minutes before closing, which means you should be able to just scroll on your phone in the back. no customers ever come in–

the click of the glass door interrupts your relief.

your first thought, of course, is fuck. who goes to a sephora 30 minutes before it closes? do they have any human decency? and your second thought is, fuck.

the guy who walks into the store looks to be in his 20s, with soft brown hair that frames his face, adorable eyes, and pink pouty lips.

he looks around, sweeping his hand through his hair–his hand is so hot–before his eyes land on you.

you’re too busy contemplating whether or not you just felt attraction to a stranger’s hand to answer him the first time, only snapping out of your thoughts when he walks closer.

“oh, um, sorry, welcome to sephora, what- i was- your hand- i mean, what were you saying?”

his eyebrows cinch briefly in confusion, but he shakes it off (thank god), “hi.” he has the most attractive australian accent you’ve ever heard. “um, i was, like, wondering if you could recommend me a gift for my little sister? i- well,” he laughs sheepishly, and you almost fall onto the ground, “i haven’t gotten her a gift yet,”

“oh! um,” you pause, still trying to focus, but he must take your silence as a bad thing.

“yeah, i feel awful, but i’m just really busy- you must think i’m a horrible brother, i mean- sorry, you don’t care.”

“no, nonono, i do c- i mean, um, yeah, i can- uh, help you..find..a gift.” your voice trails off into silence at the end of your sentence.

he either doesn’t notice the weirdness or chooses to ignore it, his eyes lighting up. “that’s so great! thank you, so much.”

“ok, um,” you start trying to think of a gift for his younger sister and then realize you’re an idiot. “oh, i kind of- uh, sorry, how old is she?” it took you 20 seconds to ask how old the person you’re recommending a gift for is.

“oh!” he laughs, “sorry,”

“no problem,” you’ve never answered anyone so fast in your entire life.

“she’s 16.”

you blink, because that seems really young for how he looks and is he younger than 20 what the fuck, but then he sees your expression.

“5 years apart.”

“oh, no, i didn’t- you didn’t have to- sorry, um, what kinds of things are you looking for, for her? like, makeup, or perfume, or ma- something else?” you literally almost said makeup twice.

“um,” he laughs, “i’m not really sure. i just know that whenever she comes back from the mall she has a sephora bag every time, so i came here in a panic.”

“ok, well is there anything specific you’d like to get her?”

he hesitates again, “sorry…is there anything you’d, like, recommend? what you’re wearing is kind of pretty- i mean, sorry, i didn’t- mean to say that-”

you breathe out a shocked laugh. “well, i’m not sure if a 16 year old would like any of the things i’m wearing, but maybe the glitter eyeshadow, or, like, the lip gloss.”

“um,” he trails off, “sure.”

“ok! do you want to come look at them, or should i just get the same ones?” your only reflex now is to ramble, in fear of him realizing how flustered he’s made you (although you’re sure he already has).

“just the same ones is fine,”

“ok, wait right here then.”

your heart is beating out of your chest as you grab the items, he called you pretty–him, the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your life–well, technically he called what you’re wearing pretty, and he only said ‘kind of,’ and you should really calm down. except your heart doesn’t seem to agree.

you arrive back at the desk, pulling a sephora bag from underneath the counter.

“oh, sorry, do you want me to wrap this for you?”

“no, that’s fine, i usually wrap things myself, like, as a tradit-i mean, sorry, you don’t care.” that’s the cutest thing ever.

he laughs, “really?”

you almost trip over the desk because there’s no fucking way you just said that out loud.

“um,” you look away, the pitch of your voice raising, “your total is 2700 dollars.”

he blinks. “two- two thousand-”

“i mean! i’m so sorry, i meant, 27 dollars…and 95 cents…” you turn away in embarrassment, and he laughs.

his laugh. his laugh is the prettiest sound, lighting up your heart even though you’re so ashamed you can’t even look over.

“sorry, i’m not- i’m not laughing at you.”

you turn back to glare at him. “yes you are.”

he grins, and you almost fall backwards again at how pretty he is.

he pulls out his wallet, and is that a black card?

“ok,” you hand him the bag, “thanks for shopping with sephora, and i hope you enjoy your holidays.”

he grabs the handle, his fingertips brushing your wrist, and you drop the bag, his hand jerking to catch it.

“s-sorry.”

“no problem,” he looks at your nametag, “y/n.”

he looks back up at you, grinning, “my sister will love these.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i’ll tell her all about the pretty girl who chose them for me, who thinks i’m cute.”

you glitch, you actually glitch for a second, can’t move or think or anything, and then he’s gone, the door shutting.

your phone chimes with a text from eunchae.

thanks sosososso much for covering my shift im rlly sry, merry christmas

merry fucking christmas indeed.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

part of winters of us, an advent calendar : day 006

comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist !

enhypen tl @cutesiepatootsie @sammm5225

#❄️ — winters of us.#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #jake x reader #jake x you #jake sim #jake imagines #enhypen jake #jake sim x you #jake sim fluff #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #jake fluff #sim jake x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff

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koishiro · 10 months

Note

Hi! For your JJK fluff event, could I request dialogue prompt number 5 & number 15 for Megumi Fushiguro?

♡ - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : (dp 5) “apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together” + (dp 15) “I’ve loved you for years”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂/𝐖 : f!reader, third person at times, short lil thing

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : sorry this took so long but this is probably my favourite concept lol like everything you listed!!

prompt list | event masterlist | upcoming anon asks | masterlist

Looking at one of jujutsu tech’s most powerful sorcerers, we often forget that he’s just a boy. Specifically, a young 15 year old who’s seen more in his life than any one of us will see in our lifetime.

Yet here he stands in the hallways of his school surrounded by the hushed whispers of his classmates bouncing from the corridors walls. It’s a regular occurrence, always revolving around some poor soul and often not having a clue either.

So it doesn’t exactly faze Megumi to hear the quick spread of whispers and passing of phone screens as their eyes dodge around the school’s hallways nor does he even notice.

But he couldn’t care less, not when the sight of you barrelling your way through the sea of faces knocking past idle students with your bag almost twice the size of your own body consumed his thoughts. The way you looked so pretty in the obligatory navy uniform, your hair pulled back by the usual Sanrio clips you insisted on always wearing and that pretty white smile you threw his way that always made his heart pick up.

His stern frown and eagle eyes weaken the tiniest bit, even his crossed arms loosen as he takes in the sight of his best friend, nearly cracking a small smile at your futile attempt of slowing to a stop - nearly knocking other students down with you.

“Megs!” Just his name slipping from your mouth caused his heart to pick up pace.

As soon as you made it within a few feet of him you practically dived into arms, Megumi already prepared with his arms held out after years of this almost daily “tradition”.

“I missed you!” Megumi could’ve sworn his face was red by the sheer burning sensation running through his cheeks when you tilted your head to look up at him, “I saw you not even two days ago?”

You almost shy away from the stare of Megumi. So much so nobody would think you’ve been friends for almost six years now. You send him the tiniest toothy smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a flick of your head not wanting to release your hold on him.

Megumi’s left cheek quirks up in a smile, nearly going unnoticed if it weren’t for the entanglement of limbs you both had wrapped around the other.

It seems cliche to explain it as them both being in their own world but they both interacted like they were. A bubble circled around them, an impenetrable one that only onlookers can look into.

Which is exactly where Nobara and Yuji found themselves, staring from the sidelines clearly unnoticed by the two, too immersed in the conversation - or teasing was more appropriate.

Y/n rests her chin on Megumi’s chest, looking up at him as he continues his teasing. She lifts a hand to brush the insistent stray hair from her cheek before he quickly snatches up to hold whilst he fiddles with the fabric of her uniform with the other.

He leans to mumble something to her, easily making y/n laugh light and bubbly, eyes crinkled at the corners. Then she turns, body pressed closer to his, lips to his ear to whisper something back. Megumi’s laugh comes out as a small rumble, his eyes a brighter viridescent.

“Do you think…?” Yuji’s voice cuts through the scene playing out in front of them, causing Nobara to flick her eyes back and forth from the pair to her friend.

The idea isn’t exactly far-fetched, it kind of made sense actually. The way Megumi was always stiff and cold until you bounce into the room and his posture would completely relax, or the way he holds his drink as far away from anyone as possible to avoid sharing the same straw and “cross contamination” as he put it but if you asked? He wouldn’t even blink twice.

Just simply the way you held each other in the halls was enough to start the clogs turning in everyone’s heads.

It’s not impossible right?

“How much you putting down?”

The quiet rushed whispers of the first and second years were being passed back and forth. The five students all huddled around the pink haired boy’s desk in back corner of the dimly lit classroom.

The energetic panda replied without hesitation, almost as if he had been waiting for that very question all day. “1,800 yen and a pack of kataage!" Everyone in the room stared at the towering figure of a six-foot seven panda bear with a near copy of a deadpan face.

“What are you guys doing?”

The black haired boy stood with his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he faced the other students with a confused expression adorning his face.

He was tall, with a shock of inky black hair falling haphazardly across his forehead, and pale skin that seemed luminescent against the darkness of his locks. His expression betrayed confusion but also determination as he stood before a sea of students; his hands stuffed deep into pockets creating an atmosphere suggesting social unease. Even so, there was comfort in the familiar pensive pose which only served to add further dimensions to the picture this young man presented - strength inside uncertainty.

The cracking of everyone’s necks could almost be heard in the silence of the room as they whip their heads towards the intrusive voice.

“Ah - Megumi, what are you doing here?” Yuji held a tight lipped smile, eyes wide in faux ease, trying to take attention away from the small pile of trinkets and yen splayed out on his desk only hidden by the backs of Maki and Toge.

“It��s a classroom? One we’ll be using in five minutes? You didn’t hear the bell?”

Megumi’s voice was laced with confusion with a hint of his usual sarcasm as he slugged his way towards his chair, the strap of his bag slowly slipping down his shoulder by the time he reached the old desk.

Reaching into his bag to retrieve his headphones to listen the voice message you sent not even two minutes ago he stopped midway slouched over his bag and slowly turned his head towards the multiple pair of eyes burning holes to the side of his head before they hurriedly averted their eyes elsewhere, finding the walls conveniently interesting.

It became a routine at this point. A low buzz began to float through the halls, a sea of whispers bubbled and eddied around him, their hushed voices buzzing in his ears like bees. At first it didn't bother Megumi much; he was used to the odd antics of his classmates but as time went on, the murmuring only got louder and more frequent until they followed him everywhere he went: an ever-present reminder of whatever strange thing people were saying about him behind his back.

The whispers seemed to follow him, during lunch as he sat opposite you while you rambled on about your day while the constant buzzing and passing of whispers caused his eyes to train around the cafeteria, or even as he leaned against your locker waiting for your class to finish only to feel the burning stares of passer-bys.

“What’s wrong?” Drawing his head back towards your voice Megumi noticed the worried look you held, “Hm? ‘m fine”

You however didn’t seem too convinced at your friend’s answer, “You sure? You seem a little spaced out?”

“Yeah jus’, have you noticed the weird stares we’re getting?” Megumi’s eyes flitted over the halls as he said this, suddenly conscious of the other bodies in the long corridor.

Megumi watched as you scrunched your eyebrows in thought and darted your own eyes across the stretch of land before they landed back on him.

“Aren’t they always like that?” You had a point, there was always something happening in Jujutsu High whether it be a bad breakup or a rumour of someone having a crush on another.

But Megumi unsurprisingly liked to fly under the radar, not caring for silly rumours and gossip or whatever they heard down the grapevine.

If he was honest Megumi never really noticed it before, always too absorbed in your own antics. Too focused on you.

Even now as he slugged his way towards the joint kitchen, thinking about the way you looked so cute earlier that day under the mountain of layered scarfs and jackets you had on, along with the small swipe of red across your nose brought on by the chilling temperatures outside.

Barely even passing over the threshold, he heard the familiar high pitched laugh of his best friend.

“There’s absolutely no way! I have this in the bag!” Peaking his head round the corner, he caught sight of the mop of pink hair shaking his head adamantly.

“You sure about that? Have you seen the way those two look at each other?” Nobara practically launched herself across the coffee table, slamming down the amount of yen she found suitable while the others watched on in silence.

“A week max!” He heard the overenthuastic ginger continue, he could already imagine her leaning back, arms crossed and a smug smile planted on her face.

Megumi felt a twitch at the back of his mind as he reached outwards with invisible force from within the shadows of safety and dipped his feet into this unfamiliar environment. He poked his head round the corner of the open arched doorway, quickly identifying the two figures surrounded by the second years.

Yuji shifted in his spot, seemingly unsure of Nobara’s confident words. “How do you know? It could take up to a month for all we know”

“You heard Nobara right? Just standing in the same room as those two is enough to make you feel like a third wheel” quickly followed Maki’s voice before placing her bet at the centre of the table where everyone collectively placed their own.

They were betting? On him? On you?

“How do you know they’re not already dating huh? I mean, we never actually asked right? And they seem pretty close” Panda’s words caused a beat of silence to travel around the group, quick glances and shared thoughts passed round like a game of Chinese whispers.

“Okay new bet, place your money down now if you think Megumi and Y/n are already smackin’!”

Megumi’s eyes practically popped out at this, quickly diving back into the cover of shadows where he attempted to calm down his racing heart by clutching onto his shirt with great strength.

They thought you were dating? Were you really that close to give the impression of being together?

The never ending thoughts seemed to plague Megumi’s mind for the next week, his body unconsciously aware of every passing move you made and his ears automatically tuned in to every breath you let escape.

Now acutely aware of the inescapable eyes from idle onlookers, Megumi seemed hyper-fixated on every detail and move you made. The way your eyes would double in size at the mere mention of your favourite show or the happy dance you never failed to do as soon as the tangy taste of orange slices he specifically cut for you hit your tongue or even the way that said orange burst in your mouth and dripped down the plush skin of your lips as if waiting for an unsuspecting ki-

“-gumi!” The sweet sound emanating from the girl he sat opposite to came as a shock to his system, not realising his mind slipped away as his attention focused in on the concerned expression you held.

“You’re doing it again” he almost wanted to laugh at the small pout you gave him, clearly not happy at having to stop midway from explaining your new weekly fixation to him.

“Sorry, ‘m just a lil’ distracted is all” he grumbled out in his usual less energetic voice. But this didn’t deter you, it would a lot more than that to brush you off, he should know after-all.

Titling your head to the side, a confused expression adorning your face, you didn’t even seem to think twice before asking, “distracted? Why, what’s wrong?”

Your questioning made the poor boy stumble, not quite sure what or how to answer without coming off like a fool, so he tried the subtle approach.

“You haven’t noticed the stares?” He barely mumbled out as he let his eyes wander the large open space of the cafeteria.

“I’ve never seen you so concerned before” gravitating his eyes back to you once more, he witnessed an emotion he never thought he’d see adorn your usual jovial face - hurt. “This is the second time you’re bringing this up, why does it matter if they’re staring, so what? What difference does it make?”

The usually unbothered Megumi wasn’t so unbothered after seeing your heart snap from behind the glass shield of your eyes.

Quickly leaning across the table to grab ahold of the end of your sleeve, he fidgeted with the soft material as he thought over his words, “I didn’t mean it like that - ‘m sorry. I just meant - if you heard about what people are saying is all”

This didn’t seem to comfort you much though, even with the unwavering grip of his fiddling with the ends of your cuffs. “What d’you mean? I haven’t heard anything?”

Usually it was you who came running to him with news on the latest ‘gossip’ yet it completely flew over your head this time, missing it by a long shot.

“Do you like me?”

Blinking once, then twice, you took a minute to register to what your best friend had just told you.

It took a minute of buffering to finally register what you were just told, “sorry?”

“apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together” Megumi was now fiddling with his fingers, finding the fabric of his uniform conveniently interesting.

You now found yourself nervously fiddling with your fingers, eyes bouncing back and forth from your best friend to the walls of the cafeteria, “Well…I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, right?”

Now this, this caught Megumi off guard. Of course he thought about the idea, the possibility before but never did he think the opportunity would actually introduce itself.

The silence that followed caused your nervous smile to sink, forcing Megumi to splutter out anything that came to mind.

“N - no, that’s not what I meant! - I’d go out with you anytime!” Once again, silence followed suit - except this time both your eyes were blown wide, not too sure where to go from here.

Until a sudden muffled giggle broke the silence, bubbling from none other than you, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t laugh, but now Yuji owes me ¥2,000”

Bewildered, Megumi couldn’t fathom any words but his scrunched up eyebrows must’ve said enough going by your quick explanation.

“I couldn’t help but take part in the bet, it was too hard to resist, I had a feeling you liked me and thought this would be a good opportunity to do something about it” you chuckled out before leaning forward on your elbows, “I like you too by the way, and I’d go out with you anytime as well”

As soon as his confused expression came, it went - replaced by a small tug at the corner of his lips and followed by a fast approaching blush.

Letting a scoff escape, it was your turn to hold a confused look. Returning his attention back to you Megumi went on explain - a small smile slowly taking over, “it’s just crazy to think, I’ve loved you for god-knows how long - years maybe. And now you’re sitting in front of me and saying you like me . Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

At first, Megumi wanted to strangle Yuji with his own two hands, although now - thinking about it, he should really thank his friend for the outcome.

Not too far away, amongst the line of hungry peers queuing for their food was the less than enthusiastic teacher trailed by the ever so nosy white haired Sorcerer peaking over the younger’s shoulder at his students.

“I knew it! Didn’t I tell you Nanamin~ love is in the air!” Gojo’s eyes practically gleamed with hearts. His hands clasped together as the blond didn’t even spare a glance at the overly joyous Sorcerer.

“Are you aware of your age?”

——

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : I just wanna say thank you to Biski for helping me through my major writers block!!! <3

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

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strawbxrryneptune · 1 year

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College BKG <3 (enemies to lovers ish)

unedited, lowkey rushed at the end cause im exhausted but at least i posted something after like a year teehee

@miggiisdumb

You walk into the lecture hall a couple minutes early, dragging your sleep deprived friend along with you.

“I genuinely don't understand why we have to get to class so early. The professor isn't even here yet."

You huff at her complaint, pulling her towards the front where you always sit.

"I just want to keep my seat.”

Before she can reply, you cut her off.

“Yes, I know, I’ve been sitting in the same place the whole semester and no one’s taken my seat, but there’s still the risk. Remember when Bakugou fucking took it last week and wouldn’t stop being smug about it?”

Slipping into the second row, she sits on your left, sighing heavily.

"Honestly, the little petty battle you have with him is getting old babe, just fuck him at this point."

You laugh, resting your head in your hands as you stare at your friend.

"Excuse me?"

She scoffs in your face, obviously too tired for your conversation.

"Listen, we all grew up together, anyone who went to UA can agree that you both have hard ons for each other, but you’re too busy arguing to see it.”

You sigh dramatically, flopping back in your seat.

“He’s an asshole-”

"An asshole you wanna fuck.”

You swipe at her, and she laughs before pushing at your arm.

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want to fuck him.”

“...Okay, he’s kind of hot-”

“So fuck-”

“-no, he’s so annoying!”

She gives you a look then sighs,

“Yes, yes he is.”

You both laugh, your mind wandering elsewhere for a bit before she taps your arm and nods her head behind you, wiggling her eyebrows. You hum, turning to see none other than Bakugo Katsuki himself. He’s walking towards your aisle, plopping down into a seat behind you and putting his bag down next to him. He’s wearing a black sweater draped over black pants, hair fluffy but still somehow spiky looking, and a smoky, almost woodsy scent wafting from him.

Bakugou meets your eyes, and the intensity in his gaze makes your stomach twist. He raises an eyebrow at you, lips curving up to conceal a smirk. You roll your eyes and turn back around, annoyed that he caught you staring. Your friend holds back a laugh next to you and you pointedly ignore her, willing the professor to start the lecture already.

Before you can get fully lost in thought, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn your head and almost hit your forehead against Bakugou’s.

“Jesus, have you ever heard of personal space?”

He ignores your question and squints at the small table in front of you.

“You got an extra pencil?”

You stare at him, then look around to the other people in his row.

“Why are you asking me? There's like 5 other people in your sectio-”

“Do you have another fuckin’ pencil or not, Brat?”

You huff and shake your head no. You definitely have another pencil, but you're not giving it to his rude ass. He slides his eyes from your face to the bright pink pencil case on your table, full to the brim with pencils and highlighters.

“Alright.”

You give him another roll of your eyes and go to turn around, but he stops you by leaning over your shoulder and snatching the pencil you were currently using off of your table, retracting back and sitting in his seat. You're pissed, but you can't even bring yourself to turn around because holy shit were his arms always that muscular? And did they always have those veins running through them all the way to his big hands? And fuck when he bent over you his gold chain came out of his shirt a little and it made you think how it would look dangling over you while he fucked the breath out of you. You take a quick breath and dig through your pencil case, taking a pen out and focusing on the smart board at the front of the class. The professor finally starts talking and you welcome the distraction, taking your notebook out to start taking notes.

Once it hit the end of your class, you closed your notebook and let out a sigh, thankful to be done for the day. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and this time you just give Bakugou a side eye when he slides his face close to yours and plops the pencil back on your desk.

“Thanks.”

“Dunno why you’re acting nice like you didn’t steal from me but you’re welcome.”

His face comes into view, and even though you aren’t looking directly at him, you can see his eyes drilling holes into the side of your face.

“Don’t give me shit as if you didn’t lie to me.”

You scoff and fully turn, almost nose to nose with him.

“Why would I want to give you a pencil when you’re such a dick?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and his eyes darken in a way that makes your stomach turn.

“You wanna repeat that?”

You don't want to repeat it, actually, but you’re not about to back down and pissing him off is too fun, so you get closer.

“I said, why would I want to give you a pencil when you’re. a. dick.”

He gives you a sadistic smile and closes the already small distance between you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“If you want dick so bad I can give it to you, you don't gotta call me one Sweetheart.”

Your face heats up and your eyes dart around the room, relief flooding your chest when you realize everyone cleared out of the lecture hall except for some girl who was closing her laptop and shoving her things into her bag.

You turn back to him and step back, grabbing your notebook and pencil case and putting it into your bag.

“Please, I’d get more satisfaction from a metal pipe than your dick. You can’t handle this.”

He grabs your wrist, and when you turn back around he’s in your face again, this time staring at your lips with dark eyes.

“You wanna bet?”

You look around again, watching that last girl walk out the door. Fuck it, if the dick is bad or you embarass yourself you still have time to drop the class.

With that in mind, you shake your wrist free from his grip and lean in to kiss him, sighing softly when he kisses back because his lips are so soft. He brings a strong hand to your jaw and tilts your head, kissing you deeper. You make out for a bit before you start to become aware of the awkward position you’re both in, straining to kiss each other over the seats of the hall. He seems to have the same thought, and he brings his hands down to your waist before pausing and pulling away.

“Can I touch you?”

You think it's a bit silly for him to ask you at this point, but you appreciate it nonetheless.

“Yes.”

You say it breathily, and he gives you a crooked smile before grabbing your waist and whispering, “Jump” against your mouth. You do as he says and he effortlessly lifts you up over the seats and into his arms, hands moving to cup your ass. He continues to kiss you and you start to feel yourself getting hot, moving your hips against his stomach to alleviate some of the tension. He squeezes your ass and moves to sit down, placing you on the ground before turning you around and making you sit on his lap with your back to him. He leans forward to kiss your neck while bringing a veiny hand up to lightly choke you, not applying that much pressure but still making your head spin.

“Grind on me.”

“Ask nicely, Bakugou.”

He chuckles and gives you a sharp bite on the side of your neck, making your hips jolt against him.

“There you go, good girl.”

You want to tell him off, but you can feel his dick through his pants and you want to feel more. Biting your lip, you grind against him slowly, picking up the pace gradually and forcing moans out of the both of you.

“Fuck, Bakugou take your pants off i wanna feel you.”

“Ask nicely, brat.”

You huff and turn to try and undo his pants, but he stops you.

“I said, ask nicely. You're not gettin’ shit actin all prissy.”

“...fine. Please take off your pants so I can sit on your cock, Bakugou.”

He hums and gives you another murmur of “good girl” before tapping your hips to get you up again, shimmying his pants to his knees and taking his dick out. He reaches over and takes your bottoms and panties off, rubbing your hips before reaching around and starting to rub soft circles into your clit, causing you to let out a small moan. He pulls you closer and continues to pleasure you, teasing you and pulling at your clit occasionally while slipping his hand into your shirt and tweaking a nipple. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, and you start to move your hips along with his hand. He groans against you as he feels you getting slick, taking his hand away quickly to slide your wetness along his dick. He uses one hand to pump himself while sliding one, two, three thick fingers into you, curving them and pumping rhythmically. He whispers in your ear about how soft you are, how beautiful and wet and perfect your pussy is, and you just can’t stop gushing on his fingers. You start to feel your orgasm coming up, and you stop his fingers.

”Fuck me, Bakugou, please.”

He moans at the desperate tone of your voice, bringing you further back and sliding his cock along your pussy, rubbing the tip against your clit and making your legs shake. You whine and reach back, wrapping your hand around his and guiding him inside you, gasping at the stretch. He takes it slow, and once you give him a whimper and a nod he starts to thrust into you, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back. He fucks you good, and you start to feel your legs shake and your vision blur as he hits that spot over and over and over again until you feel him consume you and you’re cumming just like that, back arched and eyes shut, moaning loud. He moans along with you, slamming his hips into you through the squeezing of your pussy. He slows down his thrusts to give you time to calm down, and you lean back and moan in his ear, squeezing him some more. He groans and pulls you off of him, cumming onto your ass.

You both take a moment to calm down, getting dressed in slightly awkward silence as you both grab your shit. You check your phone quickly and hold back a laugh when you see a text from your friend telling you she left in hopes of you getting dicked down. Little did she fucking know.

#neptunewrites🪐#bakugo smut #bakugou thirst #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #neptunetalks🪐

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shebsart · 1 month

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Ok I don't wanna be a joykill but I've been seeing a lot of posts about how Sophie made Howl and the Witch get together but that is not true. So I made a rough timeline.

First of all, in order for Sophie's magic hat to work, the Witch or Howl would have to wear it but the first and most likely the only time The Witch visits Sophie's shop is AFTER Howl already jilted her, because she is looking for information about him at this point. She puts a spell on Sophie thinking she is Lettie, whom Suliman-Justin mix(the dog man) cares about. Because he witholds information about Howl from her. (plus the witch has heard sophie works powerful magic so thats two birds one stone)

Second, Howl met the Witch a year before the main events but it doesn't add up with the time Sophie speaks this to the hat:

This is during Sophie is alone at the hat shop after Martha and Lettie left.

Howl later says this(which is hardly a month after May Day):

she says this on May Day:

Sophie has been working at the shop by herself for a few months before May Day, and around a week later she meets the Witch.(she says at least 3 days to around a week has passed after speaking to Martha on May Day)

Anyway here is the rough timeline of the main events:

1. The Witch threatens Princess Valeria, The King sends Suliman to her and he's caught by the Witch (a year prior the main events)

2. A few months later, Howl is possibly looking for Suliman and he meets the Witch in the process:

that's around the same time Howl settles his moving castle on Market Chipping Hills (this is a little while before Sophie's dad dies and the sisters go their seperate ways):

We actually don't knoew when exactly he made the moving castle or why, but if Michael is correct it's after Howl jilts the Witch:

buut Howl doesn't say anything about that so I assume he made it for convenience and to escape the responsibilities of being a good wizard lol but let me know if i'm missing something (to me, the castle phsically moving is only for the appearances, it doesn't actually do any good for running away from anyone. the real trick is the multiple portals and settlements of the castle)

3. around this time Prince Justin goes after Suliman

ok so when justin and count are looking for suliman, sophie is working at the hat shop because count meets jane when she was wearing sophie's hat

4. May Day comes, Sophie meets Howl without knowing it's him.

5. around 7-10 days later, The Witch visits Sophie's shop and puts a spell on her. She leaves the shop and enters Howl's castle on the hills.

6. Her stay at the Castle is around 1,5 months

she enters the castle on lets say 8-9th of May, until Howl's curse comes true on Midsummer's Day (which is mid july)

-Oh and, speaking of a common misconception, Howl didn't buy the guitar to impress girls, he thought it was related to Suliman somehow because it also came from Wales (so did the skull and Suliman). According to Calcifer, he uses it to impress girls but im not sure if that's true entirely:

So when he takes his guitar with him, he is probably looking for Justin and Suliman, maybe he thinks the guitar would help finding them. But probably it also works with the ladies so it doesn't hurt kfdls

-The Witch did curse Howl for jilting her, but she wasn't looking for him only because of that. She wanted his head (the second most powerful wizard next to her most likely) for her frankenstein's monster to rule with her dksl. Same with Suliman. She probably didn't want Mrs. Pentstemmon because she was also old and wasn't much use to her anymore. Or maybe Mrs Pentstemmon wasn't showing any weaknesses to the Witch which made it hard to capture her. not sure

#shes really good at saying things that are true wothout knowing theyre true cjdkde #howl's moving castle #hmc book #diana wynne jones #howl's moving castle book #sheb rereads hmc #hmc

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hoe4sports · 5 months

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“Your last name on my back”

Jenni Hermoso x Alexia Putellas x child reader

A/N: Jenni never left Barca.

Mamma had now stayed over for many nights. You couldn’t count well but probably more than 50. It felt like a forever sleepover. You didn’t understand why mamma had stayed over, but mami had tried to explain. You had seen mami and mamma kissing on the couch sometimes. Sometimes holding hands. Sometimes hugging. You understood that they loved each other. Yet, big words were hard, but you understood that you loved mamma.

Mamma that had always loved you back. That would always let you sit on her lap. That would always want to hold your hand. That would never refused to carry you. Not your tummy mummy, but mamma. Mamma’s name was Alexia. She had played football with mami for a few years. When your tummy mummy left in the middle of the night and Mami showed up to practice the next morning with a newborn looking terrified; Alexua was there. She was always there. She took care of Mami and she helped take care of you. She picked up the broken pieces and mended them back together one by one. One day at a time.

You were only little so you didn’t understand why mamma couldn’t take you to the doctors alone or why you couldn’t have her last name. You had Hermoso, and another strange last name. The other last name was cold, it felt like a frozen shoulder or like someone was taking your heart away. All the other little girls at football had two last names; one from their mom and one from their dad. One from each parent. One from each person that loved them. You however, only had one. Not one name, but one that loved you.

When the coach of your under 5’s had given you your first jersey a Saturday morning, you had teared up when another older girl read the names of your jersey to you. You didn’t like the first last name. You hated it, despised it. The first time you had heard it was when mami was on a phone call while you were supposed to be sleeping. She had talked to her brother, about wanting to change your name but your tummy mummy had refused even though she wasn’t a part of your life anymore. That’s why when you got your first jersey, the moment wasn’t filled with joy, pride or excitement. It was filled with as much rage as a 4 year old could body. Your little hands pulled the jersey off while they were shaking as tears were forming in your eyes. The pride of your first jersey being ripped away from you in an instant. You quickly blinked the tears away as you stood there with the jersey in your hands. The fabric of the jersey was just like mami’s jersey, but this jersey didn’t feel good. It felt like something you wanted to throw to the ground. Stomp on. Hit. Get rid of in an instant. “Y/N, you no like your jersey?” You coach said as he stood infront of you. You looked down, not daring to look him in his usual kind eyes. “It’s small” you murmur out as the best possible excuse even though as the youngest and smallest on the team, it definitely fitted you. “Ah, si, how about you just wear a vest yes? A pink vest?” He said as he held the pink neon colored vest infront of your eyes. You grabbed it quickly as you settled on wearing the familiar bright vest instead. Practice began and you quickly forgot about your jersey that didn’t feel like your jersey. The practice went on quickly and by the look of mamma’s face; you knew that she could sense that something was going on. It wasnt until one of the youth assistant coaches was helping you with controlling your ball that you noticed that your jersey was gone from the field. It made you happy, as you thought that it had disappeared and that you wouldn’t have to ever see it again. The practice ended and your team did your usual team hug and chant at the end. You ran off the field with the other little girls straight to Alexia who was sitting with the other parents. “Mamma!” You yelled as you ran into her arms. “I am so proud of you, you worked so hard today. Ready to go home and see mami?” Alexia said as her strong arms lifted you up from the ground. Mamma and mami never cared about people that said that you shouldn’t be carried or that you were too old. They knew that one day, you wouldn’t wanna be carried anymore and until that day came along: they refused to stop holding you close and keeping you safe.

—

You were sitting at the kitchen table with Mami and Alexia having lunch. You were talking about how practice went and how hard you were working on your skills. Alexia joked that she had gotten it from her mamma, but all three of you knew that it wasn’t possible. It made you pout as you wanted to be mami and mamma’s baby so bad. You dropped your fork onto the table and frowned as you pouted. Your mami looked at you as she tilted her head. “So baby, we need to talk about what happened at practice today. I heard that you didn’t like your jersey, no? Why is that?” She spoke as she looked at you. Alexia rubbed Jenni’s back as support and you crossed your arms in anger. You shook your head, refusing to answer as your feelings were bottled up in your throat forming a big lump. «Princesa, we want to help you. Was the color wrong? Or was it the fabric?” Mami continued as she tried to get out of you what the issue with the jersey was. The anger made your head spin and your feet tickle. You wanted to throw a fit and scream and yell. You hated your last name. It reminded you of the person who abandoned you when you were a baby. Who suddenly decided that you weren’t important, that you weren’t wanted, that you were regretted. Your little heart was beating fast and your hands were shaking. You looked up at Mami as you shouted on the top of your lungs; “I don’t wanna be a Dias anymore, I wanna be a Putellas!”

You had hopped down from the chair and stormed to the bedroom as quickly as your tired feet would let you. You shut the door with a bang and twisted the lock on the door. Mami cursing herself for not removing it as she was supposed to. You stomped to your bed and grabbed your pillow and blanket before you made a spot inside your closet for you to decompress and hide. Your feelings felt so big, like your little frame couldn’t possibly fit it all inside your heart. You felt angry, scared, fragile and terrified that mami would eventually regret you as well. You didn’t wanna be a hard child. People would always say that you were delightful and easy going, and you were for the most. It was only this subject that had grown into a big knot in your stomach. Mami didn’t wanna hide your story from you in case you would read it somewhere or a kid would ask you about it. She wanted you to own your own story, so she had always made sure to tell you the story and give you age appropriate details. You pulled the closet doors closed as you closed your eyes feeling tired. You weren’t sure if it was because of practice or because of your big feelings. You wanted nothing more than to run to mami or mamma, be held, be told that she would take care of it, that it was okay, that she wasn’t upset or angry and that she loved you endlessly regardless of anything. You wanted mami to pick you up with her big warm strong arms and hold you close so you could feel her familiar scent. But you couldn’t let yourself. You wanted to be stubborn. To be a big girl. You sniffled as a tear rolled out of your eye as your tried to hold your bunny close.

Your polarbear was however in your bed so you made a bolt to grab your bear before coming back into your closet feeling like you wanted to hide away forever. You held the bear tight and had him pushed towards your chest as you sobbed. Eventually falling asleep tucked away in the closet.

You woke up to mami’s and mamma’s face towards you. You blinked a couple of times. Could it have been a bad dream? “Hola princesa” Mami said as she stroke your hair gently. The light was dimmed and you were sitting in mami’s arms in their bedroom. You could hear the sound of the television that was mounted on the wall infront of the bed buzzing. “Mami” you said as the feelings came crashing into you leaving you chocking out a cry. “Shh, mi amor, it’s okay, it’s just big feelings” Mami said as she held you closer one hand on your back and the other on your head pushing you into her chest like she did when you were a baby. “Everything will be okay, Mami will take care of it. Mamma told me what happened and if you don’t want to; you don’t have to tell me, si?” Mami said as she comforted you while you shut your eyes to keep the big feelings outside. “Mami?” You said so quietly that nobody should’ve been able to hear, but Mami always heard. Mami always knew. “Si, princesa?” She said as you wiggled lose from her grip and sat up infront of her. You looked at Mami, then at mamma and then at Mami again. “I don’t like my name” you muttered quietly expecting some sort of reaction. “Is that so? Why?” Mami said as she looked at you with a soft expression on her face not seeming angry or mad, just looking at you like you were her whole world. “The other kids, Mami..” you started as you felt tears pricking in your eyes and your voice started to break. “I wanna be like you, and mamma..” you continued as you took a big breath to sound out the last word you needed to complete the sentence. You looked at mamma. “I want your last name on my back, Mami. But I also want mamma’s. No dummy tummy mummy last name.” You said as your frowned and tears were escaping your blue icy eyes to run down your red blissed cheeks. “That’s okay princesa, I can talk to the coach.” Mami said as she pulled you into her arms again. “Princesa, you can have both our last names.” Mami said as you looked over at mamma. To your surprise, Alexia was smiling at you. You sniffled and smiled back before you launched yourself at mamma like a rocket trying to go to space. But just like mami, mamma always knew and she was prepared letting you close hugging you tight. “Pequena, we have got you a present” mamma whispered in your ear as your head shot up almost knocking mamma’s nose out in the move. “What is it?” You said as you could feel a spark of good feelings coming back into your body. Mami reached for a box next to her night stand and your eyes opened wide. The box was pink and glittery with a glittery golden bow on top. Mami sat it infront of you as mamma held you in her lap. You carefully tugged at the bow, causing the bow to loosen as you took the lid of the box. You pulled the item out as it revealed a jersey. A jersey just like the team had gotten this Saturday morning at practice. Your heart dropped for a second as you lowered the jersey until mami held it up for you to see. “Do you see the back princesa?” She said as you looked at the letters. It made you confused as you still were learning to read. “It says Hermoso-Putellas and it’s the same as mami’s number. 10” Mami is nr.10 in Barcelona. You felt all the bad feelings rushing to leave your little body as you wrapped an arm around each woman’s neck holding them tight. The two women eased closer to you and held you together closely. “We love you, Princesa. You can always tell us if something feels bad.” Mami finished as she kissed your cheek making you feel all bubbly and happy again. But the legal part of the name change? That’s a story for another day and it’s a long story.

#woso imagine #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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inmyheaddd · 1 month

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golden - jameson hawthorne’s birthday

a/n: two posts in one day because it’s our husbands bday!!! lots of averyjameson just for u liv 🙈 wc: 1.3k taglist: @heartwithsimplenotes @thecircularlibrary @x-liv25-jamieswife @whatsamongus

@anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @littlemissmentallyunstable masterlist

this year was jameson’s golden birthday, turning 22 years old on the 22nd of august.

avery wasn’t even sure if he even knew what a golden birthday was, but she decorated accordingly to it nonetheless.

for him, another birthday was a subtle reminder that nothing was permanent, and everything changes, no matter how much you don’t want it to.

knowing this, his only plan for the next day as he went to sleep was to spend as much time with the people he truly loved. not some big event with hundreds of people coming, mostly just because of the hawthorne last name attached, like he had done years before.

“jameson, wake up.” avery smiled as she nudged his shoulder, sitting on the edge of the bed. she had been up for 3 hours now, preparing everything.

he didn’t wake up, so she resulted to peppering kisses on his face.

as his eyelids fluttered open, avery pulled back and her smile grew.

jameson’s brows furrowed momentarily as he sat up, leaning against the headboard and stretching.

he looked around the room, seeing golden glitter roses, balloons, and other decorations all around the room. his eyes found their way back to avery, who had a gentle smile on her face.

“good morning, birthday boy.” avery whispered, and jameson leaned in to kiss her.

as he pulled back, he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way their room looked.“heiress, how— why did you do all this?”

she let out a small chuckle, “why wouldn’t i?”

jameson had a million thoughts swarming though his head, half of them on how much he loved avery, the other half on how much he didn’t deserve her.

he deflected his inner thoughts by leaning in so that his lips barely grazed avery’s, “well, do i get a birthday present?”

“oh, you have no idea,” there was a hint of playfulness in her voice, she lingered for a moment, but then she pulled back, standing up and holding her hand out for jameson.

“what? let’s go.” she said in a fake cheery voice, trying to not laugh at the way jameson’s jaw was slack.

his lips turned up in amusement, before taking ahold of her hand with a sigh and letting her lead the way.

his eyes were wide as he took in the whole place. she decorated the whole house, flower trails, food, she had even made a riddle game for him to solve.

he quite literally stopped in his tracks, “heiress.”

her head turned, “yeah?”

he took a step forward, “do you know how inlove with you i am?”

avery smiled, her head slightly tilting to the side as she hummed for a second, “hm, i have a pretty good idea.”

they spent hours together, but it felt like mere minutes.

jameson was now on top of avery, pressing lights kisses to her neck that left her laughing and squirming underneath him. her phone went off, again, and again, until it finally registered in her mind.

“oh shit, it’s 4:30. we have to go!” she got up from the couch, then started scrambling for something in the drawers.

jameson got up behind her quickly, “what’s going on?” he asked curiously, slightly breathless.

after repeated mumbles of “where is it” and other swears, avery pulled a blindfold out. “here, wear this.”

jameson grinned at her and chuckled, “isn’t this bedroom use only?”

avery rolled her eyes jokingly, before reaching up to tie it on him herself.

“bossy, i like it.” he muttered, and when avery hit his shoulder in response, his grin only widened.

“and here i thought getting older meant becoming more mature.” she murmured, slightly thankful jameson couldn’t see the flush on her face.

somehow, he seemed to know anyway based on the way his tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

“come on, let’s go.” avery dragged him outside to the car.

5 minutes into the drive, jameson recognized the routes they were taking.

“we’re going to the House.” he didn’t phrase it as a question.

“yes, we are.” avery hadn’t expected otherwise, “just wait and see. patience is a virtue, jameson.” she remarked sarcastically.

“well, the thing is, avery. i can’t wait and see, can i? because my vision is currently obstructed by—“

“ugh, you’re impossible,” avery groaned, as she hit his shoulder once again. his nerves lit on fire as he felt her hand settle on his leg, a smile finding his face.

there were lights all around the exterior of the hawthorne house, some rainbow, some white, some golden, and balloons everywhere. there was even a car out front with a large bow on it.

the second avery and jameson came through the door, there was a chorus of “happy birthday!”s.

jameson laughed out loud as he took off his blindfold.

nash was holding his twins, cheering, and xander popped a party popper. max was there too, and she blew one of the party whistles with libby. avery moved to stand with them, clapping and cheering along with everyone with a smile never leaving her face.

grayson walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “happy birthday jameson.” there was a faint echo of the little kids they once were; grayson solemnly congratulating jameson, silently wishing him good luck before he met with their grandfather for his next project, and knowing he was next.

jameson pulled him into a side hug, patting his back hard twice, “thankyou, gray.” they would never be those kids again, and jameson wasn’t sure too if he was happy or sad about that.

3 hours later, too many drinks to count, and one very interesting group karaoke of taylor swifts “22” later, everyone had decided it was time to cut the cake.

“you see, we’re the same age now, so i don’t have to listen to you anymore.” jameson yelled atop the music that was still blasting,

“jameson, i’m still older than you.” grayson’s voice was more leveled.

“you’re 22, i’m 22. we’re equals, gray.”

“i turn 23 in 4 hours.” he deadpanned.

“are you 23 though?” jameson questioned as he poked at his shoulder.

xander was watching the interaction between them, surprisingly, silently, placing another snack in his mouth.

“jameson. i’m telling you again, go and cut your birthday cake, and put the glass down. people are waiting.” grayson took a step away from jameson’s

he couldn’t help but mess with his older brother longer. he wouldn’t take this singular day where they were the same age for granted, he never did.

hes done this every single year, ever since he could remember.

“everyone’s having fun!. i know you’re dying for the cake, but be patient, grayson, you’ll get your owncake soon enough. don’t worry!” grayson rose an eyebrow, and jameson continued.

“i respect my elders, but you, my dear brother,” he pointed at grayson, “are not my elder. besides, you haven’t said please yet.” he said as took another sip of his champagne.

grayson took a deep inhale, pinching his nose bridge.

before he had the chance to speak again, avery approached and jameson’s attention clearly diverted as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“the twins want to try the cake, and nash just found the camera we were looking for! let’s go and cut it now, yeah?”

“oh, of course, heiress. let’s go.” he smiled down at her and took her hand.

grayson stood there silently, almost in disbelief, and xander snorted.

avery’s brows furrowed as she looked between the three of them, jameson simply shrugged. “i don’t know what their problem is.”

as they walked off, jameson turned around briefly to shoot grayson a grin.

by the end of the night, they’d taken around 70 polaroids, used 4 different digital cameras, and xander tried (and failed) to use grayson’s camera.

jameson and avery were back home, curled up in bed. he kissed her forehead softly as she snuggled closer. “thankyou you for today,” he whispered.

“you don’t have to thank me.”

“i do, though. i think…” he trailed off, trying to find the right words “maybe without realizing, all the birthday wishes i had made before were all about you.” he paused, “they all led me to you.”

avery lifted her head to meet his eyes with a light laugh, “i never took you as the sappy type, but i kind of like it on you.”

jameson chuckled and turned his head to the side before turning back to her, “it’s a special occasion, don’t get used to it.”

she let out a giggle before pressing a kiss to his lips, “happy birthday, jameson.”

jameson smiled, his arm wrapped around avery’s waist as he pulled her closer. “with you here, it truly is,” he murmured.

#jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #the inheritance games #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #tig #tgg #avery kylie grambs #avery x jameson #tig headcanons #hawthorne brothers #❦ jude writes

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 6 months

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter five of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Drug Use, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Possible spoilers for season three.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

***********************************

Present Day

"Hey'ya Kitten!" Legend smiles wide when he opens the front door of his apartment. "Where have you been baby? How's retirement?" He leans forward for a kiss and you turn your cheek to the side.

Always the flirt.

"Exciting. Is it alright if I come in?"

"Of course! I always have time for my favorite hero." He ushers you into his home.

It was one day after Agent Butcher and Hughie had dropped by your apartment looking for information on Soldier Boy. One sleepless night later you realized that the only way you were going to find Countess was through Legend. And despite his flirtatious attitude, you liked your former handler.

The apartment looks the same as it always has. Memorabilia from what he thought was the good old days hangs on the walls, a black leather couch sags in the center of the living room, and a red faded high backed armchair stands in the corner like a silent guardian. The smell of old cologne, pot, and alcohol soaks through the air and into your nose as you turn to examine the inhabitant.

Legend looks decidedly older. Sometimes you forgot that you didn't age the same way other people did, but then you'd meet someone from the past and it would remind you all over again. He's wearing the same smoking jacket with patched elbows, sunglasses, and ascot, that you saw him wearing over ten years ago. But Legend was classic.

"You hurt my feelings by not calling." He breezes having a seat on one of the couches, and fluffing more of the offensive smell through your nose, but you don't make a face. "What's it been ten years?"

"Something like that." You smile tightly and sit down on the armchair.

It wasn't that you didn't like seeing Legend. He might have been a crazy son of a bitch, but he was a good handler. He knew everything about everyone and he helped you get through Ben's death, not to mention he helped you create your new life when you broke away from Payback.

"You want some?" Legend holds out a mirror where a single white line of cocaine sits. "Or are you still sober?"

"I never did cocaine. And yeah, I'm still trying to stay on the wagon."

"Don't know how you do it."

"Me either." You say it partly to yourself, because it was true. You didn't know how you got through the past 40 years without a drink. Before, it wasn't that you partied as hard as Ben or the others did. It was more the drinking than drugs you imbibed in. Yes, you'd smoked the occasional blunt, but you didn't want to lose control if you tried anything stronger. You didn't like losing control, you prided yourself on keeping it together.

Ben had lost control more than once, and each time he'd show up at your apartment just like he had when he was a kid and he was hiding from his father, falling asleep beside you like nothing had changed. You never understood how he could be so vulnerable when it was just the two of you, but when he was in public he was different. Sometimes you hated that, because in those quiet moments you saw the boy you fell in love with, but when you were out in public you saw the man he became.

You remember all the times he lost control. The worst was when he threw a car through a house when trying to stop some kids in the street and killed an older man. Ben hadn't gone to the funeral, but you had. You sat on the back pew and watched the family mourn. Only a little boy in the front row had noticed you, and you had offered a kind smile, before walking back through the streets and leaving an envelope of cash in the family's mailbox. You knew the money couldn't replace the person they lost, but you couldn't think of anything else to do.

"So, are you here because you want to come out of retirement?" Legend snorts the line on the mirror without looking up. "Might be a good thing."

You laugh to yourself. "I like retirement too much to go back to Vought. Too wild out there nowadays with the supervillains and all that Compound V bullshit." You lean back in the armchair, crossing your legs in front of you.

"I could make you a star!" He looks up at you. "You're still as sexy as ever."

"And you're still a dirty old man." You tease, rolling your eyes at him and earning a chortle from Legend. "I don't think my powers are cutesy enough for television. I’m not like Starlight.” You snort thinking about the current blonde member of The Seven that had become America’s Sweetheart, a title that you were happy you never wore.

"Who said anything about your powers babe? It's all about the body."

"Legend-"

"Fine, fine." He shakes his head. "I saw your last art show, very nice. Bought something for the country house."

"That's very kind of you." You smile with pride. Your last show had been a series you titled "Moods of the Forest," which meant that you had camped out under the stars for a solid month up North drinking in the silence of the woods. It was a nice way for you to clear your head and catch up on your reading, but it had done little to ease the thoughts of the past. "Those were some of my favorites. It was hard to part with them."

"You're very talented." He compliments.

"Thank You. I'd hope so. I've been painting for almost 90 years." Your memory flashes back to when Ben gave you paint for your birthday and the months that followed as you practiced. All the days you spent painting in the park and along the streets of Philadelphia, sometimes with Ben following behind and teasing you, but you knew he loved how much you were painting, loved how much you enjoyed the gift. The happiness and warmth of the memories is doused by a bucket of cold water as you remember the last time you saw him. The echo of the last words you spoke to him and the words he shouted at you ringing in your ears.

The chill sobers you and makes you remember why you were here talking to Legend.

"I have something important to ask you." You look up at Legend. "Do you know where Crimson Countess is?"

Legend doesn't answer immediately. The spike of his pulse with the mention of Countess' name is loud in your ears. "Did you want a scotch? I think I need one." He avoids your gaze.

"Legend-"

He stands from the couch and moves over to the table in the corner that has a collection of multicolored bottles that you wish you could drink from, but you restrain yourself. You hear the sound of the glass being poured and as he turns he takes a sip as if rousing the courage to tell you.

"Y/n if this is you finally going after her, now might not be the best time." He swirls the glass in his hand, the amber liquid sloshing against the sides. "I thought you were past all that-"

"It's not like that I-“ Your lips press together in a tight line, considering your next words. "Some men came to my apartment the other day looking for me. They were asking me about Ben."

"You told them you were dead right? The story we came up with?" Legend looks worried.

"Yeah. Don't think they bought it." You shrug.

"Did they give you their names?"

"They said they were with the CIA. Agent Butcher and a guy named Hughie-"

"Butcher? Dark hair, British accent, asshole?" Legend's glass pauses half-way to his mouth.

"Yeah. How did you-"

Legend sighs. "He used to be with the CIA, was on a task force that was used to hunt down supes. I helped them find a few over the years."

"Hunt them down?"

"Butcher's got a bone to pick with supes. Homelander especially." Legend sits back on the couch nursing his scotch.

At the mention of Vought’s most popular hero you pause. You didn’t know too much about Homelander, just that he emerged as Vought’s Golden Boy a few years after Ben died and he was supposed to be indestructible. You wondered if he was as indestructible as you.

“Homelander?”

“Did something to his wife.” Legend waves a hand like it doesn’t matter. "But they were asking you about Soldier Boy?"

"Yeah, they wanted to know about the relationship I had with him and how he died-" You foot taps against the ground, fighting the urge to pour yourself a drink.

Legend looks worried. "Maybe you should get out of town for a few days-"

"What?"

Can Butcher really be that dangerous? He didn't seem like much the other day and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be able to handle me. Most supes couldn't.

"Not because of Butcher, he's a dick, but I mean everything with Soldier Boy." Legend takes a sip from the glass. "If you start thinking about him again, you're going to be in the same place you were last time."

Deep down you know he's right, ever since Butcher and Hughie showed up on your doorstep, Ben was all you thought about. The hole you dug yourself into when you and Ben fought and then he died was deep and dark, and it was already beginning to open under your feet.

You didn’t know if talking to Countess would help close it, but maybe you needed closure, maybe you needed to hear it from her how he died. The last thing you wanted was to go to Stan Edgar. He'd already shown up once, but you thought you had convinced him with your story. Occasionally he would show up to one of your art shows, browsing through the canvases, and asking you about the inspiration of them. You never liked when he showed up in your life, because after all these years he hadn't changed, he was still a snake obsessed with power and being on top.

"I know." You sigh, clutching your hands together in your lap. "But I want to talk to her. Maybe it's time. There was always something that unsettled me about how Ben died and she's the one who saw it. Plus Noir isn’t very talkative these days, Gunpowder is dead, and I’d rather drink cyanide than listen to those two TNT idiots.”

Learning that Gunpowder was dead was a shock. You'd lost contact with him, but you thought it was suspicious that he died so soon before Butcher and Hughie came to see you. You knew that Gunpowder was still doing his rounds in the gun expos and conventions, boasting about the good all days and preaching about the dangers of gun control.

It was ironic for him to be against it when you'd personally seen him kill several people who pissed him off and for no good reason.

If anything he shouldn't be allowed near a gun.

When you knew him he was still a kid, but even then he was already adopting the ridiculous macho attitude that Ben had.

Must have stuck.

"I still don’t think it's a good idea." Legend finishes his glass of Scotch. "But let me find it.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me kitten. I don't think I'm doing you a favor." He grunts moving through the apartment, while your eyes trace the photos. Several of them were of Ben at movie premieres, another showed the whole Payback team, and finally just Ben and Legend. He was wearing his ridiculous helmet, the one you used to tease him about. You always thought it was a shame that they covered up his handsome face.

You had a box of photos under your bed that held similar images, but most of yours were of Ben and you not wearing your supe suits. The ones from your childhood needed to be handled with care, but you enjoyed looking at them, before you saw the hardness in Ben's eyes and the set of his jaw. Those early photos showed you the boy you fell in love with.

"Here." He hands you a slip of paper that holds his untidy scrawl as you stand from the chair.

"Thank you." You turn to go, but stop. "Should I be worried about Butcher?"

"I'd stay out of his way. He kills supes for fun."

"But if Ben's already dead then what does he want?"

Legend shrugs. "Can't be good."

"Great."

"Just be careful." Legend puts his hand on your shoulder. "I know that everything that happened with Soldier Boy really threw you-"

"I know. But I have to know. I have to hear what she has to say." You sigh looking up at him. It touched your heart that he cared so much. Legend never got close to his clients in the past, but for some reason he was always more willing to help you. It was him that talked you out of the hole when Ben died.

"Okay."

"It was good to see you. Take care of yourself." You try not to see the weariness in his eyes, the way the wrinkles have grown and stretched over the years, how the gray of his hair has spread. One listen with your supe hearing meant that you could hear his blood pumping through his veins, but it wasn’t at the same vigor as it once was. It was difficult to see age on the people you knew, the day that you and Ben both figured out that you weren't aging anymore had been bittersweet. You were happy that Ben wouldn’t die either, but it meant you’d lose your family. However, Ben’s inability to age meant that you weren't alone.

You frown to yourself. Sometimes you’d thought that meant something, that the universe finally threw you a bone and it was some cosmic sign that you and Ben were supposed to be together-

What a crock of shit.

But despite his death the past few years you hadn't been alone even though you had expected it.

"Good to see you too kitten. Don't be a stranger."

When you finally make it to the street below, you kick your leg over your motorcycle, but pause.

I could just go home and work on my pieces for my next show. Go home and pretend those men never showed up and forget all about Ben. The guilt and anger that rises with his name is familiar, but you brush it away. This might be the only chance I have of finding out what happened to him. You think about Countess and the scrap of paper in your pocket. But it won't be easy.

*****************************************

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated, but not required. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #the boys amazon #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #the boys series #the boys season 3

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