#as far as I know the only nickname she has is 'captain' but it's not used anymore

[agrebel18]

HUNTER CALLING WILLOW WILL AS A JOKE AT FIRST AND THEN IT CATCHING ON AND EVERYONE CALLING HER THAT AND I- *foams at the mouth*

Look what you’ve done to me

AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA i guess I'm contagious :)

OH BUT THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE, SHE DESERVES FOR ALL HER FRIENDS TO HAVE A NICKNAME LIKE THAT FOR HER <3

[rafeandonlyrafe]

southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

--

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

--

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.” 

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you. 

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off. 

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 3.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (sampo, gepard), fem!reader (jing yuan, you're referred to as 'lady'), reader is emotionally constipated or just kinda stoic as the title suggests, I guess you could say tsundere?? mostly fluff -w- ⊹ part 2 here!

sorry for the delay on new writing!! honestly I've had a bit to do around the house and the inspiration hasn't been inspiring Σ(;Φ ω Φ) if you want to send in a request, feel free! I could use some new ideas ♡(ﾐ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﾐ)ﾉ thanks for the support!

⊹ Gepard Landau

You honestly didn't have much to think about the Captain of the Silvermane Guards.

Aside from the due respect and mild admiration that just about everyone in Belobog held for him and his military group, you didn't have much else to say. The two of you had never even spoken.

The only connection you could possibly have to him was via his sister, Serval Landau. She was your friend (a tentative word for your situation, you surmise) and would often have him over at her store.

You also tended to lounge about the Neverwinter Workshop ("hanging out", Serval would call it, but you begged to differ), but you had never really paid him much mind, and you assumed he had paid you the same.

Serval's favorite nickname for you is "lounging stray" due to the way you came in and out as you pleased, staying only for food and rest when it was available.

The most you recall interacting with the imposing man was a hesitant wave when he had entered the shop while Serval was out.

After all, it would have been quite rude to completely ignore him—though, honestly, you never cared much for politeness, so you had always mulled that incident over in your head. Why had you greeted him?

About a week later, you were mildly surprised to see a bouquet of flowers in Serval's hands from Eversummer Florist.

It wasn't exactly an unusual assumption to make that the down-to-earth rock-and-roll enthusiast would have her share of admirers, but they were typically more forthcoming with their affections from what you'd observed.

But then, upon spotting you, she promptly shoved them into your arms, announcing that they had been addressed to you, not her.

You hadn't felt your face shift that much in years, nor had you ever experienced that level of shock before.

"Looks like someone has a secret admirer," Serval touted, tuning her guitar on the side with a smirk playing on her lips. Her tone was drawn out, knowing, as if this were some elaborate prank she was in on.

"Wow, Ball Peonies, even? What an expensive spread! Lucky Y/N!"

You didn't even spare her a glance as you took your usual seat in her workshop, thumbing one of the petals with mildly intrigued contemplation.

In your rush to lounge about the workshop and ignore your friend's loud teasing, you failed to notice Gepard at his sister's side, nor the way his ears turned red and he hurried to hush Serval.

"I don't get it," you murmured at last, both siblings' heads whipping over to you. "I don't talk to anyone. Except you, that is."

"Well, I didn't send them. Sorry, my little stray, but as much as I adore you, it's not in that way!"

You gave Serval an unamused raise of your brow, then huffed, mumbling a 'whatever' as you lay on the windowsill in the corner of the shop.

However, that pair of blue eyes sneakily noted that your attention was still taken with the flowers, far from your usual routine of pulling out your phone to scroll.

Eventually, you held them on your chest, deigning to stare out the window as you began drifting off into a half-conscious nap. Your rest, however, was awoken by the sound of loud whispering. Serval noticed the unimpressed look on your face and laughed, clapping her hands together before patting Gepard on the back, who looked thoroughly embarrassed. His face was bright red.

"Well, I gotta head out and run some errands! Keep Y/N company for me, huh, Geppie? They can get lonely."

You chose to ignore that last bit, raising your hand and waving at your friend who practically flew out the door.

An awkward silence settled over the room, which miffed you a bit. What did you have to feel awkward about? This had happened before with other people.

Even then, you weren't keen on breaking it. It seemed the Captain had other plans, though.

"Um..." Gepard spoke up from across the workshop, standing just a bit uncomfortably as he shifted from foot to foot. You glanced over your shoulder at him from where you lay, waiting for him to speak. "Sorry about Serval. She can be a bit much."

"I know," you replied simply, unable to meet his eye for some reason. "I'm in here a lot."

"I know," Gepard echoed. Then, his face went back to tomato-red. "Um, I mean, I see you around a lot in here whenever I visit. Not that I'm intentionally staring at you, or anything of that sort! I just notice—"

"It's okay, I got what you meant."

"Right! Right." The Captain shut himself up, thorough mortification making its way back to his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "S-Sorry, uh, for rambling."

"It's fine."

Well, this was getting painful.

You stunned yourself momentarily when you opened your mouth to speak back first.

"So, uh... How's being Captain and everything?" you murmured, almost too quiet for Gepard to hear. When he realized you had spoken first, his face brightened just a bit, though he still appeared to be fighting the humiliation off his face from his earlier verbal blunder.

"Well, how much would you like to hear about?"

You shrugged. "Anything, I guess. Got any cool stories from the front lines?"

The blonde man smiled, taking the chance to tentatively move closer, pulling over Serval's stool and taking a seat.

"Well..."

About ten minutes later, Serval had decided to spare her poor brother from any more awkwardness, completely sure that the workshop would be thick with silence due to his bashfulness and your nonchalance.

To her surprise, though, she heard muffled voices from within. Serval opened the door as carefully and quietly as she could, peeking her head in just enough to see a sight she never thought she'd see.

You were smiling, even laughing a bit, engaging in conversation about Gepard's duties and your own daily activities (even if there were little of those) from your place on the sill. Her brother seemed to be enjoying himself too, gesturing with his hands as he talked up his own underlings' achievements in battle.

The eldest Landau watched for only a moment longer before shutting the door softly.

"I should go get something to eat... give them a little space."

⊹ Jing Yuan

You liked to call your relationship to the General of the Luofu strictly professional at most.

To call it anything more, in your mind, would be disrespect of the highest order to the man who has defended the fleet for centuries.

Besides, you didn't know if you were exactly capable of anything beyond that. Even your limited friends agreed that you were just about as stoic as one could get.

You frequently heard of their debates with other workers within the Seat of Divine Foresight even as you worked—who was more difficult to approach, you or the General himself?

You scoffed to yourself whenever your so-called "friends" argued that you were, in fact, harder to speak to.

What's so wrong with being professional? If anything, you should be telling them off for gossiping in the workplace.

Still, you couldn't exactly argue with them.

Being the right-hand of the General was enough for you to learn his mannerisms even over a short time, though now, after serving at his side for several decades, you could confidently say he was far less intimidating than everyone made him out to be.

Not that you cared, of course. Strictly professional, you told yourself. His mannerisms had nothing to do with you unless they affected work.

Even with your indifference, though, the General was being... odd lately.

Jing Yuan let out an unabashed yawn as he slumped into his chair, tugging at his hair as he polished off the last of his paperwork.

For once, you thought to yourself with a huff of amusement, going through your own papers at an impressive speed. Read, approve or deny, sign, move on.

Considering he hadn't skimped on his own work, there was no real reason for you to be giving yourself early onset carpal tunnel as you typically did, but you figured it would be best to finish the work as soon as possible anyhow.

It meant less work tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, for not only you but the other Luofu staff as well.

"...ey."

Your brain tuned out all other noise as you moved past yet another proposal, flicking to the next page of your increasingly shrinking stack.

"Lady Y/N. Hello?"

You ignored the growling within your stomach. After this is done, you thought to yourself, I'll treat myself to a meal at home.

"Lady Y/N."

You jumped nearly ten feet out of your seat at the low voice whispering in your ear, clapping a hand over the side of your head as red-hot mortification set in. You glanced to your side to spot the culprit—none other than your General, Jing Yuan.

Had he just whispered into your ear?! The feeling of his warm breath still lingered.

"General!" you shouted, taking a deep breath as you tried to reel back your attitude and present yourself with decorum, as always. "I am working on these proposals, so if you could please refrain from pulling pranks, it would be much appreciated."

Jing Yuan gave you a wry smile, raising his hands innocently.

"Is part of your job description not answering to me?" he asked unfeignedly, golden eyes twinkling. "I called your name about ten times."

"Well, yes, but..." You raised a brow a moment later. "Surely not ten. I heard my name a total of twice."

"So you were listening." You heaved a sigh. Ever stubborn, he was. "Does that mean you were consciously ignoring me? My, the gall, Lady Y/N."

"Not at all, General," you assured. "Only absorbed in my duties. Now, do you need something of me?"

Jing Yuan tapped his chin, settling into the seat next to you and stretching out. He didn't get too comfortable, though, you discerned. Was he planning to head out for the night?

"Well, yes, I suppose I do. I'm sure you'll only listen if it's a direct order from me, after all."

"Of course, General. I am at your beck and call." He chose to ignore the edge of sarcasm in your voice as you resumed your proposals, trying to finish as many as you could before he announced his task.

"Lady Y/N, I'd be delighted if you would join me for a meal. Anywhere of your choosing, and it will be my treat."

"Right, of course. It will be done, General," you mused half-heartedly, before your froze in your tracks, hand stilling midway through a signature. "...Wh—"

"Fantastic. Then I will await you at the door," Jing Yuan smiled again, and you felt yourself welling up with exasperation at the cockiness displayed in it. "Please don't keep me waiting too long, Lady Y/N. Those proposals can always wait one more day, but I am short on time myself."

You were about ready to protest, dropping your pen as you nearly rose to your feet. Your face was hot.

"General, I—!"

"You wouldn't think of backing out after agreeing so openly, would you?" the white-haired man teased, and then, after contemplating for a moment, he held out a hand. "In fact, why don't we depart right now? Just so I can be sure you won't get absorbed in doing more advance work."

He had completely trapped you. You furrowed your brow in disbelief, and then heaved a deep, long sigh. Finally, after leaving him to stand and await your decision for just a few moments longer, you took his hand.

"Very well. But General, if I may..."

"Of course, my dear."

You flushed again, but remained steadfast in your words.

"To make up for this trickery, please do not skip out on your paperwork again."

Jing Yuan's low, rumbly laughter caused you to look away, lest your feelings show on your face. He still did not let go of your hand.

"I suppose that is only fair. You have a deal, Lady Y/N."

⊹ Sampo Koski

You would be completely remiss to allow anyone to refer to you and Sampo as acquaintances, much less friends.

Although the two of you had grown up fairly close, he allowed you no clemency from his constant scams.

It turned into more of a game for him as time passed, though—your natural stoicism and good head on your shoulders didn't allow any of his jabs or tricks to pull through.

That was perhaps what kept him stuck like glue to your side all these years, though... The fact that you were the one person he couldn't quite swindle.

Not that he actually wanted to, anyhow.

As much as Sampo was a slimy businessman in the eyes of pretty much everyone, he didn't seek a profit from someone as close as you. Well, not unless he did you a favor first, of course, but that's basic reciprocation.

You, on the other hand, found yourself perplexed as of late.

Sure, you had known Sampo for practically your whole life, but getting close to someone or being close by birth didn't make you any less inclined to cut them off if they interfered with your life to a degree that you found to be annoying.

You enjoyed the predictable, the mundanity of your daily life working as a trainee doctor under Natasha. You didn't need anyone in your life who might throw a wrench into the ordinary you currently enjoyed.

So why was Sampo the exception?

It was a fairly typical, ordinary, boring evening when you walked into the clinic—12am sharp, just as Natasha had requested of you. You were frankly quite lucky that she didn't ask more of you, but you supposed she was already pushing her own ability to ask favors of you by requesting you watch the overnight patients while she rested.

You didn't mind, of course. You'd always been a bit of a night owl, especially with the somewhat perpetual darkness of the Underworld thanks to Belobog looming over top of you.

Not to mention, you and Sampo had always spent most of your time together in the evenings anyways, the nighttime routine well suited to both of your sleeping schedules.

You felt a twinge of annoyance shoot through you at the thought of the blue haired man, and quickly placed a hand to your forehead between bandage changings for the patient on the table.

There he was again. Sampo, Sampo, Sampo!

Though you could usually push him out of your mind without a second thought, it was beyond you why he was suddenly popping into your brain more nowadays.

Sometimes it was a mere, 'I wonder what Sampo is up to right now. Not more trouble, I hope.'

Sometimes it was something more bordering worry, and those passing thoughts irritated you the most. What did you care? If he got hurt, it would likely be justified in the wake of one of his scams.

You could rationalize those ideas with the notion of not wanting more work at the clinic should he get injured, but even that was weak. Sampo deigned to avoid Natasha for his own wounds, not wanting to burden the leader of Wildfire, likely more out of fear than actual selflessness.

Still, though—

"Heeeey, Y/N! Miss me?"

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

"What do you want, Koski?" Your tone was flat, not even sparing him a glance as you moved to your next patient. Changing bandages again, a simple routine that could hopefully keep your mind occupied this time.

"So cold..." You could hear the beginnings of a pout on his lips, finding yourself sighing irritably. "I came to see you, after all!"

Your hands paused for a moment, stilling. A minute tremble in his voice. You whipped your head around to focus your sharp eyes on him, and he winced back, his typical happy-go-lucky smile faltering.

"H-Hey, what's the matter? Helping Miss Nat out with some late night patients aga—"

"Show me," you ordered, finishing the bandage you were currently on and standing up, moving towards Sampo with your arms crossed. He backed up, hands raised in surrender.

"Whaddya mean, I'm— Ouch!"

The conman couldn't help the yelp he let out when his back made contact with the wall, wincing painfully as his wound hit the hard surface. You raised a brow, unimpressed.

"Shirt off, Sampo Koski. Now."

"Woah, woah, at least take me to dinner first!"

Your glare worsened into something stormy as you pointed at the chair nearby.

"Sit down, shirt off, now. Don't make me repeat myself again."

With the face of a wounded puppy, Sampo slunk over to the chair, doing as you asked. He hissed through his teeth as the cloth of his outerwear dragged against the wound, the layers giving way to a deep trio of gashes on the skin of his back. Even with all your medical training, you found yourself cringing at the sight.

"So, Doc, what's the prognosis?" the man laughed weakly, still trying with his jokes even through his pain.

When you remained quiet, his smile fell, and he turned to look at you. If it were anyone else, you might've mistaken that frown for concern.

"Y/N? You... okay?"

"Be quiet," you huffed out at last, grabbing your rolling table of medical supplies and bringing it around, pulling out a chair as you began to inspect the wounds. "What was it this time?"

"Ah, you know, same old, same old! Just some disgruntled robots, not too keen on letting me make a profit with their buddy's parts!"

"You're an idiot."

The usual Sampo would've shot back with some witty or flirty one-liner that was sure to earn him a smack over the head, but when he heard the slight tremble to your voice, he decided it'd be best to keep his mouth shut for now.

"This'll sting. Don't shout, or you'll wake the other patients."

He bit his lip, expecting a harsh serving of antiseptic, but your hands were... gentler this time. You tenderly cleaned the wound with a water-soaked cloth, and though it did sting a bit, it was far nicer than your usual tough treatments from the ire he earned getting injured all the time.

Soon after, he felt you gently patting the wound down with a soft towel, bandages following soon after that you reached around his torso to wrap around him.

Then, you reached for the pack of painkillers.

Sampo was quick to laugh nervously, pushing the pack away when you held it out to him along with a glass of water.

"Hey, hey! Thanks, Y/N, but I really shouldn't be using Miss Natasha's painkillers. Besides, with how sweetly and tenderly you just patched me up, I'm feeling better already!" he fake-swooned, clasping his hands together like a maiden in love to ham up his act.

You were far from impressed.

"You're a bad liar, Sampo Koski," you scoffed, shoving the water and pills past his defensive hands. "Take it. I can't convince you to stay here and actually rest for a change, so it's the least you can do."

When he still looked apprehensive, you swallowed your pride, lowering your gaze and averting your eyes as your face went just the tiniest bit pink.

"...For me."

Sampo honestly thought he misheard you for a moment, but he finally, hesitantly, took the medicine you offered. You led him over to the door, and he laughed breathlessly, finally giving you another smile as he shrugged his shirt and coat back on.

"All right, all right. I'll get out of your hair, and take these. Just for you."

The conman cackled and ran all the way down the alleyways as you shouted after him, fist raised. Once he had disappeared, though, you let it fall to your side, sighing again.

This time, there was a hint of fondness... but that was something else you would be remiss to admit to.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

my girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother's friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

The curtains stir in the summer breeze, the smell of pollen wafting in and tickling your nose. You scrunch your face, resisting as sneeze and flip the page of the book, your eyes racing across the letters, devouring them. After another year of academia, you’re all too eager to spend your summer devouring your ‘to read’ list. 

The flick of pages marks the passage of time. You don’t sense how the sky sifts from a beaming yellow to a gentle blue. Not until the knock comes at the door and draws you from the world built of prose. You blink and lift your head, mark your page and leave it on your pillow. You push yourself across the low bed and yawn. Only as you don’t have words to read do you feel the fatigue in your eyes. 

“Peanut,” your mother calls you by the childhood nickname you can’t seem to shake, “gonna help with dinner?” 

You open the door to her and step out, “yeah, should do something.” 

“You should,” she chides playfully. “I already got the roast beef in, just need you to do sides.” 

“Great,” you shuffle down the hall behind her and rub your eyes. You don’t know if it’s allergies or reading that has you so dried out. 

Downstairs, you go into the kitchen and the aroma of the roast has your mouth watering already. In your delve into the land of fantasy, you may have forgotten to feed yourself. It’s not an uncommon occurrence; during the school year, you often studied until your head pounded and your stomach roared. The human body tends only to get in the way of the mind. 

You work at peeling potatoes as your mom takes out a medley of vegetables to put in a roasting pan. She seasons as you chop, the low murmur of her outdated music filling the hazy summer air. You can hear the children next door running around and the bristle of trees swaying in the wind. 

“Oh, make sure to throw in a few extra, pea,” she says as you go to curl over the top of the bag, “your brother’s bringing his friend.” 

“Friend? Johnny?” You wonder. 

“That man from his work, Syverson,” she corrects, “with the beard.” 

“Uh yeah, I remember.” 

You’ve met Syverson, or Sy as he prefers. Your brother, Isaac, started his apprenticeship last summer with the man down at the metal shop. There are vague instances in your mind when you recall the large bearded man sitting at the table across from you. He’s older than your brother, you too. Probably closer to your parent’s age. He doesn’t say much either but he’s polite. You think. 

You shrug and pull out some more potatoes to add to peel and cut. You do so quietly, your mind wandering back to your book even as the real world threatens to wipe it away. You’re so swept up in the fraught quest to reclaim a forgotten world that you can hardly focus on the blade. 

You blink as the knife hits the board, too close to your thumb. Pay attention. Often your mom comments that you look far away and just as often you are. Existing in this world can be so boring. Potatoes and roast beef. 

You rinse off the spuds and put them on to boil. You’ll mash them like you always do and add your mother’s ‘secret’ ingredient; herb and cheese sour cream. You’re pretty sure every mother on the block claims that as their little revolution. 

As the water starts to steam, you hear a car pull up and a louder engine behind it. Your mom checks the beef, letting out a gust of savoury air. You are starving. 

As you toss the peels in the bin, the front door opens. Isaac’s voice carries through the house as he chatters on about sparks and some work thing. Your mom’s head pops up as she waits eager for his appearance. 

He peeks into the kitchen as a pair of footsteps follow behind him. You mom greets him with a kiss, “hello, bubby, how was your day?” 

“Mom,” he scowls and wipes his cheek, “it was fine. Burnt myself pretty good.” 

He shows a bandage on his forearm and shrugs. Your mother gasp, “oh, honey!” 

“Told him to put his gauntlets on,” Syverson stands just beyond the doorway, his shadow looming like an evil orc in a cavern, waiting to pounce. You shake off the comparison as he comes into the light of the kitchen, a case of beer in hand. “Brought something for dinner,” he puts down the six-pack and shifts as you notice the red cap and label poking out from under his arm. He catches the bottle before it can slip and presents it to your mother, “and for the ladies.” 

“Oh, Syverson, you’re always so sweet.” 

“Mm, least I can do, y’all having me, feeding me,” he reaches to rub his neck. “Mind if I use the bathroom? Gotta wash my hands.” 

“Course, dear, you know where it is,” she preens. 

He leans on his back foot and his eyes glint in your direction. Despite his gruff exterior, his shaved head and thick beard, and his work-stained tee shirt, his eyes seem to sparkle, “evening,” he nods in your direction, as if he’s only just noticed you. 

“Hi,” you murmur and turn back to wash the starch from the cutting board. 

Having company is always awkward. You’re the only member of your family who isn’t very social. You have your classmates and a few friends you’ll hang out with on occasion but your parents and your brother always seem to have someone with them. If it isn’t one of your mom’s HOA accomplices, it’s one of your dad’s neighbourhood buddies arguing over the barbecue. 

You continue to tidy up as you wait for the food to be ready. You take out some plates and cutlery, wanting to distract yourself by setting the table. You stack the plates and the utensil slides around on top as you carry them into the hallway. You have to stop short as you nearly collide with Sy.  

“Sorry,” he apologises and backs up, “need help?” 

He points to your armful and you smile and shake your head, “all good.” 

“Don’t mind,” he says as he puts his large hands around the stack of plates. They’re pretty thick and heavy on their own but he takes them from you easily. 

“Um, right, then I’ll get... cups.” 

You turn back and flit into the kitchen. Your mom hums as she strains the potatoes. She doesn’t notice you counting glasses from the cupboard and balancing them all in your arms. You go down the hall, this time without obstacle, and into the dining room. You angle awkwardly to put down all the glasses at once.  

Sy lays out the plates and cutlery one at a time, certain to have each perfectly centered and straight. He focuses on the task intently. The sight of his earnest effort contrasted by his burly figure is almost silly. You plunk down the glasses at the corner of each plate, staying on the other side of the table from him. 

“Your back from school,” he says as he finishes, stepping back to cross his arms, making himself even larger. Most people are big compared to you. 

“Mhmm,” you nod with a rigid tight-lipped grin. 

“You graduate?” He asks. 

You try not to show your surprise. You’re not sure you’ve ever had a conversation with him. It’s just nods and grunts sent in your direction. Just acknowledgement. Just courtesy. 

“One more year,” you say, “erm, I’ll go help mom.” 

“Right,” he drops his arms and grips the back of the chair in front of him, “don’t let me keep ya.” 

You inch backwards and spin around, trying not to run away. It isn’t him. It’s you. It’s easier to read dialogue on a page and pretend it’s coming from your lips than it is to hold a conversation in real life. You would rather go back and finish your chapter then sit at the table and eat with your family, especially now that you’ve made it awkward. 

[wearebarca]

7. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 6,4k

A/N: Feedback is always nice. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

Rosalie knew before she opened her eyes that she wasn’t in her bed. The stiffness in her neck was indication enough, along with the slightly rough feeling of the wool blanket she kept as a decoration on her couch. An unknown alarm was blaring from her phone on the coffee table. Suddenly, the memories from the night before  started to come back to her. How good it was to be wrapped in the footballer’s arms, how warm and safe it felt. She was probably the one who set an alarm to make sure the photographer wouldn’t be late for work.  The simple thought put a smile on the woman’s face.

 A quick look around her kitchen told her that most of the dishes were put away and a cup of coffee along with a note were waiting for her on the counter. 

“ I have to bring Nala home before training. You looked too peaceful to wake up. Thank you for yesterday, I really needed it. See you at training bonita.”

Ale

The photographer took the note and pinned it on her fridge. Every time her eyes strayed to it while getting ready, she could feel butterflies fill her stomach. The brunette hopped quickly in the shower and changed into her day clothes before heading out for the training center. 

The first thing she noticed upon entering her office was the small brown paper bag which seemed to be the source of the delicious smell lingering in the room. There could only be one person responsible for such a gesture. The fluttering feel from the morning came back full swing as the photographer pulled out a fresh pastry from the bag. 

Her morning was quite slow. She had tasked some of the junior photographers to attend training to allow her to finish answering some emails and send the contend Martina was waiting on for the next social media campaign. Rosalie’s morning was surprisingly productive considering the stiffness in her neck. The only thing that pulled her out of her work induced trance was the repeated buzz of her phone. When the device kept vibrating after a good five minutes, the brunette finally checked her screen to see what was going on. She was surprised to see the nicknames of several girls from the team appear on her screen, with the first notification being “Capi has added you to the chat”. Most were welcoming the photographer to the group and the rest were discussing the team bonding night organised by Ingrid that would most likely take place two weeks from now. 

Deciding she would read everything later, she left her phone on her desk and focused on finishing a few tasks before lunch. When she arrived in the cafeteria, she was immediately called by Mapi and Ingrid to join them and the rest of their group. The brunette grabbed her food and took the last available seat, which happened to be next to the Spanish captain. 

She was leaning with her elbows on the table, her hands holding her chin up and listening intently to what Patri was saying. Only, as soon as the brunette took her seat, her focus shifted. 

« Hola, » she said with a lazy smile stretching on her lips. Patri was aware of their budding friendship, but so far had not been aware of a deeper connection blooming between the captain and the photographer. Now, with her friend who had seemingly forgotten about her in order to engage in a conversation with the Canadian, it was clear that something more was happening.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Yes, thank you, I didn’t even realize that you left this morning.” The photographer said a little embarrassed by how hard she was sleeping. They were leaning close to each other in order to keep a certain level of privacy in a table filled with their friends and colleagues. “ How did you sleep? Can’t imagine my couch would provide the best sleep.”

“I slept good actually, but I can’t say it’s because of your sofa no.” She said with a smile. 

Patri, still amazed by what was unfolding in front of her, tried to catch Pina’s attention by elbowing her in the ribs. “¿qué es?¿qué es?”

“¿desde cuando?”

“no sé” Pina said, watching the two women converse in front of her. “tengo curiosidad por saber que esta pasando”

“Le preguntaré a algunas de las chicas sobre esto.” Patri said, getting up to bring back her tray. 

The week passed on quickly for everyone. The team was preparing for their game next wednesday and the media team was working extra hard to provide the fans with fun content with their favourite players. Rosalie was able to get out of her office more, and take back her place as the main photographer present during the training sessions. More than ever, Rosalie was appreciating the little routine she had formed, but now, there was a new element present in her daily life. Every lunch, she would spend it with the team in the cafeteria, more precisely with a certain blond captain. 

As they grew closer, the rest of the team noticed the growing chemistry. With the realization came the teasing, which Alexia shot down pretty quickly. Even if these girls were her family, she did not want her private life to be the subject of discussion among them. But even with her efforts, the whole team was soon aware of the clear interest the women had for each other. 

Even with the thought of the photographer in her mind, Alexia was still dead focused on training. Her comeback after her injury had not been an easy road and the pressure of getting back to her old standards was a heavy load on her shoulders. Her appointment with the physio had been full of warnings against overtraining and focusing on a slower but safer road to full recovery. 

Alexia knew all of this. She knew that overworking herself would only slow her down in the end. But she was stubborn. The guilt she felt for her club, her teammates, the fans, who had yet to see the return of their queen, was simply too strong. 

She wasn’t surprised when Monday , two days before the game, she felt some discomfort in her knee. It wasn’t pain, yet, but it was enough to allow fear to grasp at her mind. 

Rosalie could see it from the sidelines, the anxiety slowly creeping in the blonde’s eyes. She was slower than normal, running through the drills with a carefulness she hadn’t seen her use before. She wasn’t the only one who had noticed the change in intensity. Jonatan soon after called for the captain who immediately ran to him, making a tremendous effort to hide the slight limp she had developed in the course of the session. 

Their exchange was fast. Alexia clearly seemed to want to finish this session and was arguing her case with as much intensity as she would with a ref during a game. Jonatan stayed strong, even with the captain towering over him. 

At this point, their argument had pulled the attention of several of the girls. Rosalie lowered her camera, not wanting to breach what clearly was a conversation meant to stay between player and coach. When she realized that Martina failed to show the same respect as her, she positioned herself between the pair and the head of media’s phone. 

“ I doubt this is the entertainment the fans want.” She said with a raised eyebrow. She had heard from the players how Martina could sometimes be invasive but she hasn’t seen her cross the line just yet. 

A dry laugh escaped Martina’s lips as she finally lowered her phone. “Si, si, you are right.” She said as she moved farther on the sidelines. Rosalie turned back around just in time to see Alexia storm off the pitch, leaving a discouraged Jonatan behind. 

“ Thank you Rosa.” Mapi said, approaching the photographer. “ Ale would have been livid if this came out in one of her instagram stories.” 

“Would she really?”

“ She has before.” Mapi said with bitterness in her tone. 

“ I’m starting to understand why Alexia is so wary of the media team.” Rosalie made a move towards the tunnel but was stopped by a hand on her wrist. 

“I know you want to make sure she’s alright, but for now Ale needs a minute to process.” Mapi said with a sad smile. Rosalie knew the Spanish woman was right, and she could not just leave practice to go comfort the captain. 

“ Oui, oui I understand.” She said, picking back up her camera. The rest of the practice seemed to drag on to no end for the photographer who wanted nothing more than to see how the blonde was doing. 

Once training was over, Rosalie learned that Alexia had been sent to the physios to assess the situation. Not wanting to disturb the professional, she went back to her office to work in the editing of the pictures she had taken. 

Once again, her afternoon seemed a lot slower than usual, and for one of the first times since she had started this job, Rosalie left her office at the same time as the rest of the staff. 

Lucy and Keira could not believe their eyes when they saw the Canadian walk out of the building. 

“Are you feeling alright Frenchy?” Keira asked, almost worried for her friend.  

“Oui oui, I just thought finishing early would hurt once in a while.”

“Who are you?” Lucy asked, grabbing the younger woman by the shoulders. 

“Non mais voyons lâches moi.” The brunette said, laughing loudly. 

“Wanna come by for dinner? We could watch a movie or something.” Keira asked, happy to finally have the opportunity to finally spend some time with her best friend. 

“Sure! That’s a great idea!” They all walked together in the parking lot, discussing what they would watch, when a specific dark grey cupra caught the attention of the photographer. 

“Isn’t that Alexia’s car?”

“Yeah, I thought she left at the same time as the rest of us.” Lucy said, checking her watch. At this time, the medical staff had already left and no one was left in the gym. 

“I hope she’s ok.” Rosalie said as she came to a stop half way to her car. Lucy and Keira could practically see the dilemma forming in the younger woman’s head. They knew that she would not ditch them, even if her heart was telling her to go see the Catalonian.

“Go.” Lucy decided for her. Rosalie sent a thankful look towards the couple as she turned around and almost dashed to the training center. 

She let her instincts guide her to the pitch, where she found the blond sitting alone on a ball. She  took a seat next to her. They stayed silent for a while, until the blonde was ready to talk 

“I am not playing on Wednesday.” The blonde said, her gaze not leaving the pitch. “They want to prevent further deterioration.”

The brunette shuffled closer to the footballer. “Can you still train?”

“ In the gym, yes, and light drills.” She said sadly. 

Rosalie took a second to take in the footballer's sad features. With her foot, she kicked the ball slightly under Alexia, just hard enough to make her lose balance and slide to the floor. As soon as the ball was free, Rosalie dashed down the pitch to the nearest goal and sent the ball in the top right corner. When she turned back towards the blond, she was still sitting on the floor with a very cute and confused expression. 

“Come on! What are you gonna do about that?” The photographer yelled arms in the air with what Alexia thought was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. 

“Are you scared of an amateur, La Reina?” Rosalie knew she had her now. Alexia got up and slowly jogged to the goal to retrieve the ball. She kicked it in the brunette’s direction and stood a few feet away from her. 

“ I just know that you  are no amateur Rosalia.” She said with a soft smile. 

As soon as the brunette touched the ball, Alexia’s whole demeanour changed. Her face was the epitome of focus and her whole body tensed, revealing her taut muscles. The sight was intimidating to say the least, but Rosalie was not going to let the opportunity to show off a little pass. 

She dashed forward, ball at her feet, pulling all the tricks she could think of. She was fast, but Alexia seemed to be able to predict her every move and soon enough, the photographer ended up on her ass, no ball in sight. 

A loud laugh was heard behind her. She turned around to see Alexia with one foot on the ball, seemingly trying very hard to keep her composure. 

“ You’re fast, and skilled, but a tiny bit predictable.” She said, offering a hand to pull the photographer up. 

“Rematch.” Was all the photographer said as she took the ball from the blond and positioned herself once again. Alexia smiled at the brunette’s eagerness. She had found someone as competitive as her. 

They were at it for  almost an hour, with Rosalie successfully scoring a grand total of seven times against Alexia who blocked at least twelve attempts.

 Rosalie, unsatisfied with these statistics, almost begged the footballer for one last attempt. Whoever won this, would win the whole game. 

“ I think I have you now Reina.” Rosalie said with a cheeky smile. 

“ Don’t get so cocky now bonita, I won’t go easy on you.” The nickname made the photographer blush furiously, but she refused to let it distract her. She finally launched her attack , but Alexia’s response was so fast Rosalie wasn’t even able to register what was happening. She was left standing alone in the field while Alexia was already halfway across the pitch, sending the ball in a perfect arc in the opposite goal. 

Rosalie sat on the grass and let herself fall on her back dramatically, arms in a cross. Alexia retrieved the ball and ran back to the photographer, flopping down almost on top of her. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, but she made no move to get out from under the blond. 

“ I think it is safe to say that I won.” Alexia said, still laughing. No answer came from the brunette, who was too mesmerized by the blond’s eyes and the feeling of her weight on top of her. 

Her smile softened as her eyes shifted to the captain’s lips. Alexia seemed to finally notice the position they were in, as well as how little space separated the two. She could feel the rapid pulse of the photographer, which matched her own. The pull was magnetic, and every second passing seemed to eat away at the woman’s resolve. 

They did not know who reached for who first, their movements almost synchronized. 

Her lips were even softer than Rosalie had imagined. They fit perfectly on her own and it felt like something had just clicked. She could feel the tension in the captain’s body slowly fade away, as if she was melting in their embrace. The shift of weight brought the delicious feeling of the footballer’s body moving on her, which pulled a small moan from the brunette. 

The sound caught Alexia’s attention. She smiled into the kiss, which made the smaller woman pull away slightly. When she saw the happy expression on the footballer’s face, she smiled and angled her head away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the blond. Alexia’s hand came up and caressed the photographer’s cheek before diving back in for a slow kiss. The contrast between Alexia’s callous hands and her soft lips made the photographer’s head spin. 

They pulled away when oxygen became an issue. Alexia thought, as she looked at the smaller woman who’s pupils were blown and lips swollen from their kiss, she realized that she needed to see more of this blissed out version of the photographer. 

Rosalie’s expression changed, mistaking Alexia’s silence for regret. “I’m so sorry I didn’t want to overstep I’m…” she was interrupted by the feeling of the blonde’s lips back on her. 

“ Don’t apologize, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” She said with a smile. They got back up and retrieved their bags. None of them uttered a word as they walked back to their car, content in the comfortable silence. Alexia stopped next to the photographer’s car, holding the door open for Rosalie. 

“Thank you,” Alexia said with a shy smile. “I needed this.”

“Which one, the game or the kiss?”

“I think it’s safe to say both.” She said with a grin. 

Rosalie had a love-hate relationship with her phone. She liked the convenience of having a decent camera always with her, but she hated the constant buzzing and being bombarded by text and notifications. She kept her phone on silent outside of work hours.

 If she had it on, she would have seen the notification of a new instagram story on the club’s account. She would have seen that she had been tagged in it, along with Alexia’s account. She would have seen the massive wave of messages flooding her dms. 

Instead, it was in her bed , when she reached for her phone in order to set her alarm, that she realized exactly how invasive the head of social media could really be. 

The video wasn’t too bad really. It captured the moment of the photographer’s fall after she had lost to the captain and Alexia toppling on her a few moments later. To anyone else, it simply looked like two friends having fun after a long day at work but to the women’s football community, it was a lot more. 

Emotions flooded the brunette all at once. Never would she have thought that her privacy would be so easily exposed to the world. She never wanted to be thrusted into the spotlight, and all this attention made all the color drain from her face. 

The feeling only grew much worse when Rosalie thought of Alexia. She knew how the blonde felt about her life being exposed to the public eye. 

Rosalie didn’t sleep that night, and the consequences were very visible the next morning when she pulled up at the training center. She had ignored all of Ingrid and Mapi’s numerous calls and texts, and only answered a thumbs up to Lucy and Keira’s worried messages. 

For the brunette, it was impossible to think about anything else than Alexia’s reaction to all this. The facility was quieter than usual, due to the fact that Rosalie had opted to arrive later to avoid crossing paths with anyone. Surprisingly, Ingrid was sitting in the lobby, and got up as soon as she saw the Canadian enter. 

Rosalie froze and didn’t move when the Norwegian made a move to hug her. «How are you? »

« Worried.» the photographer said in a small voice. « My phone won’t stop buzzing. »

The raven hair girl tightened her hold before letting go and grabbing her arm to start guiding the brunette down the corridor. 

 « The media team and the coaches have called a meeting to deal with the situation. Alexia is there as well. »

« How is she? »

« Very angry. » Ingrid said. She panicked a little as she saw her friend’s face fall. « Not at you Rosy! She’s in this state mainly because this time, Martina dragged someone dear to her in this mess. »

Rosalie blushed slightly at that and stayed silent for the rest of the walk. They arrived in front of a room where loud and rapid Spanish conversations could be heard through the closed door. Ingrid sent an encouraging look to the photographer before pushing her inside the room. 

Inside was a long table where Jonatan, Sara, Marcelo, Martina, Alexia and another man she did not recognize were all sitting. The room went quiet as the Canadian entered. Jonatan got up and smiled at the nervous photographer. 

« Bon dia Rosalie, take a seat. » he said motioning to the open seat next to Sara, which happened to be right across Alexia. Just like Ingrid had said, the captain looked livid, anger overtaking all of her features, making her look cold and almost Dangerous. 

« Hey, I’ll translate if it gets too fast.” Rosalie sent a grateful nod her way, but when the conversation started back, they had switched to English to make sure the photographer would follow. 

“ As I was saying, it is simply unacceptable to use the player’s personal life to promote the club. Let’s not forget that this video was taken outside of training hours and I am certain none of the girls gave their consent to post this.” Jonatan said, turning to Rosalie to confirm his statement. 

“ I never gave my consent, nor was even aware of being filmed during that time.” She said in a shaky voice. 

“ But you were at the training centre. That makes it ok to film since what happens inside these walls is club business.” Martina said, clearly trying to justify her actions. “ It was a wholesome moment that attracted a lot of attention to the club.” She added. 

Every word coming out of the woman’s mouth seemed to chip away at Alexia’s patience. She decided that she had been silent long enough and it was time to show just how angry she truly was. 

“ Attention? You exposed us for attention? You forcefully pulled Rosalie at the forefront of an obsessed fan base who’s been harassing us for the last 12 hours, for attention?” She said, the sound of her voice getting louder and more aggressive with every word. 

“You don’t realize the impact your actions have on other people. As players, we know that we are constantly being watched and that our lives are but a source of entertainment for others. But Rosalia never asked for any of this. She doesn't deserve this violation of her privacy.” She added, sending a look in the photographer’s way. One that greatly reassured the brunette. Alexia was trying to protect her. 

“We are tired of the abuse the head of social media  has perpetuated and the team, along with the coaches, ask management to take action against the perpetrators.” Alexia sat back in her chair. The rest of the table was silent, waiting to see who would dare speak after Alexia’s declaration. 

Finally, the man Rosalie did not know coughed a little and spoke in spanish, too fast for Rosalie to be able to understand properly. 

“He said that from now on, Marcelo would be acting as head of social media and that every post Matina would prepare would have to be approved beforehand.” Sara whispered to the brunette. She turned just in time to see Martina’s face fall and Alexia’s smirk appear. 

“There is still the matter of the video itself.” Marcelo said, pulling out his computer. “Millions of people have already seen it. Taking it down now would only attract more attention to it.” He said, turning his screen so they could all see the statistics. 

“ The response is mainly positive and Alexia told me that the messages she’s been receiving are mostly positive.” The new head of socials turned towards the photographer. “ What about you?”

“I haven’t read anything really, but none of my notifications stood out.” She said pulling out her phone and opening the app for the first time since the night before. 

“ So it seems that for now, most people see this as the friendship we all know you two have. This is good. I think that the best course of action would be to leave it up, and simply continue our posting habits as usual, but featuring the other players more.” He said with confidence. 

“ We need to give the fans something else to focus on. We can post a fun interview from media day today along with an update on our injured players.” The solution seemed like a good  plan to the rest of the staff who all agreed and stood up. The man Rosalie had yet to know the name walked out first, followed closely by Martina who looked dead set on trying to explain her point of view. The fact that she seemed incapable of understanding what she had done was wrong baffled the brunette. She really did not regret her actions and Rosalie was starting to think that her consequences weren’t harsh enough. 

From the corner of her eye, the photographer saw Alexia abruptly stand up and bolt out of the room. Her instinct told her to follow, and she was glad she did because she arrived just in time to see Alexia trap Martina against the wall. 

“¿Viste algo más anoche?” She asked in a low, menacing voice. Her tone gave Rosalie chills, and she didn’t know if it was because of fear or something else. 

“No, me fui justo después, lo juro.” Martina said, visibly shaken by the taller woman’s action. Alexia released her and stormed out towards the locker room. When Rosalie passed her, she sent a strange look her way, as if she was trying to see something that would have evaded her keen snooping skills. 

Her gaze made the photographer feel uncomfortable as she quickened her steps. She pushed the door of the locker room and found Alexia, head in her hands, sitting at her cubicle. 

“Ale…” At the sound, the captain’s gaze met her own and Rosalie saw for the first time how Alexia truly felt about the whole ordeal. Fear and panic was visible in her hazel eyes as she stood up to pace around the room. 

“You shouldn’t be in here.” She said, eyes to the floor. “If someone sees…”

“Everyone is on the pitch, it's ok.” Rosalie could see Alexia getting agitated , so she decided to take a seat in the closet cubicle to her, on the opposite side of the room. 

“I knew this would happen. It’s always the same thing with your team.” She said, still pacing.

“My team?” Rosalie said incredulously. 

“Si, you can’t stop putting your nose in other’s lives and it’s hell for the rest of us.” Alexia said, stopping in her tracks to look at the brunette. 

Rosalie was too stunned to speak. Her expression was a mix of hurt and sadness that broke the captain’s heart as soon as she saw it. 

Rosalie knew that Alexia was angry and it was this anger that pushed her to say these things, but she couldn’t help how bad she felt after hearing it. 

“ I thought you knew I wasn’t like this. I would never breach your privacy like this.” 

“ I know, I know.” Alexia said, trying to calm down. “Maybe we should just be colleagues,” she said in a small voice, incapable of looking the photographer in the eyes. She knew that if she did, she would cross the room and take the smaller woman in her arms, apologize and tell her that everything would be alright. 

“Is that what you really want?” 

“Si.” 

“Then there’s nothing I can do but respect your decision.” Rosalie said in a sad voice. She turned around and walked out of the locker room, leaving Alexia alone. 

As soon as the brunette left, Alexia sat back down. She felt like her legs weren’t able to carry her anymore. Her hands were shaking and a heavy feeling lingered in her heart. 

She knew that what she had just done was cold, but it was the only way she could protect her from the scrutiny of the public eye. She knew Rosalie was like her, a very private person and the moment the photographer crossed the threshold of the confederation room, she could see from how small she looked, how much this was affecting her. Distancing herself from the French-Canadian was the only option to keep Rosalie, and herself, out of the spotlight. 

When she finally mustered up the strength to get out on the pitch, her eyes immediately scanned the field for the family silhouette of the brunette. She only found one of the other photographers and the rest of the media team. Thankfully, Martina was nowhere in sight. 

Alexia walked to the huddle in the center of the pitch and took a spot next to Lucy. The woman turned around and sent a glare her way, almost frightening the captain. The rest of practice was hell for the midfielder. She made mistake after mistake, missing targets on her passes and unable to complete plays that she usually had no difficulty doing.    

She simply could not stop thinking about how it all went down this morning. She knew that it would be hard to stay away from the photographer, especially now that the feeling of the woman’s soft lips was ingrained in her mind, but she had not planned feeling this sort of withdrawal so soon. 

As soon as the photographer reached her office, the tears that were threatening to fall ran down her cheeks. It was all too much at the same time for the woman. Her phone blowing up with various messages from fans, her anger towards the former head of social media, Alexia’s rejection and the workload that came a few days before a match, was simply more than what she could handle emotionally. 

So Rosalie did what she always did when it became too much. She buried herself in her work and training. She spent her whole day barricaded in her office, arranging the photoshoot schedule for the next month and working on the fan project. She skipped lunch and stayed well after the last staff member had left. She ignored the messages from Lia and Leah who had seen the story and wanted to know if their friend was alright, and sent a quick answer to Lucy, who she had briefly talked to before hiding in her office. She needed to be alone, isolate herself from the world for a bit. 

Having the match here in Barcelona came as a relief for Rosalie who didn’t have to take the team bus or interact with anyone before the actual match. She had tasked the other photographers to take the arrival pictures and was able to receive and edit them in her office while everyone was preparing. 

With Alexia on the bench, Rosalie found her job sligh harder than normal due to the piercing gaze she could feel on her back. It took every ounce of self control to not turn and meet her gaze head on. She knew that if she did, she would forgive the blond for the harsh words she had said. So she focused on her job, and did not linger on the pitch once the team secured the win. 

The rest of the week stayed more or less the same for the French-Canadian. Wake up, run, breakfast, work, strength training, sleep then repeat.  She had declined coffee with Ingrid and Mapi and had yet to decide if she was going to show up at the team bonding night, which was scheduled in 3 days. 

All week she could see, as well as the rest of the team, that Alexia was clearly not in the right mindset. Her temper was short and she easily lost her patience when training wasn’t going the way she wanted. The whole team had come to fear the blonde and simply did not know how to approach their captain. 

When it became clear that Alexia’s mood wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Mapi decided that it was time to have a talk. Which is why, when the midfielder was sulking all alone on the sidelines, she was swiftly grabbed by the jersey and dragged in the stands.

 From their spot, they could see the rest of the girls doing drills and for a moment, Alexia was able to take a breath. She had loved watching her teammates practice when she herself could not play. She used to close her eyes and visualize herself back in the field. But for now, she was focused on the reason why her friend had dragged her in the stands in the middle of training. 

The tattooed woman stayed silent while she kept looking at the blonde in the eyes. 

“What?”

“You are going to talk to me now.”

“What about?” Alexia knew exactly what Mapi was hinting at, but she still tried to act confused. 

“ You know exactly what I’m talking about, now spill.” Mapi said with a stern expression. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s the same thing every time any of us gets close to someone. We get exposed and our whole lives are scrutinized. I don’t want this and I am pretty sure she doesn’t want that either.”

“You are scared.”

“No.”

“Alexia, you can’t let this dictate your life.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t be distracted by all this. I can’t have people think football is not my priority.”

“They won’t. Ale you are human, you are allowed to have a life outside of football. We all saw you with her. You haven’t been this happy in a long time.” Mapi said, trying to reason with her friend. She could see that beneath this facade, the woman was simply scared to allow herself to thrive outside of football.

“It’s too late now, she probably doesn’t want anything to do with me anyway.” Alexia said.

“ I know for a fact that isn’t true. She cares about you too Alexia. Make it right.” Mapi got up and made her way down the stairs, leaving Alexia alone to think. She knew her friend was right, and she knew that the true motivation behind her decision to cut ties was fear, but the feeling was still so potent that the blond could simply not allow herself to act on her emotions. 

Alexia did not go back to practice, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the photographer who was currently dying under the harsh Spanish sun. Even after last week, the brunette still caught herself seeking out the captain on the pitch. She shook her head and tried to focus back on her job, but the heat combined with the exhaustion caused by her excessive training and lack of proper sleep was a deadly combination. 

One second she was up, the next she was on her ass with her head on her knees, concentrating hard on staying conscious. The first to notice was Lucy, who bolted across the pitch, followed closely by Sara and Kiera. 

The last thing the photographer saw was Lucy crouching down in front of her, and the feeling of her hand on her forehead before the world went black. 

Rosalie woke up in Sarah's office with her head pounding and vision blurred. As soon as she opened her eyes, Lucy was all over her, making sure that the girl had everything she needed. The older English woman managed, after some arguing, to convince Rosalie to take the rest of the week off, since she had already finished her work and the rest of the photography team could manage without her just fine for two days. 

A knock suddenly echoed in the room and a silhouette blocked the frosted glass of the door. Lucy stood up from the chair and opened the door slightly before sliding out once realizing who was at the door. Rosalie could not clearly see who was at the door, but she could hear the faint sound of talking 

“Lucia I just want to know if she is ok.” 

“ I’m telling you she’s fine. It’s just exhaustion Alexia you can relax.” Rosalie could hear a long exhale that most likely came from the blonde. 

“Alexia, if you care about her so much why did you treat her like this.” Lucy asked. The captain stayed silent, but Lucy learned a lot more from the blond’s silence than any word could explain. 

“Make it right ale.” Lucy said, echoing the words Mapi had said to her just a few hours prior. 

Rosalie heard some footsteps and soon after, the door opened softly and a disheveled blond head poked through. Once she saw that the brunette was awake, Alexia realized that she had not planned what she would say to the photographer. 

“Hey..” Her voice was so hushed and shy that Rosalie almost didn’t hear it. 

“You can come in, you don’t have to hover at the door.”

“I won’t disturb you too long. I just wanted to see if you were ok.” She said, finally stepping in the room. 

“Just a bit dizzy still, but I’m fine.” She said,

“Good.” She stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around the room unable to look the brunette in the eyes. 

“I am sorry about the things I said. I was stressed and did not think before speaking.” Alexia finally said, taking  the few steps separating her from the chair next to the exam chair. 

“It’s ok, it was the stress talking, I can understand that this kind of pressure is hard to deal with.” The younger woman said. She couldn’t deny that the initial reaction had hurt her but after a while, especially after seeing the echo it had online, she was able to understand why one would react like that. “ But I want you to know that I don’t appreciate how you blamed me and my profession for someone else’s actions.” 

Rosalie could excuse the reaction, but this part still stung. “ I am not like that, I respect and value the privacy of every player in this team.”

“I know. I am truly sorry.” The brunette offered a smile which was answered by Alexia’s shy one.

“ Do you need me to drive you home?” Alexia offered.

“Thank you but Lucy has that covered I think.” 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Alexia asked with the slightest bit of hope in her voice.

“ I think I’ll take the next two days off and work from home if they need me.” 

“ But I’ll be there at team bonding night on Friday. The girls won’t let me miss it after disappearing on them these past two weeks.” She added when she saw the blond’s shoulder fall at her previous statement.

“ Good, I am glad you are ok Rosalia.” Alexia said, standing up and making her way to the door. “ I would like it if we could start over, be friends again.” The blond added.

“ I think we can do that.” Rosalie said with a smile.

“ Ok, you take care of yourself Rosalie please.” Alexia said before walking out of the room, leaving Rosalie alone, feeling the best she had all week.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted, Chapter 1: Unarmed, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: (For this part only) Following the events of CA:CW, Tony Stark has offered Steve Rogers an olive branch of sorts to bring The Avengers back together. You, CTO of Stark Industries and head of Innovation & Technology for the Avengers' Initiative, have your doubts, as you're not quite ready to forgive Captain America for ripping your family apart just yet. Steve had one condition, however, when agreeing to return to the team, one that's going to turn your life upside down and inside out: If he's coming back to join The Avengers, he's bringing his best friend, Bucky Barnes, with him.

Warnings: (For this part only) Language (obviously), minor mention of alcohol, I'm obviously on Team Tony during the CW; don't come for me, awful jokes, minor use of (Y/N). As always, if I missed any, please let me know.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Here's a little preview of Unwanted. In it's current form, it's standing at about 50k words, with about 25k still in editing, and I'm maybe about half done with writing the entire thing? I'm not going to lie, it starts out cute and fluffy, but it's gonna get real angsty and painful. Dear Reader has unresolved emotional trauma and Bucky doesn't understand the importance of boundaries in 21st century relationships. This piece has been my baby for several months now; I really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you'd like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.

Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.

"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."

You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"

"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.

Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."

"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."

You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"

Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.

Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.

"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.

"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.

"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."

"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.

Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark  was Tony Stark, but now he was just Tony-- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly,  whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.

The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.

So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.

"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."

Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"

"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?

"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."

You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.

Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."

"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.

"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."

"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.

You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.

Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.

"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded. And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.

Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle. 

Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.

He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.

But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.

Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.

"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.

But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.

"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.

"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.

Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.

"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."

"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."

Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.

"What the hell kind of name is Pocket?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.

"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky?"

"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.

"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"

"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."

You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."

There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.

It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.

"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."

"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."

Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.

You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."

Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."

You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.

Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.

Next Part ->

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Do Ghost and Jade's kids don't know about their careers (or in Jade's case, former career)? Cause the comic you made of Andrew seeing Ghost in the middle of the night sorta implies they don't know about their parents' military background.

HMMM HM HM Good catch right there 👀👀

So this is also a part of what I've been thinking inside the Riley family after they have kids.

- I feel like the kids would definitely know about Simon's career as a soldier. BUT, as they are still in their early teens, I'd imagine that Andrew, Gracie, and later Orion know that their dad is a soldier, but that's the extent of their knowledge. They do know about Simon's nickname "Ghost", but they don't know how Simon operates inside the Task Force, they're not aware that their dad is an officer of one of the most elite and dangerous task force in the world. As far as they know, their dad only has edgy hobbies that involves black outfits and skull/skeleton themed. Heck, they even made fun of his preferences in outfits.

- But dear God, they never saw him in a full-on combat gear, in the dark of the night.

- Ghost is an officer, so day by day, he'd left the house with open face, and only wears the mask inside the car. After work day, he'd take off the mask before entering the house. If he's too tired, he'd try to sneak in in the deep of the night without making a sound. He'd sworn to himself that 'Ghost' will never enter his family and children's house/lives. They do not need trouble and his dangerous line of work to enter the one thing he cherishes the most.

- However, once you have kids, you can't hide anything forever. They'll find out by themselves (in this case, Andrew is entering his puberty and needs some midnight munchies). Simon and Lottie knows this, so they already have everything figured out. What would Andrew's reaction be, what would Gracie's reaction be, what would Orion's reaction be. They've discussed what they'd reveal, and what they'd still keep a secret, again, until they're old enough to know. They tread VERY carefully about it.

- About their mother though, that's a whole different story. After their marriage, Jade has strictly commited to be a mother for her kids, and opened a branch of The Garden in Herefordshire. She's an ✨ entrepreneur ✨. She's not that active to be called into deployment as before she had kids. If she's used to be 60% florist and 40% TF141 ally, after she had kids she'd be 98% Mum and Florist, and 2% TF141 Ally. Her kids literally only knows her as a florist, and that's it. Up until their late teens, Andrew, Gracie, and Orion would have no clue nor idea about her past with MI6. She didn't lie, she's just holding the truth until they're big enough to understand.

- In fact, Ghost BEGGED and asked Jade to not be active inside the TF141 or any conflicts anymore, considering Ghost would be deployed a lot (and how he's promoted to Captain and above), he'd want his wife to be with her kids. Jade herself also agreed, but she also told Ghost to not die and do stupid stuff. Even though married and less involved in the TF141 business, her resolve stayed the same. If he's missing, she'd pick up the guns in a heartbeat.

- Now, back to the kids. I'd imagine that because of how eventful each of Simon and Lottie's lives are, it sort of like become a game to the family. Each birthdays of the kids, Simon has established a "3 Question" rule game, where the kids can ask their parents anything about their lives. From Andrew and Orion, it's usually trivial and simple stuffs like "What's the naughtiest things you've ever done" "What's your favorite bla bla bla". HOWEVER, with Gracie, its always "What's your favourite mission?" "What's the worst condition of a dead body you've ever find?" "Who's the most difficult bad man you've ever encountered?" "Where is he now?"

- Ghost and Jade would answer with only two sentences. Looking at each other for approval. Gracie is most definitely Simon's daughter with that line of questioning. BUT, again, with every birthdays, and with their increasing age and they become more mature, they'll reveal everything bit after bit.

- By the time they finally know everything about their parents, they'd be in college years, probably, and Simon would no longer be the Ghost (he might be one of the higher ranked officer at this point), and Lottie would be completely out of the Task Force 141 game, becoming a regular civilian. Still, it'd be a legendary story to tell.

WOOHOO I kinda yapped a bit there, but hope that answer your question!

[cupid-eclipse]

Unrequited Love (F!Reader x Price)

A bit of angst

   Summary: Reader has been a member of the 141 for so long, long enough that she's loved her Captain for more than 2 years. But is she allowed to be with someone in the military, let alone her own Captain?

A/N: Reader's nickname is Lass. It's not reader's real name.

    "Mornin', Lass." Gaz yawned, reaching for a glass cup before putting it on the coffee dispenser. "How'd your sleep go?"

    "Fine, I guess," You sighed before giving him a small smile. "Ay, what's with the sad face?" Gaz raised his eyebrows, looking directly at you while grabbing his cup of coffee before wincing and letting go of the cup onto the table immediately.

    "Ow! Why's it hot?!" You watched as he shook his hand a few times to loosen the pain. "Of course it is; you didn't use the holder to grab the cup!" You chuckled slowly, watching Gaz's movements.

  "Lass?" While you were having fun watching Gaz, a voice calling your name from behind made you freeze. You knew who that voice belonged to all too well. Turning around, you saw Price watching your movements intently. "My office, please." He ordered–pleaded, you fought with your own thoughts. His voice sounded too soft—unusually soft—for it to not be a plea.

    You turned around again to look at Gaz, giving him one last smile before standing up from your seat and following Price to his office. Upon arriving, you took a small, deep breath before entering his office with him as he closed the door behind you and walked in front of you.

    "...Why'd you wanna see me?" You spoke first. Price stood a few meters away from you, but not too far away for you to not be able to reach him with your hands.

    "...I realized you've been acting a little... off lately. Your performances have dropped both in training and on missions. I rarely even see you eating, as if you're in distress. Mind to share it with me?" Price spoke softly, his gaze searching yours.

    You gave him a tired smile before replying. "I'm okay." You reassured him. "I guess I'm just stressed with work."

    "Stressed with work to the point you've not eaten anything for two days?" Price exclaimed. "Don't act like I don't know. I've been watching your movements these past few days, and I noticed all of the untouched food on your plate. You didn't even drink a single drop of water!"

    "I know work can be tiring, but that's no excuse for you to neglect yourself. And I know you've been skipping sleep, too." Price said, his voice full of worry and concern. "Please, tell me what's wrong." He begged.

    "...what are we?" You muttered quietly, looking down to the floor. "What?" Price breathed, his eyes searching yours. "What are we, Captain John Price?" You spoke, calling him by his full name.

    "Are we really just "superiors" and "comrades"? Do you really not have any feelings for me?" You said it, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've been acting like this because of you, Captain. You're the reason for my behavior right now." You confessed.

    "..." Price looked at you before giving you a small smile. "...I do feel the same way, Lass. But you do know it's not allowed for us to be in a relationship here in the milita–"

    "Then why did you kiss me that day? To give me false hope?" You interrupted, looking up at him intently. "To play with my feelings and then break my heart? Is that it?"

    "Lass, please—don't go there." Price warned softly. "Go where? I'm right, aren't I? You only kissed me to play with my feelings. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here today."

    "I know it's wrong, Captain, but if you really do feel the same way about me, then you would try. But I'm not seeing your efforts." You sobbed. "I've loved you for so long, and when you kissed me that day, I thought my dreams were finally coming true. That I could finally be with you. Yet I was wrong." You avoided his gaze, turning around before twisting the door handle and opening the door.

    "I hope you know that what you did really broke me." You said this before walking out of his office and closing the door to his face before he could run after you.

Part 2?

[calliecat93]

Balance of Terror is probably, up to that point, Kirk in his most perilous situation. It is full battle mode where if he makes so much as one wrong move, he risks death. Not too mention potential war against an enemy that he knows little to nothing about. Thus, for the vast majority of the episode, we have Kirk in Full On Captain Mode... except for one scene.

It's been hours now since the battle against the Romulans has started. At this moment, the Enterprise is a sitting duck and all that they can do is wait. Which gives Kirk plenty of time with his thoughts and in turn, his doubts. Doubts that he cannot let anyone see under any circumstances. Even when Rand, his personal Yeoman who has seen him at his best and worst, comes to see if he needs anything, the mask stays put. There's no point in bombarding her with what he's feeling internally and freak her out. That's not a luxury that he's allowed.

Well... save for one person.

As soon as McCoy walks in and Rand leaves? Kirk is noticeably more at ease. You can even see Rand realize it and leave, allowing McCoy to help the Captain when she clearly isn't going to get anywhere.

It's only then that Kirk feels comfortable talking and letting his doubts be visible. It's the one vulnerable moment that he lets show in the episode, feeling the pressure as his men to look at him and the fear of what happens if he's wrong. If you think back to The Corbomite Manuver we had a similar moment where McCoy tried to talk to Kirk, but while Kirk was at more ease, he didn't want to hear it nor did he let himself really open up. He doesn't even use Bones then, which sure it's probably because they hadn't thought of the nickname yet, but in-show you can interpret it as Kirk remaining in professional mode even to the guy who has it in his job description to see to his mental health.

Not that McCoy is there just because it's his job, of course.

From what we can tell, McCoy went to Kirk on his own volition. He wasn't called or anything, he went to go make sure that Kirk was doing okay. He's been in Sickbay for the majority of the episode and hasn't exactly been able to make time to go check on the Bridge Crew, especially not Jim. Now that he can, he's just there to let Kirk air out whatever he's been bubbling in for so many hours , as he always does.

But Kirk doesn't need McCoy, his Chief Medical Officer and essentially therapist, right now. And he clearly needs more than a soundboard to vent his feelings to. What Jim needs is Bones, his best friend and confidant. You even have McCoy, once Kirk's done talking, start to go 'Captain I-" before he's cut off, still somewhat in that professional mode (maybe even remembering the last time he spoke out of line in a tense situation ala The Corbomite Manuever). That's not what's needed. Kirk didn't expect an answer, but McCoy stops him. He outright says that he normally doesn't talk to 'a customer' like he is now, which goes to show how much he views Jim as far more than a patient or as the captain of the ship. Kirk is, first and foremost, his friend, and he needs some kind of reassurance right then and there.

And that's exactly what he gives.

MCCOY: But I've got one. Something I seldom say to a customer, Jim. In this galaxy, there's a mathematical probability of three million Earth-type planets. And in all of the universe, three million million galaxies like this. And in all of that, and perhaps more, only one of each of us. Don't destroy the one named Kirk.

Just that bit of assurance and Kirk is good to go. And I think he needed it from Bones specifically. Bones, the one person that Kirk can really be himself around. The one person who he's allowed to be vulnerable around. The one person who has always been there to ease him and help him process his feelings, as we've seen already in episodes like The Enemy Within. And even with McCoy worried himself, even having voiced concern about the gamble that Jim is taking earlier in the episode, he still trusts him and has faith in him. And unlike The Corobomite Manuever where he provoked an argument and had his priorities skewed, McCoy knows what Kirk does and doesn't need right now, and he delivers.

IDK, I just love these two so much and I need to voice it for the world cause dang it, someone has to!

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter Eleven: All at Sea

*mood board by the lovely @janaispunk. divider by the equally lovely @saradika-graphics

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI. Angst, cursing, overthinking. Poor Reader is having a week. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). No use of y/n, though reader is of British descent and has the nickname Brit (occasionally used). Chapter names are nautical phrases.

a/n: I know fuck all about concussion treatments or medical care in general. Also, everything I know about yachting I learned by watching Below Deck.

Series masterlist

“Tommy! What the fuck happened?” Joel’s thundering voice carried across the deck, causing Tommy to flinch before his shoulders hunched stiffly. He’d never seen his brother move so fast, covering the distance at lightning speed until he knelt at your side, one large, hesitant hand hovering over your unconscious form yet refusing to give in and touch you.

Struck silent at the expression on his brother’s face, Tommy stared between the two of you. He’d never seen Joel so distraught, love and regret shining in the man’s watery chocolate eyes. He looked on the verge of tears seeing you hurt and unable to do anything about it.

“What happened?” Joel asked again, voice quieter this time, yet no less distraught.

“She fell as we were moving the kayaks. It was an accident,” Jake explained before Tommy could, and Joel’s dark eyes snapped to the deckhand with a sharp glare before shifting back to you, then Tommy. An unspoken conversation happened between the brothers before Tommy turned to Jake.

“Jake, would you find Ellie and finish the evening duties? We’ll handle this.” Jake looked like he wanted to refuse the order, glancing between the captain and the bosun a few times before turning on his heel without response. Once he was clear of earshot, Tommy spoke plainly, one hand grasping Joel’s shoulder. “Listen, Joel. She’s been a wreck all week, distracted and completely unlike herself. This was clearly an accident, but it never would have happened if…”

Jaw clenching, Joel swallowed roughly. “I know. This is my fault.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying… ugh, I don’t know what I’m saying. I just know that things like this don’t happen to her, and I don’t like seeing her confused and hurt over something you did. Brit all but shut down this week because of you.” Tommy didn’t want to hurt his brother any more than necessary, but he needed him to see sense. Joel was just as much of a wreck as you were, he just had more opportunity to hide it tucked away on the bridge.

Wide, dark eyes once again focused on your unconscious form. You looked peaceful, like you could have been asleep, dreaming of happy things, not knocked out cold from a fall. This was all his damn fault. “I’ll fix it, sweetheart. I’ll make everything better,” Joel murmured, running his fingers over the smooth skin of your cheek. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, lips pursed.

“Is medical transport coming?” Tommy questioned, pulling Joel’s focus back to action.

“They’re going to meet us at port. A storm’s rolling in and they don’t want us to wait. Frank’s gonna take watch duty and they’ll guide him over the phone if there’s anything he needs to do,” Joel explained. He hesitated to leave your side, this being the closest he’d been to you since you were in his bed days ago – was it only days? It felt like weeks – but they needed to get a move on.

“Ok. Where do we want to –”

“We’ll put her in my quarters. I don’t want her too far away from me in case anything happens.”

“Are you…” Tommy wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that if you regained consciousness before they got to port, but he trailed off, not about to waste precious time arguing with his brother. They were short on time; he could see the dark skies moving in from a distance. And Joel’s determined expression told Tommy he would have lost the argument anyway.

Lifting you gently once he checked your neck, Joel supported your head against his shoulder and carried you, bridal style, to the bridge, avoiding the areas where the guests were, and through to his quarters. Placing you gently on the unmade bed like the precious thing you were, he kissed your forehead, lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I promise, I will do anything to make this better, to make up for how poorly I treated you.”

As Joel was taking care of you and getting setup on the bridge, Tommy called over the radio for Sarah to join the deck crew. Being a woman down and in a hurry, he needed all hands on deck and, having grown up on yachts and learned from her father and uncle, Sarah was well versed in pulling anchor and docking. The deck crew worked quicky and thoroughly, getting the anchor up and securing the main decks.

The wind and waves picked up as they took off back to the island, anxiety spread through the crew knowing the real reason why they were rushing back to port. The storm was a bit of a blessing in disguise, giving the interior crew a good excuse to offer the guests for docking half a day early.

The routine journey seemed interminable to Joel, his mind half on steering the yacht safely back to port and the other half on you. He knew you were in good hands with Frank – that man adored you and knew how important you were to Joel; he would take the best care of you – yet Joel still worried. How could he not? You were hurt and things were a mess between you two. Anxiety bubbled in his gut, creating a tightness in his chest that he suspected would not go away until you were safe, and he was forgiven.

The docking was a mess weather-wise and sloppy in execution. Tommy barked out orders over the wind, but every single person on deck was preoccupied. Lines were tangled, spring lines weren’t tossed far enough, taking two or three tosses to get to the dock crew, and Joel nearly crashed into a damn piling. Worst docking ever, by far, but they finally made it, and the medics were waiting for you.

A hushed conversation took place on the bridge as the medics tended to you, securing your unconscious form to a stretcher.

“Are you sure? You’ve never, in the entire history of us working together, left the boat while charter guests remained on board,” Frank said, needing to clarify Joel’s insistence that he accompany you to the emergency room.

“I’m certain. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Frank,” Joel insisted, gesturing emphatically, the ball of anxiety in his chest tightening at the mere thought of not being by your side. Big cow eyes pleaded with Frank to understand, to take point in Joel’s moment of need. He was so close to just abandoning ship otherwise. “Right now, that gorgeous, kind woman is more important to me than any of this and I need to show her that. I need to be there when she wakes up to prove that to her.”

Frank looked at him so softly then, like he’d seen a new side of the man he’d known nigh on twenty years. He understood the lengths a man in love would go to – especially a man like Joel – and he refused to be the one who stood in the way of that. “Go, quick!” Frank waved him toward the deck. “They’ll be wanting to get her to the hospital asap. I’ll keep everyone in line and check in for updates. Take care of her… and yourself.”

In a rare moment of outward emotion, Joel gave Frank a one-armed hug, chocolate eyes full of gratitude and lips curling upward as he left the bridge.

A pounding headache was the first thing that you noticed. The next was the pull of an IV in your arm when you shifted. The third, painfully bright fluorescent lights that only made the headache worse. Looking around in confusion, your eyes settled on medical monitoring equipment and blandly painted walls. You were in the hospital. Why?

Shifting again as you fought down any panic, a heavy weight pinned your free hand down. Eyes slowly moving around the room – you were a bit dizzy and vaguely nauseous – your gaze met a wild mop of dark, messy curls laying on your hand, and a large, warm hand gently grasping your wrist.

Joel.

Your heart skipped a beat as everything came back to you in pieces. The double date. The wonderful night spent together in his quarters. The passion. The morning after… Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you sucked in a deep breath to calm yourself and continued jogging your memory. The look on Joel’s face as he sent you away. The tears. The sadness. The internal fight to keep going, to just do your job rather than giving up and ending your season early. The bright light of joking around with Jake. The laughter while loading kayaks. Tripping, trying to catch yourself, then everything went black and now you were in a hospital room.

God, the pounding in your head hurt worse after thinking so hard. You kept shifting, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position to ease the ache, and the hand around your wrist flexed reassuringly. Your pulse soared when Joel lifted his head, large brown eyes blinking owlishly up at you, and the machine at your side started to beep loudly.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough from his nap. “Don’t wanna get your heartrate too high.”

You didn’t know what to say and just stared back at Joel, eyes taking in every move as he sat up and slipped his hand down your wrist to tangle his fingers with yours. He was here, at your side, holding your hand, gazing at you tenderly with concern in those beautiful eyes. It had to mean something, right? Right?

Lips parting, mouth parched yet needing to say something, anything. “What are you doing here?” That was the best you could come up with.

Joel’s brows pulled together, but a knock on the door interrupted before he could respond, and a doctor sauntered into the room.

“Ah, you’re awake! That is promising news.” The doctor – a balding, middle-aged man in a too-tight white coat – read your chart as the nurse accompanying him called out additional readings from the machine at your side. He hummed, noting down the new information, and placed the chart down on the counter along the wall. “Let me just check…”

The man trailed off, shining a light in your eyes to assess your pupillary response, then gestured for you to follow his finger with your eyes. He ran a few more tests of your reflexes and assessed the tenderness on your scalp where you hit your head. Satisfied, he put the penlight in his chest pocket and sat on a little rolling stool.

“So, you’ve had quite the day.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you grumbled.

“And I bet you have one helluva headache?”

You merely nodded, waiting for the doctor to get to the point.

“That’s to be expected. Nurse Chapin will give you a dose of pain medication in your IV for now.” The nurse moved to do exactly that as the doctor continued. “The knock to your head caused a concussion – grade three judging by the amount of time you were unconscious. But the good news is that the CT scans are favorable. The brain swelling is already going down. Any memory loss? Nausea? Changes in mood – increased irritability, moodiness, anger?”

“A little dizzy and very mildly nauseous. I’m mostly just tired and my head is fucking killing me.” Your brows scrunched together, eyes still squinting from the combination of the headache and the too bright lights. Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that burst from his chest, causing both you and the doctor to join in.

“I’ll take that laugh as a ‘no’ to increased irritability. The meds will kick in very shortly. Once they do, you’ll start to feel better, but you’ll likely be more tired than usual for a few days and will need to take it easy for a week or two,” the doctor explained. “I would recommend someone monitor you for at least the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours just in case there are any changes in your symptoms.”

Your eyes flashed to Joel, who was already watching you. His fingers squeezed yours ever so slightly, and you startled, having forgotten that you were holding hands. You could see in his eyes that he would not let you out of his sight. You weren’t sure how you felt about that yet, but you were too tired to argue about it.

Within a couple hours, you were discharged, and on your way back to the yacht with Joel. Neither of you spoke much, but as you suspected, Joel never strayed from your side, an arm or hand always wrapped around some part of you. Once you were in a car on the way back to the port, your head resting tenderly against Joel’s chest where it fell from sheer exhaustion, he finally spoke.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough, but I am sorry for my behavior, for how I treated you the other morning. I won’t disrespect you further by offering lame excuses. It was a piss poor reaction and I regret every single second of it. Most of all, I regret hurting you.”

You could feel the rumble of Joel’s voice mixed with the elevated beat of his heart against your face where it rested against his chest and hear the sincerity in his voice as it broke over certain words. His arm tightened around your shoulders, drawing you closer still until your entire being could tell how much he regrated his actions, his words, that entire dreadful morning.

Was it that easy, though? Were you ready to forgive and forget that quickly?

The medication had taken the sharp edge off the headache, but your mind was still a swirling mess. This was a conversation for when you were both clear-headed, you thought. But you appreciated his apology nonetheless.

You must have been silent too long because Joel started speaking again. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right now – or at all, really. I just… I just wanted you to know that I would take it all back and reset that morning, if I could.”

“Thank you, Joel, for the apology… and for being here for me even when things aren’t great between us. I want to forgive you, but I think… I think we should have a conversation when I feel more like myself,” you admitted, exhaustion lacing your voice.

Pressing his lips to the top of your head, Joel kissed your hair. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll talk when you’re ready. In the meantime, let me take care of you. Let me show you that I’m worthy of your forgiveness if you find it in your heart to offer it to me.”

You murmured something intelligible, snuggling further into the warmth of his chest. Joel let you sleep the remainder of the ride and carried you on board like the precious cargo you were. It was well after midnight and the yacht was dimly lit and quiet, even the charter guests in their rooms asleep ahead of their departure later that morning. You remained out cold as he tucked you into his bed, slipping in beside you after a quick shower. You didn’t know it, but he held you close all night.

True to his word, Joel looked after you with great care. His bedside manner was impeccable, if he did say so himself. You were an easy patient though, sleeping through most of the next day, rousing only when he woke you periodically per doctor’s orders. He made certain you had plenty of liquids to stay hydrated, light food to nourish you, and pain reliever for the lingering headache.

The charter guests departed none the wiser and they left a good tip despite their time at sea being cut a little short. Their departure was the only time Joel left your side for more than five minutes and, upon his return, he set your portion of the tip aside for when you were awake for more than fifteen minutes.

There was a rare lull in the schedule with the next charter being a short three-day reservation, so the crew all had four days in a row off. Convenient timing, of course, and Joel was glad you’d have the extra time to recover without feeling guilty. Originally, he planned to have an activity for the crew to unwind, but no one seemed to want to do that without you. He wondered if you had any idea how loved and appreciated you were among the crew.

After thirty-six hours, your energy started making a return and Joel allowed some visitors to check on you. Sarah had been driving him up a wall demanding to know via text how you were doing every five minutes and she would not relent until she saw you with her own eyes. If it was at all weird for her to see you sitting up in her dad’s bed while he gazed at you all gooey-eyed, she didn’t say peep about it, for which Joel was grateful.

Of course, Ellie had plenty to say about it – more than enough to make up for everyone who didn’t – but you merely laughed knowing the younger woman found the entire situation entertaining rather than ‘gross’ as she insisted.

Mostly, Joel just spent a lot of time watching you like a sad puppy, worrying about you, and hoping that you’d forgive him. This time spent taking care of you made him realize, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how much he ached to keep doing so, in good times and bad. If you couldn’t forgive him, if he lost you for good after this, it would surely destroy him.

He could deny it no longer, to himself, you, or anyone else who wanted to know. He was head over fucking heels in love with you. He just hoped that you felt just as deeply about him as he did about you.

tbc

[one-idea]

I'm the same Wado au anon thank you so much for the response I loved reading it, I hope Thriller Bark and the war saga are threatening you well! something I forgot to ask is if you have any ideas about playing into something in the story that interests me, Luffy has the voices of all things do you think he would hear or understand something from Wado especially now that she likes him a lot and will spend a great deal of time near, it would be interesting to think of as it doesn't come to him the same way living things do but messages do get across,, for example I know enough American sign language to get across short sentences because of a deaf coworker. Thank you for indulging me.

I love this idea.

I was already planning something like this once the crew is back together in Sabaody. Since Luffy spent the two years apart training his Haki.

I think he can get cage feelings from the sword in the beginning since Wado has a bigger personality. Even as early as Shell town. But at the time Wado was very angry at anyone touching her since she didn’t know that Luffy was taking her to Zoro.

He thinks she either A) dislikes him or B) begrudgingly accepts him as Zoro’s captain. But again he’s not in tune to the sword or knows that it has a full spirit. He’s just going off of the vibe he got when he first touched it.

Pre time skip I think he would only be able to feel her if he was touching her. Which is very rare.

Post time skip he’s got much better at observation and listening to the voice of all things. He can hear her far better. Again he can’t hear everything or hear her all the time. The closer he is to her the clearer her voice is, but he won’t hear her 100% unless he’s touching her. He gets vague feelings and hears certain cry’s/sayings. It’s like listening to people walking by you. You hear snippets of the conversation but not the whole context.

Her devotion to him is both surprising and not. It’s Zoro’s oldest sword of course she would feel like him.

The question is does Zoro know that Luffy can hear his sword? She calls Luffy “their king” because all of Zoro’s swords reflect him in some way shape or form. But Wado reflects his dreams and desires, his heart. And she calls out to Luffy a lot. And I don’t know how he would respond to thinking that Luffy can hear the sword.

Cause youn know Luffy will bring it up casually like “your sword talks funny sometimes”

And Zoro is left to wonder if Luffy heard the whole conversation? Has he heard every conversation?

No he heard Wado call an enemy a mean nickname (probably one he came up with) and then talk about how they had to win for “their king.” He approved of the whole exchange but that the only part he heard.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

I saw your requests are open so I hope it's alright if I ask for some Captain Rex headcanons with an anxious love interest or s/o? Like maybe she's nervous about working near/with the GAR as a civ but our 💙 good captain in blue 💙 makes sure she's doing okay whenever he gets a chance/wants an excuse to be near her >///< It's okay if you don't wanna do this or find it trickey, I don't wanna pressure you 💙💙

More than alright, anon; plenty welcome, in fact! I'm feeling it for Rex lately myself, admittedly, so I hope I did him justice. I went with pre-relationship scenarios, so I hope that’s alright! If you’d like me to do a part a little differently, or follow up with the actual relationship, don’t hesitate to send in another request. 💙

Warnings and Information: Our good Captain in Blue has taken an interest in a certain civilian employee of the GAR, and it seems he's not quite so alone in feeling those butterflies in his stomach around her like he thought… Undescribed fem!Reader with unspecified anxiety/anxious tendencies. Little bit of mutual pining and some fluff, primarily. Follows bullet point format. No Mando'a used this time. The reader is given different "nicknames" from the Clones to bypass the use of a name in some cases.

Word count: 2,531

First meeting you

He wholeheartedly supported the inclusion of civilian staff in the Grand Army of the Republic. If there could be non-Jedi staff at the Jedi Temple, why not have non-Clones working alongside the soldiers? It only made sense, in a way. 

And despite initial (and natural) concerns from his men and brothers of the 501st Legion, they had no reason to feel wary about being treated unkindly or with prejudice by any who passed the background inspections to serve alongside the men in other manners. Clerical. Mechanics. Inventory specialists. A team of cooks and a handful of barbers were certainly popular rumors. The one thing in common was they were all kind and even friendly with his men, at the end of the day. 

So the Captain gave it little thought to see civilian staff on base between missions: after a certain point, you just get used to them being there and respond "It's good to be back." to everyone welcoming you back to your home away from home as you step off the LAATs. Another victory secured for the glory of the Republic. 

However, he'll always take notice of a new face. There's a young woman who has just transferred here in his absence. The polite thing to do is introduce himself, but when he approaches and goes to extend his hand, he's surprised to find you shy away in alarm - just a little. "Welcome to our humble little base. It's nice to meet you. I'm Captain Rex of the five-oh-fir- Ma'am, is… everything alright?" he asks, curious and a little concerned. 

Your smile is sweet and apologetic as you tuck an errant strand of hair back into place before introducing yourself with your name. "I'm sorry, Captain Rex, I wasn't expecting any introductions when you've just gotten back. You surprised me." you explain, now cradling the datapad against your chest, or morerather squeezing it against you almost. Oh, that explains it, he just startled you. "That's alright. Sorry for scaring you." 

He would have liked to continue to get to know you beyond the few little exchanges they had, before he was called to the war room for a debriefing and he needed to excuse himself to answer the comms. But he really wants to get to know you better. Learn where you had transferred from and why, and how recently. How you liked the base, so far, and how you were adjusting. Thankfully, there'll be time later, at least. 

One thing, when he gets the time to know you, that becomes immediately clear to Rex in very short order is that you deal with some degree of anxiety (or at least anxious tendencies) in your day-to-day beyond getting adjusted to the transfer. There's a few notable quirks and idiosyncrasies that come up whenever you're nervous, Rex notices. And the anxiety is not just a product of wartime, either. There's a way you just "know". 

Being helpful and sweet

Captain Rex asks a few of his brothers to try offering a little friendship to help ease you further into this transfer. Ideally, he'd do as much of this himself as he could, but he doesn't always have the time to spare. 

But he uses every opportunity he can to check on you himself, of course. As you start coming out of your shell, and your personality really starts to come through, that's when Rex thinks about inventing reasons to seek your company. He's got a few minutes free, he's already in the hangar, maybe he could swing by and see how you're doing, maybe have a quick chat. He picked up an extra drink from the canteen by mistake, maybe you'd like something to drink? Does he really need to run this little bit of paperwork by you if your job is minimally involved? No, not really, but he has a chance to talk to you. 

Jesse deduces early on that he “must really like our new transfer if you keep volunteering to take all the forms even remotely involved to her for everyone, Captain.” Jesse is being teasing and suggestive about it. Rex brushes it off and explains it away easily enough, kind of for himself as much as it is for Jesse and the others. “She wouldn’t admit to it, but I think the last time everyone was coming in and out of her office with all the forms and paperwork for her all day kind of sent her into a tizzy. If I just collect it now, and give it to her all at one time, it’ll make it easier on her. She’s still adjusting here. Just trying to make it easier on her until she’s settled in comfortably.” There’s a few sympathetic winces around the room, hearing that you ended up feeling anxious at the end of that day. And there’s a slightly cheeky grin from Fives that concerns him, only initially, but he finds it’s one of the agreeable smiles soon enough. “Makes sense, Captain. If there’s anything I can do to help-” Echo elbows his chest plate meaningfully, “If there’s anything we can do to help, Echo and I will be glad to do it.” Fives smoothly corrects himself as he volunteers to assist the Captain in assisting this new civ employee.

You who are so incredibly, incredibly kind, and compassionate to the needs of his men (and polite in your professional interactions with him). His men are always so kind to her in turn. Stars, he thinks he finds himself almost falling in love with you, bit by bit. You can be forgiven for your shyness when you're just so kind with everyone you meet. 

The way to his heart is through his brothers

You’re muttering worriedly as you shuffle all the stacks of flimsiplast and a few datapads you need to return to people, looking for something. Dogma notices, and starts walking towards you, clearing his throat from a distance to announce his presence. Give you a warning that someone is approaching. "You won't find it on your desk: I took that report to General Skywalker during his meeting for you, miss. I would have let you know, but I couldn't find you." You give Dogma a gracious smile in light of his act of kindness when you ask where a particular report on your desk went, rather than looking or acting upset any longer that it seemingly disappeared when you went to the ladies' fresher. "Oh, that was sweet of you, Dogma, thank you… I appreciate you doing that." It was no trouble, Dogma promises you. (Both Rex and Dogma silently reason with themselves that she didn't need to know Dogma had almost gotten into a little bit of trouble with the other Generals for being so focused on delivering the report on her behalf he completely forgot to knock before he came in.) 

You and Tup get along swimmingly. Rex finds himself - curiously - envying his brother only for a moment every time he finds Tup getting a little help with wrangling his hair. Thick and full of curls, the typical hair ties they can get their hands on often only last a mission or two before they can't contain his hair under his bucket. "Hey, Tup? You got a second?" He glances at Rex for approval for a moment; they're due to leave in a few minutes and are going over strategy. Rex nods. "What can I do for ya, darlin'?" You pull a little packet of hair ties from a pocket in your jumpsuit, and offer to redo the bun he has to throw together in a hurry with no time to replace a snapped band. "I went to a beauty salon yesterday on my day off, and I saw these. They're advertised to work better for your hair type than these." You explain as you pluck out the broken elastic and rebuild Tup's bun with ease. "There. Now I feel better. I hope those will work for you, Tup." Tup grins appreciatively, and promises he'll do his best when you wish them all luck and to come back safely before returning to your work. (Rex imagines your touch must be so gentle if Tup keeps touching his hair to check that it's truly tied up.) The hair tie outlasts the mission and then some. It’s weeks before Tup has to ask you for another, and he grins from ear to ear, eyes bright with surprise when you give him the remainder of the packet, promising the rest are his. “Oh darlin’, you’re too nice… Are you sure? Thank you.”

Captain Rex often finds Echo and Fives crowded near your desk while you work. The first instance of this, he's concerned about them bothering you of course, but just as he comes along to tell them to go share a shadow with someone else (Him. It's going to be him that they'll bother.) he finds that the three of you are figuring out the difference between form 1587-A and form A1587. "Hmm, look at this subsection here on 87-A, it's asking for things like what's been added to a materials manifest. That's not on the other form is it, Fives?" Echo asks, pouring over one form as Fives looks at the other for you. Three heads set to one task would get this sorted out. "Doesn't look like it. Oh, hey Captain. Need us for something? We're just helping her out with these forms." Fives replies before taking notice of the Captain, who's standing at a short distance. "No, no," Rex replies with an easy smile as you and Echo join Fives in looking up at him, "Only wondering what you three were up to. Don't mind me." he promises, only staying for a few more moments to watch as you and his men sort this mystery out. He's not sure if you're looking a little flushed in the face because of the paperwork debacle, or because he's watching you. 

You have to hunt him down one morning for a signature, dressed rather nicely today. You have a meeting with the head of the civilian staff, and you need one last thing before you attend. "Captain Rex? Could I get you to sign off on this paperwork for me please since it pertains to the manifest you sent me?" Rex apologizes earnestly to you as he scribbles down the approval. "I'm so sorry, I must have forgotten… Was so concerned about Denal that it just slipped my mind." Kix chuckles softly, reassuringly. "He'll be fine, Captain. That battle droid was in worse shape than Denal after Jesse got to his position." Kix quickly promises to give you the story later as Rex returns the datapad to you, his hands brushing against yours innocently. Something feels electric between you from such a simple gesture. "You look nice today, sweetheart. Good luck with your meeting." Kix calls after you, chuckling softly when you can do little more than smile over your shoulder, your face looking a mite flushed with color at the compliment. His team medic turns to him to say something, but changes course when he notices that Rex hasn’t moved a muscle since your fingers grazed over his own. “Hmm, maybe it’s a little warmer here than I realized. You’re also looking rather flushed, Captain.” 

He’s fine, just feels a little strange. He can’t explain why, though.  

Catching feelings for each other

It takes a while for it to happen, but while Hardcase’s runaway speederbike doesn’t hit him as he’s taking it to the hangar to get it repaired, the realization sure does when many of Torrent Company come back from their last assignment dirty, disheveled and oh-so-tired, and you just simply smile at him and his men and tell them all individually, by name, that you’re glad to see him safe? Oh Maker. That’s when he knows. Yes, he loves you. “It’s good to see you made it back safely, Captain Rex. Welcome back.” Like a few of his men before him, since you greeted him last, you give him the option for a welcoming friendly gesture, but there’s a moment where you hesitate before you decide you’ll be a little braver.

“You look like you could use a good hug rather than a handshake, Captain.” You promise him a little grease, ash and soot from the battlefield won’t hurt your jumpsuit - which are meant to get dirty, after all. You just feel a little something extra will do him some good, seeing that you can notice how simply tired he is. (It was a successful campaign and fortunately, they lost very few troops this time.) 

Seeing how serious you seem about it, Rex agrees. “That sounds nice.”

Both of you laugh and smile nervously, nerves buzzing with energy, by the time you and the Captain break the hug. You don’t want to risk getting in trouble when you’re still technically within your probationary period for anything like unprofessional conduct or PDA, but kriff it. The brief hug was worth any anxiety attacks that might be brought on by overthinking this later. 

And if you were disciplined for offering the hug, Captain Rex would absolutely lie and say it was his idea. He notices you seem to hug your arms across your chest whenever you get particularly anxious over some part of your work on occasion, seeing how you take deep, calming breaths before trying to tackle the problem again. He could play off the hug using that as an excuse should anyone come asking questions about it. It’s unlikely, but a man of his experience wants to be prepared for anything.

(Even your men who decide to give you a little ribbing about it.) 

“You’ve been smiling to yourself for the last ten minutes now, Captain. Any particular reason~?” He’s just glad to be home, Jesse. That’s a pretty good reason to smile.  “Oh, I’m sure… She must be glad too.” Jesse suggests with a short bark of laughter. He doesn’t pay it much mind, too busy calculating the days until the probationary period ends. 

That’s just a week away. “That’s when I can hopefully stop feeling so nervous, all the time… At least, when you’re away, Captain.” you had admitted to him, ignoring how hot your face felt, maybe even looked. "I really do appreciate how welcome you and your men have made me feel here… Thank you for that. I took a big chance on this job and a location transfer, but I’m glad I did. Otherwise I… wouldn’t have met you." 

And it’s more than okay when or if it turns out that your nervous tendencies don’t simply “disappear” by next week, too. Captain Rex has taken it into account and brushed up therapeutic and grounding techniques for those who live with anxiety as part of their daily lives, just in case he ever takes these feelings a step further, should he get an opportunity to. After all, his brothers are now taking bets on how long it is before the two of you are going to start doing things like getting lunch together from the mess…

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those fancy forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff.

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

[littlespacereader]

It’s my One Year Anniversary on Tumblr!

Thank you everyone for your love and support through this first year! Your love of my fics or my random post mean the world to me!!

My regression and everything about this side of my life is hidden by everyone I know. So to have this community to rant to, to write fics for or to just be silly with, it means everything to me! Thank you for being so welcoming and so kind to me!🥹💞

In honor of this anniversary I decided to write a fic based on whatever I’m obsessed with at the moment. And what’s been my hyper fixation show at the moment is Star Wars the Clone Wars! So please enjoy this fic with Captain Rex and the 501st plus a Jedi Little Reader and their antics of trying to stay up late! Enjoy!!!

Dad Says We Can Stay Up Late!💤🌙

Caregivers: Rex, Kix, Echo, & Tups with a Fem Jedi Little!Reader and Fives, Hardcase, Jesse and Dogman Little Siblings (SFW!)

Tags- Pillow fights, arguing (mild), snacks, sippy cups, bottles, pacifiers, tickling, stuffies, game of tag, snuggles and cuddling, group sleepover

The mission was over and the 501st plus General Y/N were on their way back to Kamino. It was a great victory over the separatists. Another win for the squad. So that mean a victory party!

But the problem? It was probably going to be past most of their bedtimes.

The clones of the Republic are no strangers to regression. Clones don’t get a childhood, they’re just trained to fight. So it’s no wonder some seek out regression and some seek to be caring figures to those little ones.

The 501st has their fair share of the mix. Captain Rex, of course, is the group’s main Caregiver. Both in and out of all of their regression, Rex is always seen as a father figure to all of them. But when they regress, he takes the role very seriously.

Then you have Kix the medic and clone trooper Tups as the second and third Caregivers to the 501st. Finally the last Caregiver is Echo whose quiet and gentle touch gives him the nickname mom of the group.

So four Caregivers of the 501st…but who are the Littles then?

The Caregivers have their hands full with the 501st Littles. Fives is the most energetic Little of the bunch, then there’s Hardcase who’s not far behind Fives chaotic energy. They’re the big kids of the group.

Then there’s Dogman and Jesse, who have a slightly younger mindset but not too far behind their brothers. They’re more kids rather than big kids.

Then there’s the 501st Jedi general Y/N. Ripped away from her family at a young age, Y/N hasn’t really known what it’s like to have a normal childhood or a family. But she would find that with the clone squadron.

She joined them in their routine of coming back to Kamino and regressing. Only thing is…she’s the youngest of the bunch with a little kid headspace.

No one minded though, infact the clones loved having a smaller Little one to take care of! The Littles loved their little sister and the Caregivers loved having someone so young to take care of.

So that’s how the 501st has their own Little Family. But what was this about a victory party?

Oh yes! Rex had promised that if they won this particular battle they would be rewarded with a victory party. The problem? It’s already late and their bedtimes are coming up fast.

“We can’t have a victory party,” Hardcase whined, “We’ll only have an hour to celebrate before we have to go to bed.” He crossed his arms, clearly starting to regress on the ship back.

He wasn’t the only one. Most of the Littles were almost if not regressed already. Happy to be able to do so after the mission.

“Yeah you’re right Hardcase, you make a good point there.” Rex smiles, “Then I guess everyone will be staying up past their bedtime tonight.”

That got every Little on the ship excited. Immediately all their heads lifted up to look at Rex.

“Really?? We can stay up late and do whatever we want?!” Jesse asked, clearly super excited.

“He said you can stay up late, not that you can do whatever you want Jesse.” Kix corrected, smiling all the same as he shook his head.

“We can watch holograms all night!” Y/N smile, clearly as excited as everyone else.

“It’s going to be the coolest party ever!! We’re never going to sleep tonight!” Fives yelled.

“Yeah!!”

“Yeah never sleeping!”

“Staying up forever!”

The rest of the way back to Kamino, the Little gathered and talked about all the things they planned on doing the whole night.

Meanwhile the Caregivers talked as well. “Rex, are you sure this is a good idea?” Echo asked with a glance towards the group of excited Littles.

“Of course it is Echo. No harm in this at all.”

“Do you seriously think that they’re going to stay up all night?” Tups asks.

Kix laughs, “Are you kidding? We just came back from a long mission and now we’re going to have a party? They’ll be lucky if they stay up before their bedtime.”

~~~

The moment the ship lands, the Littles are practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. “Endless night!!” Fives says, being the first to run off the ship.

“Endless night!!” Hardcase yells after him.

The rest of the squad follows behind. Y/N holding Kix’s hand as they walk through the hallways of Kamino. It was obvious the youngest was going to be the first to fall asleep.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to stay up with the boys. If you feel tired you can get one of us and we’ll take you to bed.” Kix tried to say but Y/N shook her head.

“Don’t wanna miss anything.” She whined.

“I know baby, I know. I’m just saying if you start to feel tired and if you want to go to sleep, you can always find me and I’ll take you somewhere a bit more quiet.” Kix explained.

Y/N nodded and tried to hold back a yawn. “Kay Kits.” She said, leaning close against his arm.

Kix knew like the rest of the Caregivers that Y/N always tried to keep up with her older Little siblings. But late hours and Y/N didn’t mix together. He knew she would be the first to sleep.

The rest? Wouldn’t be far behind.

~~~

Fives turns around and looks to the group of Caregivers and Littles who are ‘too slow’. His eyes quickly landed upon me.

“Come on slow pokes! We can’t waste any time!” Fives walks over to me and picks me up, giving me a piggy back ride as he runs down the hallway. I giggle the whole way as the Caregivers watch and smile.

Fives carries me into the 501st barracks where the rest of the Littles are running about. Jesse smiled seeing us enter, “Great you’re finally here Y/N. Grab all the pillows and blankets and put them by the holoscreen.”

I nod my head running around to all the beds, grabbing the blankets, pillows and everyone’s stuffies. We did this often, making one big bed infront of the hologram so we could all cuddle to sleep together. I took all our belongings to the center of the room, and started creating one big bed full of cushions, pillows and blankets for all of us.

I hold my loth cat stuffie close as I watch the rest of the Littles of the 501st running around. A yawn escaped me as the weight of the day starts to weight me down. But I couldn’t fall asleep yet! Stay up forever!! But…I could start to see it was going to be a difficult task.

The Caregivers finally enter the barracks and watch the chaos unfolding. Fives and Jesse are wrestling around, Dogman and Hardcase are getting everyone’s cup and sippy cups.

But the Caregivers noticed something, everyone was walking around in their dirty and worn armor from the mission. They all needed to be changed into their pjs. But that was going to be their first and one of their biggest challenges of the night.

There was an unspoken game the Caregiver and the Littles of the 501st played after every mission. The Littles, who outnumbered the Caregivers 5 to 4, would try to outrun their Caregivers and see who would be the last Little to be caught and change into their pjs from their armor.

Fives was the resigning winner from their last mission. But today could be a new winner.

“Fives! Jesse!” I call over, pointing to the group of Caregivers strategizing. All at once the Littles realized what was about to happen.

“Ready for our next mission?” Rex smirked to the other three Caregivers. Echo sighed while Kix and Tups chuckled.

“I’ve got Jesse,” Kix called.

“I’ve got Dogman,” Tup called next.

Rex and Echo looked to each other, silently agreeing on who they were going after.

Fives, Jesse, Hardcase, Dogman and I joined each other and stared back at the Caregivers.

There was a standoff between us. Neither of the two groups moved. The Caregivers smiled back at Littles with a mischievous smile.

The silent standoff was broken with a simple cry, “RUNNN!!!!” from Fives.

Suddenly all hell broke loose in the 501st barracks as the Littles took off while the Caregivers chase them down.

I ran as fast as I could, ducking under beds and weaving in and out of the bunks. I ducked under one of the bunks to hide. I popped my head out to see if anyone had been caught yet.

Dogman was wrapped in Tup’s warm arms, giggling as the Caregiver tickled his sides. So there’s one down.

Jesse ran around the beds but his foot caught the corner of one, causing him to fall. Immediately he starts to cry, holding his ‘injured’ leg.

Kix, who was chasing him to begin with, ran over to his aid, bringing the Little close to check his leg. “Hurts!” He cried.

“Doesn’t look like anything major. Just a little bruise.” Kix said after looking over his leg. With a little kiss to it, Kix declared it all better.

Jesse lifted his arms up and Kix right away picked him up, “It’s okay Jesse, I’ve got you. You’re okay sweet one.” He says softly, as Jesse hide his face against his neck.

Because Kix is a medic it meant he was extra gentle and comforting whenever one of us got hurt or injured. Sometimes an injury or cut that’s normally not that big of a deal to us out of our regression, is a big deal when we’re regressed. Kix knew and always made sure we got extra love and comfort for it.

That’s Jesse and Dogman out of the game. That left Fives, Hardcase and myself.

I saw Echo, he was trying to wrangle Fives….but where is Rex?

Suddenly my ankle is grabbed and I get pulled out from under the bed. “Thought you could hide from me you little tooka.” Rex smiled, tickling me on the ground. I kicked and squirmed, laughing to the point of not being able to breathe.

He picks me up off the floor and into his arms. I giggle as he bounced me. “How’d you find me?”

“Your friend here was sticking out just a bit.” He gestured to my loth cat stuffie. In reality he watched as I hid under the bed, but he wasn’t going to ruin the fun.

“Come on, let’s get you changed into something more comfy.” Rex said as he started to walk towards my bunk to change me.

“Wait! Wanna see who last to get picked.” I explain.

Rex smirks, “Alright, alright, let’s see.”

At the moment all that was left was Echo, trying to wrangle Fives and Hardcase all by himself. Fives and Hardcase started working together, staying parallel to Echo. They would be on one side of the bed while Echo would be on the other.

“You can’t catch us!” Hardcase teased as they ran around the bed three, no four times in a row.

Finally Echo had enough and decided to put his arc trooper training to some good use. He grabbed a hold off the side of the bed and swung over in one fast movement.

The moment caught Fives and Hardcase off guard and soon Echo had a hand on both their shoulders, stopping them from running off. “Alright, enough is enough. Let’s get you both changed.” Echo sighed in relief.

“Wait! Who did you touch first?” Fives quickly asked.

“Yeah who?” Hardcase added.

“I think it was a tie boys.”

“A tie?!” The two littles looked at each other.

“Yeah. I grabbed you both at once. Guess you both win.” Echo shrugged.

There was a moment of internal debate before the two accepted their shared win.

“Yeah!! We won!!” Hardcase smiled.

“We’re the fastest!!” Fives added.

Rex walked towards my bunk with me in his arms. “See? Leave it to Echo to get both of them at once.” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” I say following it with a yawn.

As Rex walks over to my bunk to grab my pajamas, I can’t help ur rest my head against him, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around his neck.

I hear him chuckle, “Someone’s tired after the mission.”

He places me on the bed and starts helping me changes from my usual Jedi robes to some softer more comfortable pajamas. “You did a good job today.”

“I did?”

“Yeah you did.” Rex smiles, “I was very proud of you on the battle field today.”

The praise warms me, making so so happy and honored that I did good and that Rex was proud of me. I hug him tightly, so happy to have him as one of my Caregivers.

After he grabs a hairbrush and brushes my hair, all while I try not to fall asleep to the comforting feeling.

“You know,” Rex stated to say, “If you want to go to sleep, you can Y/N. You don’t have to stay up with the boys. And if you’re worried about being by yourself I’m sure one of us won’t mind staying with you.” He suggests.

But I shake my head and rub my tired eyes, “Noooowwwaa! Wanna stay up with you.” I put my arms out to be held again.

“Alright my little tooka, alright. But if you feel tired you promise to tell one of us okay?” He lifts me back into his arms.

“Promise Dadee.” I say softly, holding onto his as he carries me back to the group.

Every Little is changed into pjs now, as they settle in for their victory party. Kix and Tups managed to get changed themselves in the mayhem and wear pajamas bottoms and loose shirts. They watch the Littles as Echo and Rex go to change out of their armor.

Tups handles the food and snacks while Kix handles drinks, all while the Littles roam around them.

Jesse stays close to Kix after getting hurt. He becomes his little helper, gathering everyone’s respective cups and getting drink orders from the Littles.

“Y/N!” Jesse runs over, “Water, blue milk or juice tonight?”

“Blue milk please.” I reply, watching as Jesse nods and runs back over to Kix to tell him.

“Y/N wants blue milk, Dad.”

“Thank you for asking her Jesse. You’re just a great helper.” Kix smiled and Jesse beams under the praise.

The rest of the Littles hang around Tups and for good reason. He starts making everyone a little bowl of snacks.

“Where’s the desserts?! How is this a party without desserts?!” Fives whines.

“Because it’s too late to have dessert.” Tups replies.

He’s about to say something else when Fives interrupts him, “But we need desserts so we can stay up all night! This is unfair!”

“Fives drop it,” Rex says sternly as he returns with Echo.

Rex wears a sweatshirt and pajama pants, similar to Kix and Tups, while Echo wears a hoodie and sweatpants because he’s always chilly.

Fives whines but drops it, knowing Rex was not going to put up with it. “Fine….but can we have extra snacks because we won?” He bargains.

Tups chuckles, “Sure Fives. You can have extra.” That seems to satisfy the young clone.

The Caregivers started to get everything together for the night, and while they did the Littles started to run around and play.

Fives grabbed his pillow and shouts “PILLOW FIGHT!!” With that the war had been declared. All of us grab our pillows and start to run towards one another, and into the battle.

The problem is…someone of us have an advantage in this pillow fight…

Fives and Hardcase are brutal in their fight. Being the oldest they us left and right with a brutal force. Jesse got hit twice by the two of them and called it for himself.

“You guys play too hard.” He whined, going back over to Kix and hiding his face against his chest.

Kid walked over and took in the sight of the pillow fight. With an arm wrapped around an upset Jesse, he called out to the other Littles, “Hey! Let’s take it down and start to get settled for the night.”

But neither of them listened.

Their final battle was against Dogman and I. It was two against two. Fives and Hardcase were brutal, each hitting us with percussion. Fives took on Dogman while Hardcase went to battle with me.

Fives hit Dogman square in the stomach, sending him to the ground. He held his stomach as tears brimmed his eyes.

“Papa!” Dogman cried out. “PAPA!”

Fives starts to panic. “Nononono! You’re fine Dogman really! Ssssssshhhhhh!! Don’t tell, don’t tell!”

As that was going on, Hardcase and I were battling it out together. My hit are sloppy, the tiredness of the day getting to me. But Hardcase plays dirty, hitting my legs and sending me to the ground.

As he walked over to hit me with his final pillow blow I closed my eyes and focused. I pull his pillow away using the force. With one move of my hand his pillows flew across the room.

“Hey!” He yelled, “No fair! You’re not allowed to use the force!! That’s cheating!”

“You hit my legs! That’s cheating!”

“What’s going on in here?” Rex called out.

We all turned to see Rex, Tups and Echo all standing together looking stern. Our hearts dropped for a moment.

Dogman runs over to Tups, hugging him tightly as tears fell from his eyes. “We were havin a pillow fight but Fives and Hardcase play too rough!”

“Fives… Hardcase…” Rex said, looking at them suspiciously. It isn’t the first time the two had played rough with the younger Littles. Though they’ve been told in the past, they sometimes forget they’re the oldest and need to be more gentle with their siblings.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him!” Fives tries to say.

“Yeah! And-And Y/N used the force to throw my pillow off to the side!” Right away Hardcase tries to shift the blame onto me.

The attention then turns to me. “He doesn’t stop!” I argue back.

Then the three of us starts talking at once, all arguing to get ourselves out of trouble. Echo and his new found headache interrupt the conversation.

“Alright! Alright! I’ve heard enough. Fives, Hardcase, apologies to your siblings for playing too rough.”

“But we-.”

“Unless you want to have a good time out to think about your apology, I think now would be a good idea to just say one and move on.”

Fives and Hardcase sigh but eventually say an apology to Dogman, Jesse and myself.

“Good. Thank you boys.” Echo turns to me, “Now Y/N, you know you’re not allowed to use to force when you’re back home right?”

I look down, holding my stuffie tighter. “Right…”

“So like your brothers you’re just getting a warning this time. But no using the force anymore or next time it’s a time out, okay?” Echo walks over and puts an arm around me.

“Okay mama.” I lean against him, looking up and nodding my head. ���Mama, I want sit with you and Dadee tonight!” I smile looking up to him..

“You do?” Echo smiles, “I’d love nothing more.”

Echo’s always had the title of mom of the 501st. He never minded it or thought much on it. But when the Littles started regressing more and more, Mom or Mama starts to become Echo’s new nickname.

While some men might not like the feminine nickname, he loves the name. Mostly because he knew it meant they saw him as more of a gentle maternal figure. They all would come to him when they need someone with a soft gentle touch.

Everyone starts to gather by the holo. Kix passes out everyone drinks, cups with straws for FIves and Hardcase, sippy cups for Jesse and Dogman, and a bottle for me. And Tups passes out the snacks to everyone.

Then we start to settle in for the night.

The holo starts to play a popular kids show. It glows infront of all of us, calming the usually energetic clones and putting the rest of us in a sleep mode.

Everyone seems to wrap around or sit next to one Caregiver or the other. Echo sits on one side of me and Rex on the other. I lean against Echo, his arm wrapped around me as I rest my head against his shoulder.

Jesse stays close to Kix, laying similarly to me against him. Hardcase sit on the other side of Kix, Fives sits between Rex and Tups pointing out thing about the show to each of the Caregivers, and Dogman leans against Tups other side watching the show intensely.

~~~

The holo plays on the screen while all the Littles settle in for the night, drinking and snacking away. But as it plays on and the drinks and snack start to disappear, the plan to ‘stay up all night’ start to become harder and harder for the 501st Littles.

For Y/N and Jesse, they’ve lost the battle.

Y/N is out 10 minutes into the show, laying peacefully against Echo sound asleep. Her bottle still in her mouth, with one hand wrapped around Echo and the other holding onto their stuffie.

Jesse held a strong battle during the holo. But eventually Kix could feel Jesse snuggling against him. He wraps an arm around him, pulling him close and rubbing his back softly. Eventually Jesse’s asleep, thumb in his mouth and head on Kix’s chest.

Dogman nods off every so often before jumping back awake. Then the cycle repeats itself.

Eventually Tups takes it upon himself to pull Dogman close, having him fall asleep cuddled close too. The Little doesn’t object, closing his eyes and falling asleep soon after.

Then it’s just the oldest two.

Hardcase is in a similar state as Dogman. His eyes droop close and his head falls forwards before he jerks awake.

Kix leans over and takes his hand, rubbing his knuckles. “Hardcase, why don’t you just go to sleep? See? Jesse’s already asleep.”

Hardcase tried to fight it. He rubs his eye and yawns. “But I wanna stay up all night.” He whines.

Kix smiles at the stubborn Little and comes up with a cleaver plan. “Oh, alright. I guess I’ll only have Jesse to cuddle up with tonight.” He sighs. “Though I really wanted to have you to cuddle up next to too. But I understand, you need to stay up all night.”

He knew it wasn’t the nicest plan in the book, but being a medic he knew it wasn’t healthy the way Hardcase is fighting his sleep.

Hardcase looked at Kix worried. He thought about it for a moment before he moved closer to him, “I can still cuddle next to you and stay up”

“You can? Oh that’s great! Come here kiddo.” Kix wrapped an arm around Hardcase and pulled him close. Hardcase leaned against Kix’s side, resting his head in his lap.

As the holo started to near its end, Kix rubbed Hardcase’s back and arms. Between his already sleepy feeling and the soft and gentle touches here and there, Hardcase is out like a light.

The last one standing is Fives…stubbornly so.

The holo ends, Rex stretches and looks to the remaining Little. “Alright Fives, let’s head to bed.”

“What?! But you said we could stay up as late as we wanted too!” Fives stands up and argues. The Caregivers shush him, careful not to wake the sleeping Littles.

“I know I did Fives but it’s getting late and everyone is very tired.”

“But I’m not tired!” Fives tries to say without yawning. Rex and the other Caregivers share a knowing look.

“How about this Fives? Go pick out a good book on your datapad and I’ll read it to you before we go to sleep. Sound good?” Rex bargain.

“What if I’m not sleepy after it?”

“Then you’re allowed to stay up.”

“Really?!”

“Yup. Now go chose a good one.” Rex ruffles Fives hair before he gets up and go to grab his datapad.

With another shake of his head, the other Caregivers chuckle at Fives never ending energy. They settle in for the night. Getting comfortable on their makeshift bed by the holo.

Tups is already asleep next to Dogman. Both of them wrapped in a blanket with Tups snoring and holding protectively to the Little.

Kix is not far behind him. He adjust himself so that he’s able to lay down with the two Littles comfortably.

Echo cards a hand through Y/N’s hair. He pulls her bottle away and grabs a spare pacifier to replace it with. Immediately Y/N latched onto it, snuggling impossible closer to Echo.

Echo looks over to Rex. “You sure you’ll be able to get him down for bed?

“Trust me, I’ve got Fives. You head off to bed with Y/N. It’s been a long day.” Rex nods.

Echo nods back, stretching before pulling Y/N close and laying down himself. “Let me know if you need anything.” He pulls a blanket around him and Y/N before he starts to fall asleep himself.

Fives runs back over and sits next to Rex. “Okay so I have 5 books I want you to read!”

“5 books? Well then we’re going to need to get comfortable first aren’t we?” Rex gestures for Fives to come close.

Rex lays down, pulling Fives to lay next to him. Fives lays his head in Rex lap, feeling his hand start to card through his hair. It’s heavenly. Finally a blanket is pulled around the two of them.

“There we go.” Rex smiles, “Now let’s see what stories we have here.”

Rex begins to read the first story to Fives, all while he continues to card his hand through his hair. He knows like the others that Fives biggest weakness is having his hair played with. It’s always a go-to to calm him down or in this case put him to sleep.

And it works perfectly. As the story goes on Fives can no longer fight the sleepiness any longer. He eventually gives in and falls asleep against Rex.

For good measure, and maybe because he’s curious, Rex finishes the story before he checks on Fives. Looking over he sees the Little is in a deep sleep thankfully, arms wrapped around Rex. He looks over to the other Littles and Caregivers and finds that everyone is peaceful asleep.

He decided to join them, feeling exhausted himself. He pulls Fives close and wraps their blanket around them more snuggly. With a little kiss to the top of his head he whispers “Good night kiddo.” Then Rex starts to sleep himself.

The barracks of the 501st remain peaceful throughout the night. Caregivers holding onto their Littles ones and their Littles reciprocating. All of them happy to have one another.

But soon they’ll find out something interesting…they’re not the only clone force that had this ritual. Which means they’re in store for some playdates in the future or possibly some new babysitters.👀

[bethanydelleman]

Thanks for the tag @firawren & @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 45

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 208,023. And that's a bit surprising because a bunch of my longer fics are only on AHA or my website.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Jane Austen, all novels, Elizabeth Gaskell (Wives & Daughters), and Anne Bronte (The Tenant of Wildfell Hall). I have also technically written Oscar Wilde and My Happy Marriage, but those were very transformative.

I also have written some fics based on Kdramas, mostly for Alchemy of Souls.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Ride to Netherfield - Jane breaks her leg on the way to Netherfield and must stay for a month. Short one-shot (6k) and the first Pride & Prejudice variation I wrote.

Of Every Elizabeth - short and sweet Pride & Prejudice fluff, Darcy has nicknames for the plethora of Elizabeth's he's met over the course of his life (it was a super common name at the time)

Carry Me! - three vignettes of Jang Uk and Cho Yeong from Alchemy of Souls after they are married

The Fourth Bennet Sister - long fic (30k words), Pride & Prejudice variation where Kitty Bennet becomes aware that she is in a novel. She desperately tries to protect her sisters from harm.

All's Fair in Love and War - short Pride & Prejudice variation. Mrs. Bennet has weaponized compromise, men live in constant fear of being forced to marry.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yep. Every time.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Umm.... I'm not good at writing angst. I don't like characters to suffer for too long.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them?

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yes, because I dared to write Mr. Darcy marrying Anne Elliot. People get more angry about that for some reason than Elizabeth Bennet marrying Captain Wentworth in the same fic. Someone even told me Darcy would rather "throw himself off of Pemberley" rather than marry anyone other than Elizabeth. (Fic is called One Week Late)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have written smut a few times, it's pretty vanilla because I am pretty vanilla. I was reading Victorian erotica when I wrote my longest one, A Little Before Their Marriage (Jane & Bingley fic).

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I constantly write crossovers, my first published novel is a massive crossover, Prideful & Persuaded. One of my fun shorts is Fall on the Sword, where every canonically single woman in Austen's novels decides if they want to try for the recently divorced Mr. Rushworth.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, though someone did translate one of my meta posts from Tumblr. That was cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, The Marriage Contest with Branch Cloudsky and two with Amelia Marie Logan, Poor Caroline and Inferior Connections. All Pride & Prejudice fics, all funny. (You need an AO3 account for that one, the other two are on my personal website)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? Catherine Morland & Henry Tilney. They are the only Austen couple I cannot bear to break up.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am writing a queer retelling of Emma called "Different Ways of Being in Love", where Jane Fairfax and Emma were lovers as teenagers, Jane is bi, Emma is a lesbian, and Mr. Knightley is ace, but I got stuck on the middle part. Someday hopefully!

16. What are your writing strengths? I'm told I write some pretty hilarious farces. I am told I do characterization well, which is my main goal when writing fan fiction. I try to stick as close to canon as possible.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I don't write enough filler or develop things well enough. I like writing action.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I would possibly try my hand at French, but probably never. I also have a lot of trouble reading accented speech (looking at you Wuthering Heights), so I'd probably never write it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I am fairly certain I started writing a fix-it fic for Nineteen Eighty-Four after I read it in high school. Not sure I would be able to locate it but it did exist. The first since I started writing again was a sequel to Pride & Prejudice.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Probably Unfairly Caught (my other published work) or The Fourth Bennet Sister. I NEEDED to write a Mansfield Park fic because I hate the ending, so it fixed my dissatisfied feelings. My goal is to edit The Fourth Bennet Sister and get it published sometime this year.

@wurzelbertzwerg, @kehlana-wolhamonao3 and @bad-at-names-and-faces

[princessdimondheart]

Rave | Gaz x Reader

Pairing: Gaz x f! Reader

Summary: How Kyle met the love of his life while covered in holo glitter.

WC: 2,930

Warnings: 🔥- NSFW 18+ MDI, PnV, unsafe sex, creampie, oral f! receiving; 😭- slight angst

Edited: No; added Sarah’s outfit bc I forgot 🤦‍♀️

A/N 1: Sorry for the long wait as I healed my cut finger. It still hurts btw. I said Christmas didn’t I? It’s still Christmas here lol 😅😅 Reader is nicknamed Angel. My first smut 😳 If I messed up anywhere please tell me. I’m not 100% satisfied so I might add or change things later on.

A/N 2: I could not pick which outfit reader should wear. 😖 It’s between these two= Outfit 1 and Outfit 2: Top, Bottom ; the makeup is the same for both= Eyes, Lips ; Shoes for both but matte instead of velvet ; Nails are a bit more simple ; Kyle’s outfit will be linked in the fic. I’m not a fashion expert so I’m not sure if these fit well but I like them. I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment or note if you do. 😊

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Kyle was happy when Price decided to send him on a special training mission across the pond to the states, at least he was for a while. But then FOMO hit him when he realized that he would be missing out on a few missions. The training would last for a few months. Two months too long in his opinion, but here he was those months later and he had finally completed his training. Kyle was certain that his Captain would be proud to learn that he had made it to the top of the class. 

Now, he only had a few days left before he had to ship back out to the UK. He’d planned to chill in the barracks and maybe go to a bar for a couple of drinks. However, that was not the case when he received a random text from his cousin. 

Sarah had moved out to California from their hometown after she got accepted into UCLA. She was very excited when she heard about her acceptance. Kyle believed it was because she could now party it up without the scary eyes of their very religious grandmother baring down their necks. At least that’s how he felt when he first left home to join the military. 

Sarah had invited him to go out to a festival or perhaps it was a rave? He wasn’t sure because he had never been to one before so this was sure to be a new experience. He’d never been one to party, even less given that he’s living a military and not a typical college life style. However, he can say that he can handle his own with a couple of pints. 

He glanced back to her text to make sure that he had input the address correctly. He was lucky that her new home wasn’t too far from the base he was staying at so he could take the bus that ran through the base. Sarah had decided that the gloomy skies of England were no match to the sunny skies of Los Angeles, so after graduating she found a job in engineering and found a place to call her own. He was honestly happy for her and was genuinely surprised that she had messaged him since they had not talked in several years. He had a suspicion that their grandmother called her about him being there. 

The bus stop was only a few blocks away from Sarah’s house so he had to walk the rest of the way. It was early, almost 8 am on a Saturday, so Kyle was certain that his cousin was likely still sleeping in. He made sure that his walk took longer by taking in his environment. It must have been because of his military mindset that had him checking the area for security risks. He knows that L.A. has a bad rep but his cousin living in a decent neighborhood didn’t mean that there were no risks. Kyle didn’t see that many people out that early. Only a few dogs walkers and a mother pushing a stroller with a baby that seemed not too happy to have been woken from their sleep based on theirs incessant crying. Kyle winced when they walked by. 

Kyle made it to his cousin’s door in 15 minutes. She opened the door after two knocks with a few minutes in between. 

“Kyle! You’re here!” She engulfed him in a tight hug, her arms squeezing against his torso with enough strength to pop his back. “Ahhh!! It’s been forever!”

“Gah!” He wheezed as his arms were crushed to his sides. “You have gotten a lot stronger, Sarah. Please let me go.”

“Oh! Sorry. Sorry. I get a bit excited about this stuff. You know me!” Sarah let him go and cover her mouth with her hand to try to hide her laughter. Then, she flexes an arm. “I just did arm day so I’m pretty pumped.”

Kyle laughs, “Your noodle arms are nothing compared to mine.” He teased her while flexing his larger arm muscles. It was like they were back to being kids and laughing and making fun of each other. 

“Har. Har. Kyle!” She rolled her eyes and gestured into her home. “Get your ass inside, Popeye.”

“Who?” His brow rose. She stared at him blankly. 

“Just get in, you uncultured swine!” Sarah started pushing his back to get him in. He resisted of course, but after a few seconds he let her have her way and stepped through the threshold. 

They settled on the couch and began to catch up. He learned about her job and that although it wasn’t her dream job, she was still happy about working there. Kyle didn’t tell her that much about his work being that almost all of it was classified but he shared that he too enjoyed working with his team. Overall, they were happy that the other was happy. 

“Now, what’s this about a rave? Festival?” Kyle felt like he didn’t know what he was saying. “You wanted to go out later tonight?”

“Yeah! It’s a rave with festival vibes.” Sarah explained and he nodded along. “We have to dress up a bit so we can look cool I guess. That’s why I wanted you to come a bit early, though not this early!” 

“Sorry.” She chuckled at him. 

“Don’t worry about it. I should have known that with you military types that I should have specified the exact time. That’s on me. But! Now we have more time to go over what you’re going to wear!”

If Sarah could be more excited she’d be bouncing off the walls and out the door. Her face bright like the huge grin pulling at her lips. 

“Oh… I was just gonna go like this.” He gestured at himself but apparently that did not go over so well with Sarah. She had a grossed out face. 

“A button up with kakis? What are you Jake from State Farm?” Another cultural reference that he lacked an understanding of. Sarah’s accent had become more Americanized but her British voice would shine through on the occasion. “No, no, no! I will not be seen with you dressed like that, love!”

She stood up. “I think I know what to do.”

Kyle almost panicked. “Please, no cheeks handing out and nothing too girly.” His brows furrowed together. “Damn… what would my team say if they saw me like this??”

“They’d say nothing because they would see that you had girls hanging off of you. You know some girls like men who are in touch with their feminine side?”

“I don’t have a feminine side.” He pouted. 

“Well, now you do!” Kyle cursed himself at being more open about what she could dress him in. He just hoped no pictures made it back to the Task Force. 

~~~~~

Kyle and Sarah walked amongst the crowd heading into the music festival grounds. There were so many people there, and from what he could see, not so many security guards or police. His training had him looking around and eyeing any suspicious looking people. Although that was kinda hard when every other person had their ass and titties hanging out, with even more glitter on their bodies than he had. 

They made it through security which was just a metal detector and the guards checking their bags. Then their passes were scanned and off into the throng of people they went. 

“My friends texted that they were near the food stalls.” Sarah glanced up from her phone. “I told them we’d meet up with them. Come on, let’s go!”

She took off and Kyle followed after her. He felt like a protective older brother as he glared at anyone who gave her weird looks of lust. Sarah was pretty and everywhere she went she always garnered looks of appreciation from strangers. She was currently wearing a yellow outfit that complimented her skin tone rather well. Her hair was long and styled back in curls. Large hoops adorned her ears. She was also wearing a large yellow coat which he thought she was crazy for because of the heat, but she assured him that it would get colder as the night went on. He was certain that her new white shoes wouldn’t stay that way afterwards. 

~~~

His own outfit wasn’t too bad if he was honest, although the sheer crop top was new for him. He liked the baggy pants that Sarah picked out and he paired it with his black combat boots. Sarah had given him two thumbs up and started messing around with her makeup bag. He was checking his outfit out in front of the mirror when he saw a hand with a makeup brush making its way to his face. 

“Woah! What’ya doin’!?” He pushed her hand away. Sarah huffed. 

“Just adding to the vibes. Come on it’s just some glitter, you’ll look so hot that girls will be falling all over you.” She grinned. 

“You say that but I’m not so sure…” He squinted at her. 

“Ugh! Just let go!” She shook her arm around. 

“Okay, Elsa.”

“Bitch-!”

~~~~~

Sarah found her friends in the crowd by the food stalls. She squealed and yanked on his arm in their direction. Introductions were made and the group went together where the concerts were happening. The crowd wasn’t as pushed together as Kyle thought but he never took his eyes off the group for too long, not wanting to lose sight of his cousin. Call him overprotective if you want. 

They found a spot near the middle of the crowd. The girls danced around him and he bobbed his head to the music despite it not being to his taste. Maybe he tapped his foot but he won’t admit it. Although, he’ll admit that the live band was rather good. 

From the corner of his eye he saw arms shoot up and wave around. He followed the movement down and saw the form of a girl dancing and singing along to the song. Her wrists had multiple beaded bracelets, fingernails perfectly manicured. Her lips were in a smile, sparkling with her lipgloss, and her eyes reflected the bright colors of the strobe lights. Her makeup was pretty but he had no real knowledge about that. The more he looked the wider his eyes dilated. 

The girl wore a black three-piece bra, high-waisted bikini bottoms and skirt-wrap combo with flowers and tuffs of faux feathers. Her arms had long sleeves and she wore a matching choker necklace. Chains dangled from her form and bounced as she jumped and danced. His eyes lowers down her legs and to her feet in very tall heels that he was amazed she was jumping around in. He thought she’d break an ankle. 

When his eyes went back to her face, she was already looking at him. Brow raised in question and lips slightly pouted. Damn those lips. He flinched back a bit when their eyes connected. His cheeks burned at realizing she caught him eyeing her up. 

“Hi!” She said rather shyly, or really, she yelled over the music. 

It took him a moment to respond. “Hello, Miss?”

She yelled her name but said that everyone called her Angel, and he gave his own in return. The music changed to a faster beat and the people around him were dancing closer to each other. 

“Wanna dance?” Her hand reached for his, fingertips sliding softly up on his forearm. He could feel the slight scratch of her nails. It sent shivers up his back. 

He felt like a teenager with the slight nod to her question he gave. His damn voice was caught in his throat. He was better than this. Smoother at flirting with pretty ladies but right now all of his experience was failing him. 

She giggled at him, not that he could hear it but felt it as she drew herself closer to his chest. Her breasts pressed to his shear shirt. Her hips swayed with the music and his hands automatically rested themselves there. Angel raised her hands, gliding them on his chest. Her fingers teased the sides of his throat before curling behind his neck. 

As her nails scratched the short hairs there, he brought her hips closer to his. She was definitely aware that she was affecting him physically. He ground his hardness against her. They both moaned at the feeling. His eyes were droopy with lust, they glanced at her pouty lips. Someone from behind bumped him closer and he let his lips lock with hers. 

Kyle’s hand tangled in her hair pulling her closer. She moaned and his tongue slipped past and tangled with hers. He tasted her lipgloss and the sweetness of the alcohol she drunk earlier that night. Both reveled in each other’s touch. 

The moment was cut short by whoops and whistles to their left. When they separated, Kyle looked over and saw his cousin and her friends cheering him on. Sarah must have noticed that he wasn’t as close to them as before. His cousin gave him a thumbs up and a fist pump. The girl in his arms hid herself in his chest, her cheeks warming. As if she wasn’t just grinding up on him as they were making out. 

“Ah… sorry, that’s my cousin and her friends.” He chuckled, abashed. 

“It’s okay.” Angel smiled at him, taking in his pretty eyes. 

~~~~~

They spent the next few hours dancing, kissing, and occasionally touching more than what would be socially acceptable. During one of the set changes, Kyle introduced her to his cousin and her friends. They hit it off rather quickly. At the end of their night, Sarah decided to stay overnight with her friends and Kyle chose to go home with Angel after she invited him. Her apartment wasn’t too far from where they were at anyways. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t usually do this. Bringing home a stranger.” She glanced down. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t do that either.” His lips tugged into a small grin. 

She looked up at him and smiled softly. Her eyes drifted to his lips. Kyle noticed and began to inch forward until their lips met. It was soft. Her lips and the motions were slow and sweet. Very different to the one in the heat of the festival. Her hands rubbed up his mesh shirt, nails scratching softly through the thin fabric before clasping tightly behind his neck. His own hands rubbed on her waist in slow circular motions. 

Their kisses and touches ached and Kyle began to quickly lead her back into the room. Not that he knew where he was going. His first mistake as the beautiful woman he was currently in a delicious lip lock fell from his arms. 

She yelped when her body hit the back of her couch. The suddenness of it causing her to tip backwards. She landed on the plush cushions with a soft ‘oof.’ Kyle looked down at her in shock, mouth open but no words came out. Part of her legs and feet dangled over the top. She looked up at him, eyes glancing back and forth between his own, dumbfounded before her the corners of her lips turned up and a giggle started. Then it turned into full blown laughter. Kyle grinned at her cute reaction and joined with a chuckle. 

She lifted her hands up to him and as he began to pull her up, she yanked him down over the couch with her. Giggling all the while. His arms stretched out to catch himself on the cushions. He could barely think before her lips were on him once again. This time there was more heat to it. More passion. 

Her hands were cupping his face. Fingers rubbing softly against his freshly shaven face. He shifted their bodies into a more comfortable position and put his weight onto one arm before bringing the other hand up. He let it glance lightly against her body until it rested softly against the crook of her neck and shoulder. His thumb rubbing her neck with an equal softness. 

He felt more than he heard the soft groan that left her lips, muffled by his own. Her legs shifted and he felt her knees up against his hips. Kyle gave into the temptation and lowered his lower body until he was flush against her. This time he heard her moan. He shivered in delight. 

Her tongue flicked out to lick his lips and he let her in. Their tongues danced against one another. Damn he loved the taste of her. 

Angel pushed him back so that she could reach behind her to unclip her top. His mouth immediately latched on her nipple. Her back arched, a pleasured sigh escaping her lips. She felt herself getting wet, her slick soaking her black bottoms and she bucked her hips into Kyle’s. His moan vibrated through her chest. 

Kyle kissed her chest some more before sliding back and removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Her hands helped him pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

“Where’s your bed?” He held her hands and helped her up off the couch. Angel led him to her room, she removed the rest of her clothes and heels and laid her bare self on the soft bed. Kyle stood by the doorway and just stared at her beauty. Her legs were slightly open and he could see the glimmer of her slick weeping from her pussy. 

Angel’s face burned at his intense gaze. “Kyle?”

That broke him out of his lustful haze, swiftly removing his boxers. He hung heavily, his arousal twitching against his navel. The tip flushed and his veins throbbing. Angel licked her lips as he grew closer. 

Her hand reached for his cock but was quickly intercepted by Kyle’s larger hand. “Let me…”

Angel let herself fall back as Kyle took his place between her legs. Instantly sucking and licking at her soaked pussy. His hands held firmly on her thighs, not letting her rub against his head. Kyle’s tongue flicked on her clit and she moaned rather loudly that she was sure she’d get a complaint about it later. 

“Oh, fuck! Kyle!” Her nails scratched at his short hair. 

The wet, juicy sounds of her slick and Kyle’s sucking turned her own, making her even more wet. He licked stripes up and down her pussy, then slipped a finger in rather easily. She was panting now, little moans interdicted with louder ones. 

He added a second and then a third, really stretching her out for him. The bed sheets had her juices pooled beneath her. His fingers pumped faster and his mouth sucked harder on her clit. She moaned loudly as her walls clamped down on his fingers as she orgasmed around them. The sounds coming from her nearly made Kyle cum but he held the base of his cock with his free hand to stop his load from blowing too early. 

His fingers slipped from her pussy and he watched as her slick lips clenched around nothing. 

“Kyle, please…” Her eyes were pleading, flicking between his eyes and his straining dick. 

“Angel…” He moaned as he tapped his tip against her clit. She wiggled her lower half in an attempt to get him inside her. She whined when he pulled away but groaned as Kyle pushed his tip just barely inside. 

He huffed and then pushed all the way in, earning himself beautiful, pleasure-filled noises. He was halfway in when she half sat up and pulled him closer, locking their mouths in a heated kiss. His hips jerked forward the final few inches until their hips were touching. His arms and thighs shook from the pleasure he was feeling. Her plush pussy was sucking him in, clenching against his thick cock. Desperately trying to milk him for what he’s got. And he had a lot to give. 

The first few thrusts were overstimulating, so Kyle went torturously slow. It didn’t last too long before he was pounding into her sweet pussy faster. Their bodies coming together created wet lewd sounds. His cum filled balls slapped against her ass with each hard connection. Kyle could feel her wetness dripping down his balls. The viscous fluid becoming creamier with each thrust. 

“There ya go, love.” Kyle panted. “Look at those tits bouncing every, every time I fuck my cock into ya.”

He looked down at her boobs bouncing with his thrusts. A hand reached out to pinch at her nipple. Her hips bucked in sync with his. 

“Ah! Ah! Kyle!” He pinched and twisted her nipple harder. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He thrusted his cock into her faster than before. His balls beginning to tighten while her walls clenched harder onto him. 

“Kyle~!” Her voice going a higher pitch. The bed creaked with their thrusts. 

“Shit! Ah! That’s it, love!” Kyle’s eyes began to roll back as his creamy cum left his body and streamed into hers. “Yes, ah! Fuck! Fuck!”

The feeling of Kyle’s hot cum squirting into her made Angel cum harder than she’s ever cummed before. Her legs shook violently and her back arched off the bed. Kyle’s pace slowed but her didn’t slip out as he came to a stop. Both panted hard and Kyle wrapped his arms around her, flipping them over still connected. 

A surprised squeak slipped her lips and he chuckled. Then she groaned softly at the new position. He didn’t move, however, instead tightening his hold on her. 

“Cuddler?” She teased, palms splayed over his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating as he took deep breaths. 

“Can’t blame me for hugging an Angel.” The laugh that shook her body was making Kyle giddy. The movement made him groan as her pussy clenched on his softening cock. 

“S-sorry.” She bit her lip. She took the moment to push against him and he let her go. Kicking a leg over, his cock slipped out along with a gush of his cum. “Ah!”

Kyle hissed as his cock slapped against him covered in both their fluids. He felt his dick hardening watching his cum drip from her twitching pussy lips. 

Angel then laid next to him, her head resting against his chest. Her hand reached over his stomach to his hand. She held it as she slipped one of her bracelets she made for the festival over onto his wrist. 

“To remember me…” She said it so softly, he almost missed it if he wasn’t staring at her in awe. His cheeks burned as feelings he’s rarely ever felt before churned in his chest. Her dilated eyes looking back just as fervently. 

On its own, Kyle’s hand reached for her chin pulling her into a deep kiss. She moved over him again, one of his hands on her ass cheek to help not that she needed it. He gave it a tight squeeze making her moan into his mouth. 

They continued their moment together past sunrise. Kyle made sure to bring her pleasure as many times as Angel could take. He hoped he’d spend more time with her in the future but knew it was unlikely since he lived on another continent. Silently, she hoped the same thing. 

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@sae1kie

[saltsicklover]

Part Nine

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4200+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Crying, Tobacco, Smoking, Argument, the mention of death, mention of SA, Bob being heartbroken and fucking angry

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Rooster and Phoenix sit in the Bronco silently and Sunny sleeps in the back seat. They both fidget in their seats. Natasha wiggles, adjusting her whole body. Rooster cracks his knuckles repeatedly. They only make it through the next stop sign before the quiet is broken.

"Did you know Bob smokes?"

"I have so much information on Bob," 

The pair speak at the same time, both of them shooting a glance in the rearview to see if Sunny is still asleep. She doesn't even stir. 

"You first," Bradley speaks again, flicking on his blinker. The signal blinks blinks blinks. Natasha takes a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. 

"Sunny has been talking about this guy who broke her heart, God, Rooster, she has been talking about him for years. I knew his name was Bobby, but fuck, I didn't even stop to think that her Bobby would be our Bob! Hell, Bob is a nickname, and do you even know how many Bobs there are in the world?!" Phoenix's voice is a bit exasperated. Sweat is settling around her hairline even though the windows of the Bronco are down. The breeze blows throughout the cab of the vehicle, prickling gooseflesh takes over her skin. 

She chances a look at Rooster who doesn't pull his eyes from the road. He clears his throat quietly before running the tip of his tongue over his dry lips. He sighs. 

"You can't blame yourself for that, Phoenix. It's not like Bob isn't a common name, or even Robert for that matter. Her Bobby could've been anyone," Bradley squeezes her hand before bringing his own back to the steering wheel. 

"I know a lot about Bob, so much I didn't even know that I knew!" Phoenix's hands are on her head, fingers massaging circles into her temples. Her voice is higher than normal, like the stress it tweaking the octaves. 

"So, you knew Bob smokes?" Bradley brings the conversation back around to his original thought. The vehicle slows for a red light. When they stop, everything is quiet for a beat. 

"I didn't know that I did. As far as I knew, Bob was just Bob. Clean cut, quiet, damn good at his job. I didn't even think he dated, but, oh my god," The color all but drains from Phoenix's face. 

"What is it?" The vehicle begins moving again with the change of the traffic light. 

"Bob fucks," Her voice is so quiet she doesn't even hear herself say it. 

"Phoenix?" Bradley prompts, chancing a glance in her direction. 

"Bob fucks," She tries again, a little louder this time. She wouldn't have thought Bradley heard her if the car didn't swerve a bit as the words left her lips. 

"What?" 

"I guess when they were in school, back in Montana, Bob was some sort of huge player! He was captain of the swim team and broke girls hearts. That was his thing," Natasha works to recall stories from over the years, ones that came in few and far between. Sunny was never big on talking about her school life before they the pair started speaking. But, as time went on, Sunny told Natasha more and more. 

"Sunshine said something about that earlier, too," Bradley nods, turning on his blinker once more. They make the turn into a driveway of a very nice house. It's in a neighborhood about fifteen minutes outside of Base. It seems completely unassuming in the dark, and really it is in the light too. It's in a neighborhood filled with Military members and their families. Their house being one of the only few where the small front yard isn't littered with children's toys. 

"Do you think he is hiding anything else from us?" Natasha's voice is so small now. 

"Hey, Nat," Rooster puts a hand over her own rested on her thigh, "Everyone has a past, that is just a part of life. We aren't going to know everything about each other just because we work together. Just remember, we know Bob, and he has never let us down, so that's gotta account for something, right?"

When Natasha finally exhales the breath she had trapped in her lungs, she all but deflates completely. "I guess you're right," 

"Let's get you two inside," 

"Should we wake her?" Natasha asks, turning to look at Sunny. She has barely changed positions, except her face is turned further into the backrest of the seat. 

"Don't bother, I'll carry her," Bradley tells her with a curt nod. Once the passenger seat is folded forward, Bradley maneuvers Sunny's sleeping form from the backseat and into his embrace. He carries her up the front steps, following after Natasha. 

There is a single light on inside where Bob is sitting, a glass of dark whiskey in his hand. He has changed out of his uniform, now in jeans and a t-shirt. It was rare for anyone to see him like this, so dressed down. His civilian clothes he wore to work were always more put together, khakis and a button down shirt. Bob's glasses sit on the side table, under the lamp. He grasps the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. He runs a finger over the lip of the glass that is balanced on his thigh. 

Natasha and Bradley enter the house. They toe off their shoes, Sunny curled up in Bradley's arm.

Bob chances a quick glace up at them from below his eyebrows but doesn't say a word to the pair. There is a moment before they even realize he is sitting there. The group coming through the door are surprised to find Bob in this state, disheveled and sullen; they are even more surprised when he brings the glass of dark liquid to his lips. They all share glances, no one quite ready to make the first move. Then, Bradley clears his throat lightly as he adjusts Sunny in his arms. 

"I am going to go put her in the guest room," Bradley dismisses himself before disappearing further into the house and up the stairs. He carries her like his father used to carry his mother, minding each of the corners that her body could come in contract with on the way to the bedroom. He twists his hips so her ankle won't catch the banister and he leans to keep her head from making contact with the door jamb. 

Bradley lays her on the bed, her feet hanging off the end. Carefully, he grabs one of her calves, bringing her foot up just high enough to grasp the heel of her boot. He tugs the leather off of her foot before carefully laying her leg back down. He sets the boot at the foot of the bed, toes facing out, just in case she holds the same weird superstition that he does. Then, he grabs her other calf to repeat the process. 

This time though, as he goes to set the boot down next to the other, the warn bit of leather at the opening of the boot catches his eye. He runs a calloused fingertip over the well warn grooves of the leather. He knows exactly what used to sit there, what caused that mark in the first place. 

Something between anger and pity rises in his chest. God, he is angry at Bob for hurting her- but somewhere deep in his subconscious he knows that anger isn't going to get him anywhere. Bradley also pities Bob. He can tell how much the other man has lost from the short amount of time he has spent with Sunny. Bob threw away something that every man dreams of- a girl who is going to show up and love him, regardless of the circumstance. He saw that relationship with his parents, the way they loved each other and how the world stopped the moment his father  was no longer there. Bradley can't imagine anyone throwing that away willingly. 

He sets the other boot down before hoisting Sunny further up into the bed. He brings the sheet over her, leaving the comforter folded halfway down so she doesn't overheat. Then, he leans just above her to push open the window, letting the cool night air drift into the bedroom. 

After, he disappears into the hallway, heading for the laundry closet. He opens the dryer, checking if they are Phoenix's clothes before pulling out a large t-shirt from inside, as well as a pair of shorts. He folds them haphazardly as walks back into Sunny's room. Bradley leaves the garments on the end of the bed before disappearing once again, this time closing the door behind him. 

Bradley slips down the stairs, interrupting Bob and Phoenix's conversation as he enters the room. 

"I got her shoes off and got her settled into bed. She didn't even wake up. I also threw some of your clothes from the dryer at the end of the bed for her. I'll leave you guys to it, goodnight," He crosses to the door, not chancing a look at Bob. He pulls his shoes on almost too quick. 

"Thanks, Rooster," Natasha nods, a thankful expression crossing her features. He nods back with a tightlipped smile before disappearing out the front door. Natasha watches the closed door for a moment before turning back to Bob, her face expressionless. 

The smell of tobacco is stuck to Bob now, from the smoke he had at the Hard Deck, and then the three he had on the way home. The two share a look for a moment, no words needing to be said. Nat moves to the couch across from him. She sits, her hands folded in her lap. Bob still plays with the edge of his glass, his nail running over the glass. 

"Bob," Phoenix starts, "God, I don't even know what to say..."

"I know I fucked up, okay? I don't need to be reminded," He snaps at her, eyes glued to the contents of his glass. 

"Hey, don't bite my head off! I just- I was-" Natasha fumbles over her words before taking a deep breath, starting herself over. "Are you doing alright?" 

Bob's eyes snap up at her words. That was the last thing he was expecting her to ask. 'How could you?' 'What's wrong with you?' or anything else would have made for sense to him. He sputters a bit. 

"Am I doing alright?" His eyes are glassy as they meet hers, "No, I think I'm the furthest thing from alright," He brings the glass up again, shooting the last finger of liquid. He doesn't even grimace and that fact surprises Natasha. 

"Oh, Bob," He shakes his head at her, eyes coming back down to meet the floor. 

"Don't, Phoenix. I dug this grave a decade ago, I guess it's about time I lie in it, huh?" 

"Bob, it doesn't have to be like this," Natasha attempts, her eyebrows pulled together. 

"You don't even know the half of it," Bob rolls his eyes. His tone is snappy and short, like he doesn't even want to entertain the subject. Hell, he doesn't even want to be sitting there with her right now, especially when Sunny is asleep just upstairs. 

The only thing he wants is to walk upstairs and knock on her door. He wants to talk to her, at the point, she could yell at him, curse his unborn children and he would just be happy that he was on her mind. 

As if he hadn't been on her mind for the last ten years. 

"Then tell me!" The words come out as a shout, bristling over Bob as he clenches his empty glass. His throat is desert dry, his heart aching for whiskey and a whiff of Sunny's perfume. 

Natasha doesn't know it, but in front of her sits a broken man. His eyes are bloodshot, the skin around them chapped and aching. He cried as many tears as  his body would allow between the time he left the Hard Deck and the moment Natasha and Bradley walked through the door. 

"You don't get it, do you?" He scoffs. The grip on his glass tightens, his heartbeat pulsing through his fingers. He wants to throw the glass at the wall; he wants to watch the glass shatter, to see the glittering shards sitting on the floor. He knows the slivers of glass would shine just the way the tiles on the bottom of the pool used to. Bob wants to see it because he longs for a moment when he was closer to Sunny, instead of a million miles and one flight of stairs away. 

"I can't understand something that you won't explain to me!" There are tears threating to spill from Natasha's eyes. She is all but begging Bob to tell her what he is feeling. She wants nothing more than to fix this rift that has seemed to open up and swallow her two closest friends. Natasha feels like she is standing in the middle of a gun fight, armed with nothing but her goddamn will. 

"I said things to her that I can never take back Phoenix, you know that. Did you see the way she looked at me? I could practically see her heart breaking through her eyes when I didn't recognize her, Nat. How am I supposed to recover from that?"

"Robert," Phoenix voice starts out confident, but the shaky inhale she takes as her hands come up to wipe at the fallen tears on her cheeks make Bob stutter out another thought before she can continue. 

"Do you even know why I am the way I am Phoenix?" Bob stands, the rage building within him. It's all a large stack of tinder, ready and waiting for that right spark to set it all aflame. 

"I am like this because I wanted to be a better man," He pinches the bridge of his nose so tight the skin around it turns red. "The last time I saw Duchenne, she had told me that-" He stutters out the words, tears building up in the back of his throat.

"That she thought I was different, that I was a 'good man' but I fucking left her Phoenix. I left her sitting there in the dirt with tears in her eyes all because I was afraid of hurting my chances at getting into the goddamn Navy! The Navy, Phoenix, what a fuckin' joke," He laughs out a sort of broken chuckle, one that is dripping with too much knowing. 

"This isn't how it was supposed to be, Natasha. I thought the Navy, the flying, everything would keep me distracted. And maybe, deep down, I had this sick idea that she would've been in our home town, working the ranch and that one day I would hang up my flight suit and walk back into Florence as a good man, as the man she deserves,"

There is bile coating the back of his throat now, his stomach like a ship without a sail in the churning of his insides. He wants to be sick, he also wants another drink- either way his throat will burn and his stomach will continue churning. 

"I am the furthest thing from a good man now Natasha, I always have been, but somehow I think I've fallen even further down. God, let this be rock bottom because I can't take another slip," He practically collapses back down into the seat he had been occupying before. 

"Robert Floyd," Natasha's voice is stern now, thick with authority, "You are one of the best men that I know. You are kind, you are selfless, and you are brave. You get into that jet with me everyday and I know that you will get me home. Do you want to know why?" 

All Bob can do is raise an eyebrow at her. He drags his eyes back down to the whiskey glass still in his grip. He tilts it in his hand, watching the way the lip catches the light, like the shimmering of pool water. 

"Because we made a deal, and good men don't make deals they can't keep and they sure as hell don't back out of 'em either," She is so sure of the words that Bob almost believes her. 

"It was supposed to be different, Natasha," He speaks after a moment, his voice hoarse. 

"So many things in this world are supposed to be different, Bob. I wasn't supposed to lose my first wingman to a fucking false positive drug test causing him to get discharged, and Rooster wasn't supposed to lose his parents so tragically. Hell, even Hangman, he walked in on a sexual assault in progress during flight school and had to be the one to stop it. Life doesn't always go the way we think it will, but we are still here, Bob. We are still here, and we are stronger because of it,"

Bob looks sheepish at best. Completely defeated, like he was kicked while he was down, nursing broken ribs and an aching heart. The look in his eye is what really broke Natasha, because she was speaking before she even realized it. 

"I need to tell you something, okay? So I'm going to need you to shut up and listen to me," Phoenix hits his foot with her own, making the man draw his gaze back up to her. Sunny is going to kill her, but Nat pushes that thought aside. She raises her eyebrows expectantly at Bob. He just nods. 

"The whole time I have known Sunny, she has rarely talked about dating. Every guy she ever went out with never made it past the third date. At first, she told me it was because of some sort of bad habit of theirs or their inability to make conversation. I bought that at first, because I know first hand what it is like out in the dating pool. But then she met Mikael. He worked for the same company she does, but at the branch in Germany. They met in New York over a business trip. They hit it off and for all intents and purposes, he was perfect-"

"Would you quit telling me about some bastard who inevitably broke her heart? It's not going to make me feel better to know someone else fucked up with her too," Natasha kicks him again, her expression all over unpleasant. 

"Would you just listen?" She grumbles, arms crossing over her chest. Natasha can't help but feel a bit of anger flame up in her chest at his disregard, so she kicks his foot again, this time with a little more force. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, he nods in return. 

"They dated for a couple of months and I thought things were going great, then an email landed in my inbox. You want to know what it said?" Natasha pulls her phone from her pocket, unlocking it with a swipe of her finger. Bob hums, eyes watching her out of focus fingers dance across the screen. She clears her throat before beginning. 

"Dear Nash, I broke up with Mikael today. He told me on our last video date that I seemed closed off, guarded. I think he is right. For so long I have been guarding my heart because the last time I let someone in, they shattered it. At least, I thought they did, considering I have been broken hearted ever sense. But, I think my problem is that my heart has been missing. That night, my senior year, Bobby didn't break my heart, he left with it. I guess that's fitting, considering it had belonged to him for so long anyway. Maybe it's self deprecation or maybe it's just stupid, but I think my heart will always belong to Bobby, even if he was the one who caused me so much pain. Actually, I love him in spite of that. I love him, Nash. I always have, and I think I always will, that's why it's never going to work out with anyone else. They aren't him. That's all for now, sending you my love," 

Natasha's voice wavers. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes again, keeping her from looking up to meet Bob's. He sits there, mouth slightly ajar. His fingers have stilled their motion over the glass. His eyes are glassy again, throat constricting in on itself. 

"I don't-" He whispers, "I don't know what to say to that," 

"Bob, that email was from six months ago," Phoenix chances a look up at Bob, a tear escaping. It trails wet and hot down her cheek. "If you are asking me, I think you've got a chance to make things right with her. Now, I'm not saying that it will be easy, or that she will be ready to talk to you, but you've gotta try," 

"I can't hurt her again, Phoenix, I just can't" Tears are slipping quickly down his face. 

"From where I stand, she is already hurt. I think you owe it to her to say what you need to say, hell, I think you owe it to yourself," 

Bob can't believe what he is hearing. Just hours ago, Phoenix was tearing him a new one for hurting Sunny, and now she thinks that he has a chance to fix it? No way in hell. He eyes the glass again in his hand, watching the light dance across it. He pushes himself from his seat, facing away from her. There is tension between the glass in his hand and the wall.

"You really think, after everything I've put her through, that she is going to want to listen to a single word I have to say?"

"I didn't say that," She corrects, "I just said I think you should try. You two might feel better just yelling at each other, who knows? But that's for you to figure out," 

"I don't know if I can, Phoenix, I mean, what's there even left to say?" 

Phoenix stands, a small smile on her lips. "How about what you feel?" 

Bob can only pull his lips into a thin, straight line. She pats his shoulder before heading to the stairs, ready to climb into bed herself.

"You are a good man, Bob," She hums, turning to walk up the stairs. Bob stands still, waiting for the click of her bedroom door. It's faint, but he hears it. Then, his attention is back on the glass in his hand, his eyes flickering up to the wall and back down. He could shatter the glass right now, but what would that fix? It would just be another mess to clean up. 

He lets out a long held sigh before placing the glass down on the coffee table, the crystal hitting the wood with a gentle clink. The light goes out with a flick of a switch and then Bob is climbing the stairs. His joints creak along with the floorboards, both himself and the house too stiff for comfort. 

He pushes open the door to his bedroom. He lets his eyes wander over the bedroom, the whole thing suddenly feeling too clean and kept. 

There was a piece of himself that had been missing for years, that he found tonight as he smoked his first cigarillo in the Hard Deck. The part of himself that hadn't existed since he walked away from Sunny. The unkempt man who fell in love with her. There is an itching feeling in his palms, the need to get back to that man, as least in the most basic way he can, to the man who loved her before everything else got in the way. 

So, Bob pulls his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Then he toes off his boots, leaving them wherever they fall. With a flick of his wrist, his belt is undone. He pulls it through the loops of his jeans before dropping it. The buckle hits the hardwood with a loud thud, the leather snaking after it. Once Bob pushes his jeans down and off, he feels like he can breathe for a moment, finally, even if it is just a moment. It's deep and full, the oxygen filling his chest. He shudders. 

Bob pushes open his window, letting the chilled night breeze invade his room. The mess on the floor makes his heart feel a little more at ease, like he has some semblance of control. He dips down to grab his jeans, then pulls the silver cigarette case out of the back pocket. 

He slips a cigarillo between his lips before igniting a match. He lights his smoke before shaking out the flame. The only light in the room is the burning ash at the end of his small cigar, the room quickly filling with the deep smell of tobacco. 

Bob lets his eyes wander to the bathroom door as he takes a long drag. The smoke fills his lungs, grounding him to this moment, and this moment alone. He smokes this cigarillo, then another, letting his mind drift to thoughts of Sunny and how she must look, tangled up in the crisp white sheets, a thousand miles away, but one flight of stairs closer.