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jo-com · 16 days

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‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ ➛ Shots

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: You guys are used to having people send out free drinks because they fancy Oscar, but when it was your turn he did not like it one bit. (Inspired by the oneshot I’ve read, I forgot who the author was sorry😭)

Genre: Fluff

Note: nothing, just look out for grammatical errors and this is not proofread

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The sun radiated brightly emitting a soft glow that shined over the flesh of your skin— it was creating a rather medium type of shade the longer it sets on your body.

You don’t mind it though, as long as you were relaxed and rested in the embrace of you boyfriend; everything was just okay.

You and Oscar, along with his fellow drivers decided to have a day off at the beach. It was trip that has been long overdue, due to their busy schedules the trip was postponed one to many times.

So when they had their day off, the lot of them took advantage of it and agreed to pay the beach a visit— enjoying the calming atmosphere that surrounds the beach and having to spend time with their significant others. The whole afternoon was nothing but perfect.

After playing volleyball, you guys decided to just chill near the bar lounge and gossip about anything that comes to mind.

You and Oscar sat at the middle in between Carlos and Lando. As they talk more and more, your eyes started to drift off; the sound of their voices started to mix the other background clamoring.

Your eyes were closed but was still tentative— you could still feel the brush of air that lightly ran over your skin along with Oscar’s fingers that circulates at the curve of your back.

With a low hum, you acknowledged his gesture and was pleased to let him know that you appreciate it.

As time passes by, they were all still happily chatting; laughing at each other’s joke and a bit of yelling but playful one’s of course. Everything seemed to be going so great.

Well not until one of the staffs walked towards their way, holding a tray that consists of one drink.

The whole group looked curiously as the man settled the drink in your table. The loudness of their voices suddenly died down—all eyes looking intently at the man whose just doing his job.

With the sudden quietness, curiously you fluttered your eyes open. Not being able used to the sound of silence, you propped your body up and was now leaning your whole body at Oscar’s chest.

Your eye’s widened as all attention was onto you— you felt the intense feeling of being stared at back of your head.

“Good day ma’am, that gentleman over there wanted to give you this” he spoke, his hand then went to his vest and pulled out a piece of paper.

The waiter handed you the note and left, right after you took the piece of paper.

“What does it say?” Max asked, just as curious as the others.

“I’d like to know as well” oscar spoke, his tone laced with both curiosity and jealousy.

“Well…” you trailed off and then proceeds to open the folded paper.

‘Hey hot stuff, can i have your number??’

You giggled at the childish note, making your friends cock their head to the side, anticipation rushed over them as they try to read the expression off your face.

Meanwhile Oscar was not having it, he caught a glimpse of the note and saw what was written over it. Oh he was not happy at all.

“It’s nothing, just some guy asking for my number, it’s stupid really” you spoke, brushing off the note like it was nothing, i mean it was nothing well for you it was.

For Oscar, it was like all hell broke loose, did that guy not notice Oscar or something?

All the others just laughed; you along with them. It was just a harmless attempt to get to you, it’s not that big of a deal. Oscar gets those every-time and it’s fine cause you know he wouldn’t act on it or anything.

You we’re about to reach for the drink when you felt Oscar’s hand grabbing it first. You turned to his direction and raised your brows at his action.

“Oooh someone’s jealous~” Lando teased, repeating it two more times before laughing out loud. The others heard the commotion that lando started and played along with his jokes.

Oscar rolled his eyes, completely denying his emotion. “I am not jealous, i just think it’s stupid,” he shrugged, trying to play it cool— even though you could tell his true feeling just by looking at his face.

“Yeah right” Carlos replied, earning a fit of giggle from around the group.

“You’re not actually jealous? Are you baby?” You spoke teasingly, chuckling a little at your own words.

“Like i said, i am not” he said in a monotone voice; he was acting childish it was adorable. In your eyes it was— it wasn’t in his.

You then slowly shifted your body to face his and snaked your arms that rested on his shoulder blades. “Don’t take it at heart baby, you know I won’t actually give him my number right?” You whispered, loud enough for him to only hear.

“I know…” he sighed, his arm settled in the plush of your thighs; squeezing the soft surface to find comfort.

“I just don’t like it that i was here and he still asked you, am I invisible or something?” He added. His head hung low to avoid your stare.

A soft giggle left your lips as you grazed your finger over his chin and slowly lift it up, so you could be eye to eye. “Now you know what i feel when someone does that to you, but baby rest assured that i am yours and only yours.”

Oscar slowly smiled and hugged your body close to his,”i love you” he muttered— the hug getting tighter to which you of course accepted happily.

“I love you too, my love” you smiled and pecked his lips; it was short but meaningful kiss of assurance.

The whole day then went fine, sure they were teasing him non stop but it doesn’t affect him that much like earlier because you were there to assure him every-time.

…

Creds to the real owners ideas, this is just my version of it! Hope you like it guys sorry for not posting to much I’ve been in a writers block😭😭

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thelovelyruin · 8 months

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𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you’ve got a crush on choso, and he’s reading the signs.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : college au! smut, fluff, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, praise, teasing, overstimulation, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.7K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, here I am with another choso fic. thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I got my sights set on you, and I'm ready to aim.

“And, this is Choso!”

Now, you couldn’t remember whose idea it was to go to the fair (probably Yuuji), but at this moment, you were too grateful. To think you were going to miss out on this because you would’ve instead worked on classwork that was due NEXT week. Mai begged you to take a break, and you agreed to go like a good best friend. And thankfully, you did, cause if not, you would’ve never met him.

I have a heart that will never be tamed.

Choso was a little awkward. Nervous, for sure, but he had that demeanor that told you he was a lot more chill when he gets comfortable. Now the question was, why wouldn’t he be comfortable? That was, of course, because he was meeting you. Nonetheless, his ambition drove him to initiate a conversation with you, putting his anxiety on the back burner and acting “normal.”

“So, you’re Mai’s friend?”

Obviously, you were. A blush crosses your face, giving an awkward smile before looking at Mai. She understood immediately, face lighting up a bit when she realized you had the hots for him. With a smirk, she looked at him.

“Uh, yeah! She’s my best friend, can’t you tell?”

Choso directed his attention at Mai, giving her a squinted look. Not that he didn’t appreciate her, but he was already having a hard time talking to you, and she definitely wasn’t making it easy.

“Well, now I do. Thanks for the clarification, ma’am.”

“No problem, sir.”

She jabbed his arm, causing him to chuckle. Looking back at you, he smiled a bit.

“Hopefully, you aren’t as crass as your friend here.”

“I try not to be.”

“Hey, what the hell does that mean?”

You were giggling now, loosening up as you realized there wasn’t much to be nervous about. Choso was just a normal guy, a really hot, normal guy. That didn’t stop you from tucking your hair behind your ear nervously, it was so damn obvious you were flustered, but Choso was none the wiser.

I knew you were something special when you spoke my name; now I can't wait to see you again.

“Hey Choso! We’re heading over to the rides.”

Yuuji was now walking over to you guys, patting Choso on the back. When he noticed you standing there with Mai, his face lit up with surprise.

“So, Mai got you to come out and play! You do magic on her or something?”

“NO, I DID NOT. You guys are assholes, she came out on her own volition!”

Now, you and Yuuji have known each other for a while, but he’s just as irritating now as he was when you met him freshman year.

“I thought it would be fun to relax a bit and decompress from studying.”

Choso perked up at your comment, grateful to have something, anything, to work off of.

"Oh wow, what're you studying?"

Almost instantly, everyone’s eyes were on Choso. Mai looked at him intently, mostly in shock. You looked at him more relaxed, prepared to have a normal conversation with him. But Yuuji, as oblivious as usual, did not catch on to Choso trying to make conversation with you.

“Well, as much fun as this little chat is, I’ll be stealing Choso now. Inumaki and the others are waiting for us so we can ride a few rides.”

With that, Yuuji was hauling Choso with him to somewhere in the fair. But what you did not expect was Choso looking back at you, giving you a little wave, then turning to tell off Yuuji.

I've got a way of knowing when something is right.

“So, your friend…”

Mai shot the water into the target, attempting to get one of those oversized stuffed animals for the past ten minutes. When she lost again, she slammed another 5-dollar bill on the counter, demanding another turn.

“Yeah, you talkin’ about Choso?”

The game reset and she went to town. Mai was deadlocked on the target with the precision of a sniper. But, 30 dollars later, she finally won. Cheering and practically ripping the stuffed dino off the rack, she looked at you with sparkles; she was so damn proud of herself. After that, you two decided to get some fair food.

“Yeah, him.”

Pointing to the funnel cake stand, Mai dragged you closely behind her; you were attempting to catch up as fast as possible. She quickly ordered you guys a funnel cake; of course, the two of you had to share.

“You like him? I can totally tell. You looked like you were a pot about to boil over.”

You start scoffing, laughing nervously as you feign offense to her comment. But she really wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, well, YOU say that! Do you think he noticed?”

"Babe, he totally noticed. Choso isn't the type to say something though, so whether he did or didn't, the world may never know."

You grab the funnel cake from the window, finding a picnic table to set up base. Mai was giving you that look now, that one she gives when she has an idea, and that’s never good.

“What the hell are you-”

“You know, he’s single. Haven’t seen him talk to a girl since freshman year, and that wasn’t very long.”

“Shouldn’t that be a red flag? What if he’s an asshole?”

“Oh, he’s far from that. If anything, I just think he can’t get laid to save his life. BUT, then there’s you.”

You avert your eye contact with Mai to the floor, too embarrassed to look at her.

“Look, you don’t have anything to worry about with him. He’s a nice guy and I’m sure he’d treat you well, in more ways than one.”

She winks at you as you jab her on the shoulder. As much as you loved her, she could be a pain in the ass, but as she would say, ‘your pain in the ass.’

I feel like I must've known you in another life, cause I felt this deep connection when you looked in my eyes.

After finishing the funnel cake, you guys walk about the fair, looking for another game to play, that is, until a set of hands comes in front of Mai’s eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Yuuji, get your paws off my face or I’m gonna beat your ass.”

With a pout, he lowered his hands, sneering at her when she turned around. As you turn to face him, you see Choso standing beside him, already looking at you. Reacting to the eye contact, he awkwardly puts a hand behind his neck.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hi, um… how were the rides?”

“They were good until Megumi and Inumaki threw up, so Todo drove them back to the dorms.”

Yuuji then looks around you and Mai, a confused look on his face.

“What about you guys? Where’s everyone else, or did Mai scare them off?”

“Yuuji, you’re on thin ice. We came by ourselves, GIRL’S night out.”

“Well, me and Choso are doing the same, isn’t that right?”

Choso looked at Yuuji like he had two heads.

“You mean when you badgered me for an hour so I’d come with you guys? Boy’s night out, for sure.”

You chuckled at Choso’s rebuttal, which didn’t go unnoticed by Yuuji. From that, Yuuji looked at Mai, who looked at you, then at Choso, prompting Yuuji to do the same.

“Well, what’s a little get-together, am I right?”

“Weren’t you just adamant about the boy's night out thing?”

“Yes, Choso, I was, but I’ve had a change of heart. They'll be riding the rollercoaster with us, isn’t that right, Mai?”

You shoot a panicked look at Mai, and simultaneously, Choso shoots the same to Yuuji.

“Yeah, Yuuji. You’re right. Let’s head over now.”

You and Choso’s eyes met, quickly blushing and averting your gaze. In that moment, you knew you were, to put it simply, down bad.

Now I can't wait to see you again.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

Now, rollercoasters weren’t usually your thing, but when Mai gave you that puppy dog look, you couldn’t tell her no. She and Yuuji ran to the gate, leaving you and Choso behind to walk there, neither of you as excited as your friends.

“Looks like it’s a two-seater. Well, Mai, I think we should ride together!”

“You know what, Yuuji? That’s a great idea.”

You yanked at Mai’s sleeve, meeting her wide smile. The fuck are you doing? you whispered to her, still smiling in an attempt to act normal. Helping you out, duh, she whispered back, gently removing your hand from her shirt. As the ride attendant opened the gate, Yuuji and Mai flew to the front seat, leaving you and Choso on the bay.

“Is there, uh, anywhere in particular you want to sit?”

“The middle to back is fine!

With that, Choso guided you to a seat, holding your hand to help you sit in the cart. He sat down softly as you frantically looked for the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help you with-”

He noticed the harness sat right on top of your chest, which, if he wasn’t blushing before, he was completely flustered now. You both waited awkwardly for the ride attendant to strap you in.

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

Yuuji, extremely excited about the thrill of the ride, turned around and shot a thumbs-up at Choso. What did that mean? God, it was so obvious even Yuuji could tell. Or did Mai say something? They had been looking back and forth, which could be-

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Well, you couldn't tell him the obvious answer, of course. You boggled your brain, trying to come up with a lie to say. But then he wrapped his arm behind your head, resting it on your neck. You were about to combust. You damn near shook with both anxiety AND rouse.

Felt like I couldn't breathe; you asked what's wrong with me.

“Somethin’ wrong? Sorry, I should’ve asked first.”

He began to retract his arm.

“No! I'm fine, you’re all good haha.”

You decided just to shut up and shoot him an awkward smile, preparing for the ride that began to take off.

“Good, can’t have you scared. Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

Oh, it was gonna be over soon, alright, because you were gonna pass out from the feeling of him bringing you into his chest.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself, my heart it can't rest 'til then.

You couldn’t get off that fuckin’ ride quick enough. You unbuckle yourself swiftly, running over to Mai, who was still talking to Yuuji.

“Hey there! How was the ride?”

“It was great, but I think we should really get going!”

She looked at you in concern, then at Choso walking up behind you guys, and then at Yuuji, who was confused per usual. Before Choso could walk up, you put your head down and walked down the bay, stopping at the ride's exit.

“M’kay, bye!”

You were too embarrassed from getting all worked up over an arm; you couldn’t even face him. Mai stood there talking to both Yuuji and Choso, obviously upset, with Choso putting his hand up in a confused motion. God, this was torture. After a couple of minutes, Mai walked up to you, patting you on your back. And with that, you guys went back to your dorm.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

I got this crazy feelin' deep inside when you called and asked to see me tomorrow night.

You had just got in bed for the night, still coming down from the roller coaster, both the physical and emotional one. What were you doing? It was a perfect opportunity to talk to him, and you screwed it up. Now, he’s probably-

You’re interrupted from your thoughts by your phone ringing. You take it off the charger and turn down the brightness, reading the screen. A random number? This late? You almost declined the call, but then the asshole in you had the idea to answer and give the night caller a piece of your mind. You click the green button, putting your phone up to your ear, an arsenal of insults on standby.

“Who is this? You know it’s 11 p.m., right?”

“Oh, um, sorry. It’s Choso. Didn't realize it was so late, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Your heart dropped to your ass. Choso? How the hell did he get your number? Then, it struck you, when he and Mai talked on the bay. You shift your whole mood from threatening to weak in the knees.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! Sorry, thought you were a scam caller.”

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve texted you first. Happy you still accepted the call, though.”

“So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to, uh, apologize for earlier. Wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable or anything like that.”

You began pacing around the room, trying to keep quiet and not wake Mai.

“Oh, no, I just, um, it was nothing, I was just, um…”

“I was nervous, too, to be honest. I mean, I was scared I blew my chances with you.”

You stalled your movements in disbelief at what you had just heard.

“I don’t think I, uh heard you right, could you-”

“Can I take you out tomorrow night?”

You had to turn off the mic; you couldn’t help but scream into your pillow. After gaining composure, you turned the mic back on.

“What did you have in mind?”

“How’s a movie? Yuuji said you wanted to watch that new one, Human Earthworm 3, I think?”

So, Yuuji had said something to him. To be fair, they were brothers, so that would happen eventually, but you felt something itch inside you at the thought of all the things Yuuji could have said.

“So, uh, is that a yes?”

“Oh! Um, yeah, I mean, yes, sure. What time?”

“Be ready at 6.”

You were about to begin jumping around like a goddamn maniac.

“Okay, got it.”

“Okay, see you, tomorrow, angel.”

Before he hung up the phone, you could hear Yuuji cheering in the background. What the actual fuck just happened. Like clockwork, Mai jumped up, smirking. She’d been awake this whole time.

“So, he had the balls to ask you! I wasn’t expecting that one.”

I'm not a mind reader, but I'm reading the sign that you can't wait to see me again.

Now, it’s not like you were super excited about the date or anything. Not when you started getting ready at 12 despite you needing to be ready at 6, or when you repainted your nails, or when you waxed yourself, or when you were asking Mai which outfit you should wear.

“Trust me, whatever you wear, he’s gonna like it. He’s happy to even be dating you!”

She had a point.

“But Maiiiii, what if he doesn’t like these jeans?”

“Weren’t you wearing jeans when you met him?”

“Ugh, shut up!”

“Whatever ya want, sweetheart.”

You decided to just go for a black dress, which was pretty short, but, come to think of it, wasn’t really a bad idea. But then, what shoes were you gonna wear? Which purse would-

Your phone lit up, a text from Choso.

“Outside :)”

Shit, it was six already. You started to panic, looking for anything else you were missing. As you turn around, Mai’s holding a pair of sneakers and a purse to match. You squeal and kiss her on the cheek, rushing to put your sneakers on as you stumbled out the door.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

As you walked down the stairs, you began freaking out. You were about to be alone with Choso for hours, which you were fucking ecstatic about, but you realized you didn’t have the balls for this. But then, you get a thought from Mai, ‘Get it together, bitch!’

Damn it, why was she always right??? Not wanting to make him wait any longer, you sucked it up and walked outside. Choso leaned against his car, wearing a basic black tee covered by an aviator jacket with a pair of cuffed jeans. Damn, he looked good. Little did you know, he was thinking the same about you. That little black dress had him staring, mind trying to picture what might be underneath. You walked up to him quickly, holding your purse awkwardly, noticing his gaze checking you out.

“You look great.”

“Thanks, not too bad yourself.”

You had to contain yourself. Like who, me? You send him a flirty smile as he opens the car door for you, going under his arm to get in the seat.

“You smell damn good too.”

The movie was pretty okay; not like you were really paying attention, though. When you guys sat down in the movie, Choso expectedly draped his arm around you, pulling you close to lay on his chest. What really sent you over the edge was halfway through the movie, when he brought his arm lower, slinking it around your waist, hand resting on your hip. He was dangerously close to your ass, there was that fine, fine line, and he was skating on it, making sure not to move too much in case he did cross that line cause the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable again. After what felt like a year, the movie was over, and people spilled out of the theatre, clearly a full house. You and Choso were stragglers, only a handful of people still sitting around, and when he noticed, he brought his arm back over, nearly making you cry at the retreat.

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

“How’d you like it?”

“It was okay, not as good as the first one. What about you?”

“I haven’t seen the other ones, but it was pretty good!”

Choso stood up, taking a big stretch after sitting for so long. Your eyes immediately caught the slight lift in his shirt, his v-line and lower abs flexed as he groaned a bit, and fuck, it sounded good. He brought his hand down, encouraging you to take it, pulling you up, and putting his hand back around your waist. He held it firm, guiding you out of the theater and back to the car, helping you inside. You were dreading the fact the date was coming to an end; you had to think of something to prolong-

Choso’s phone rings, Yuuji’s contact picture illuminating the screen. With a deep sigh, he answers it.

“What?”

“I take it you’re still out?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Well, bad news. I locked myself out of the room. Can you come here and let me in?”

“I’m on a date, motherfucker.”

“Oh yeah. Bring her with you!”

“Jesus Christ.”

Choso mutes the mic, looking at you. Now, you weren’t exactly looking forward to seeing Yuuji, but spending more time with Choso was your prerogative. You give him a nod and a smile, and his annoyance fades slightly. Unmuting the phone, he rolls his eyes.

“Be there in 10.”

“Thank youuuu!”

“Fuck off.”

The ride back to their dorm was pretty fast, but it was hard to think with Choso’s hand rubbing your thigh. Once again, skating on that fine line of nearly touching a little too far up your dress, but thankfully for the both of you, he had some self-control. Your presence was eating at him, though; every time you smiled, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips or look at your ass as you walked before him, exiting the theater. Thank god your dress covered your chest, cause he’s pretty sure that would’ve killed him too.

You waited for him to open the car door, second nature, to feel his hand on your side. Yuuji sat in one of the chairs in the lobby, perking up at the sight of you guys walking through, then pouting.

“You guys took forever to get here!”

“It was 13 minutes.”

Choso, tired at this point, walked the two of you upstairs to their room. He unlocked the door with annoyance, letting Yuuji and you walk in.

“So, where did you put your keys? I’m not unlocking it again.”

Yuuji walked to the door and stepped outside, rummaging through his pocket and conveniently pulling out his keys.

“Look, they were here all along! That’s so crazy, haha.”

When you and Choso realized what had happened, it was already too late. Yuuji had since locked the door behind him, hearing him laugh as he walked down the hall.

“That fucker had his keys the whole time. Why am I not surprised?”

“Because it’s Yuuji we’re talking about here.”

Choso took a deep exhale and sighed.

Felt like I couldn't breathe, you asked what's wrong with me.

“Sorry about the unnecessary detour, I can go ahead and-”

You brought his lips to yours experimentally, him pulling back to look at you. Damn, you were nervous, but the lack of touch and the lust had completely taken over you, you knew what you wanted, and it was him. You kiss him firmly, pushing him back onto the bed. Instantly, Choso picked your legs up and placed them on either side of him, positioning you in his lap as he kissed you back. All he could seem to do was touch you, exploring your body, hands groping everything he touched.

Out of his mind, horny, he brought your hips down to grind against his, feeling his dick rub against you through his pants, making you moan softly. He was becoming hungry, hands climbing up your dress to unclip your bra, bringing your clothed nipple into his mouth. Indulging in the little moans he pulled out of you was nice, but Choso was fucking selfish. He wasted no time flipping you over so your back lay against the bed, opening your thighs to position himself between them. That little black dress? Choso had stripped it from you, along with that bra, somewhere on the floor of his room. Now, Choso wasn’t a virgin, but the way he stared at your topless body would make it seem like he’s never seen a pair of tits before.

“You’re so damn pretty.”

He brought his shirt over his head, discarding it and his jeans, thinking your panties should go too, but you looked damn good in that thong. So, why not have a little fun? Choso pulled up your panty line, making your thong outline your pussy, soaked lips spilling out the sides, but not quite enough that you were fully exposed. Rubbing your clit through the fabric, you were getting so wet that your thong was soaked in your pre-cum. Wished he had a photographic memory, because he was in love with the sight he got to see when he decided to be nice and finally strip you of your panties. You were on full display to him, and like a siren, you brought your fingers down to spread your lips for him, inviting him to touch you in some way. He had something way better than that; trust. Cause at this point, he was flipping you on top of him, bringing your hips up to him so he could taste his your pussy on his face. You hesitated at first, scared you were gonna suffocate him, but with one look at his face, you knew he didn’t give a fuck. He brought your hips down so your pussy landed on his tongue, then it was go time. Sucking, licking, kissing, he was doing everything he could, addicted to your taste and scent. God, your pussy was delicious. He almost damned Yuuji and Mai for taking this long to introduce you to him. For taking so long to let him date you. For taking so long to let him please you.

“Choso, fuck!”

He was feining for it, the way you were moaning his name like a prayer, and his mouth was something to believe in. That’s why you started gripping his headboard, shamelessly grinding your pussy across his face as you feel your orgasm approaching. You look down at him with those pretty doe eyes, and when they meet his, he starts licking your clit, flapping his tongue as he drew circles around it. Every cycle, every rotation, it was too much.

“I-I-”

You didn’t have to finish that sentence. Knew the second he felt your pussy spasm against his tongue, cumming in his mouth as he continued pleasing you, gripping your hips so you couldn’t move as you rode out your high. Finally, when you started whimpering from overstimulation, he decided to let you go, but you weren’t getting off that easy. Within seconds, Choso had you on your back, legs wide open, as he slid his dick inside your pussy.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself.

You honestly didn’t know you could cum that hard, let alone moan that loudly; so grateful the room next to them was vacant. But it wasn’t until Choso started fucking you slowly that you were losing yourself. He wanted to give you some time to adjust, but you were just so damn sexy, pretty face with an even prettier-

“More, please.”

He was hearing things, for sure. There was no way you were begging him to fuck you, but he fuckin’ liked it.

“More what? Tell me.”

“Fuck me, Choso.”

He didn’t have time to tease you anymore; his dick was aching so bad it could shatter. So, he gave you exactly what you wanted. At first, he kept a steady pace, gripping the sides of your pillow as his hips made you arch your back into him, but fuck, he needed wanted more.

“I’m gonna fuck you a little faster now, that okay?”

“Yes, baby, just give it to me.”

Jesus, you were just trying to drive him insane. That pretty voice of yours calling him baby, he was already grateful you agreed to go on that date with him, but he didn’t expect this to happen (he was hoping he’d fuck you after the second or third date). He sat back on his legs as he lifted your hips to take him deeper, making you repeatedly groan his name. But, nothing could prepare you for how he began fucking you, fast and deep; he fucked you like he needed you, like he fuckin’ craved you. He couldn’t keep your name out of his mouth when he felt your pussy pulling him back in again every time he fell back to fuck you deeper. He started daydreaming about you a bit, what your next date would be like, seeing you every day, walking you to class, and then fucking you after you two completed classwork. The sound of your juices spilling out of your pussy onto his dick snapped him out of it, relishing in the sounds of your wetness and the claps of your ass every time he brought your body onto his. You felt so damn good, bringing your fingers up to touch his chest as he looked you in the eyes. And every time you looked away, he brought a hand up to put your eyes back on his. Because he needed to see how his dick made you feel and show you how good your pussy was taking it.

“I gotta cum baby, need you to cum for me first.”

He pulled out, laying down to eat your pussy again, rutting his dick into his sheets. And when he made you cum for the second time, he slipped back inside, feeling your pussy pulsing with the waves of your orgasm. He came to the sounds of you squealing his name, your pussy milking him for all he’s worth.

My heart, it can't rest 'til then.

That was the best sex the two of you had ever had. It left you both panting, backs on the bed, mind hazy. Choso looked over at you, watching your tits rise and fall with every breath you took; he had to look away before he fucked you again, not that he wouldn’t mind. You looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes, and he swore he would melt. He brought you up to him, kissing you softly as he pulled a blanket over the two of you. You laid your head on his chest, following with his arm wrapping around your back and waist.

“So, wanna go on another date?”

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

♱ the song used in this story is see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

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balletfilmss · 2 months

Note

hiii can i get a smau percy x daughter of persephone who loves flowers and lives on a farm

FLOWER POWER!

✸ pairing: percy jackson x daughter of persephone!reader smau

✸ notes: tysm for requesting & im sorry this took a hot minute, but i hope you like it!! 🤍

…now playing: love grows (where my rosemary goes) — edison lighthouse

persea_: i’ve officially made friends with the ferns 🫡(thank you yn for not letting them eat me)

tagged: @flowersforyn

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g_man: are you…are you AWARE of how ferns work?

╰┈➤ persea_: yeah i am. 2 words: chomp chomp

chqsingannabeth: who’s…who’s truck did you steal?

╰┈➤ persea_: what’re you a cop?

flowersforyn: guys don’t be fooled by the second pic, this was the aftermath of him DROPPING me

╰┈➤ persea_: one, didn’t have to expose me like that & two, I SAID I WAS SORRY

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: SORRY ISNT ENOUGH, MY ASS STILL HURTS

╰┈➤ persea_: i bet it does 😗😉

╰┈➤ g_man: reminder that this is a PUBLIC app

ghostking: pls don’t break her

╰┈➤ persea_: did…did u just say PLEASE?

╰┈➤ ghostking: i take it back. break her and i break your neck.

team.leo: why she violating a tree like that

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: leo just bc you didn’t get hugged as a kid doesn’t mean nobody else did 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: OH SHE ATE YOU TF UP WITH THAT ONE. GAGGED

tysonn: ask yn if ferns will be my friend too

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: they absolutely will tyson, we’ll have to bring you out to the farm next weekend <3

╰┈➤ tysonn: yay!

╰┈➤ persea_: me too, right?

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: …

╰┈➤ persea_: RIGHT??

notpipermclean: yn get this loser off our farm, the kids are asking questions

╰┈➤ persea_: PIPER STOP HITTING ON MY GF AND SPREADING FALSE INFORMATION

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: NO🤗 im gonna report you for hate speech

╰┈➤ persea_: mf YOU’RE hate speeching ME

╰┈➤ sp4rky: @ team.leo the girls are fighting 👀

╰┈➤ team.leo: 🍿🫢

…now playing: strawberries & cigarettes — troye sivan

flowersforyn: fav boy on the farm!! 🍓

tagged: persea_

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chqsingannabeth: your face being cut off of that first pic is CRIMINAL 😩 not percy’s tho, that was a gift from the gods

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: im srry babe, i looked goofy 😔

╰┈➤ chqsingannabeth: oh no ma’am, you could NEVER

╰┈➤ persea_: WE GONNA IFNORE THE COMMENT SBT ME HELLO?!

persea_: the best day with my absolute best girl 🩵

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: kicking my feet & giggling, ILY SEAWEED BRAIN 🤍

╰┈➤ persea_: ILY TOO FLOWER POWER

g_man: WHAT did you do to make those strawberries look so scrumdidliuptious?

╰┈➤ persea_: dyslexia just took me OUT with this one dude 😭

╰┈➤ g_man: nobody was talking to you brotha 🙏

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: grover bud i use my mommy’s magic, hope this helps 🫶

persea_: don’t let her lie to you, people. i thought my first fit was BOMB & then she made me put on that sweater cuz it was cold as hell outside

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: i want you to read that again…slowly

notpipermclean: save me yn the garden princess …save me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: have no fear bae, im here 🫂

╰┈➤ persea_: yn, babydoll, i beg of you, PLEASE stop hitting on people that aren’t me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: there’s enough of me to go around perce 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: YEAH PERCY SHARE

sp4rky: why is bro carryin a whole bakery on that swing

╰┈➤ persea_: jason…🤭

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: NAW IF I CANT DO IT YOU CANT DO IT, JASON GET TF OUTTA MY COMMENT SECTION OR ELSE

╰┈➤ sp4rky: I PLEAD THE FIFTH

flowersforyn uploaded a story!

@ g_man replied:

why is bro so silly 😭

idk but he’s the silliest

@ sp4rky replied:

tell him to leave the flying to me

i’m not telling him SHIT from you

RAHH

@ persea_ replied:

idk what ur on about, i look terrifying here

oh yeah, i’m shaking in my boots

great, now can you pls come help me get down?

idk…

YN PLEASE

yknow, i can’t kiss you from up here

i’m otw 🏃‍♀️ 💨

#୨୧ love letters #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo smau #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson thoughts #pjo x reader #smau #pjo x you #daughter of persephone

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bigfatbimbo · 1 month

Note

Hey pookie hope you're doing well!

I was curious about a Rosie x Reader who is a female butler? (Yes they exist they are not just maids)

Listen im a sucker for royal x guard ships im weeeeeak

a/n — I LOVE ROSIE!!! I don’t have a great grasp on her character though because i’ve actually only watched that episode once but… I try.

warnings — suggestive, mostly just fluff, f!reader implied but it’s never brought up or stated, NOT PROOFREAD!!

summary — f!butler x rosie

Rosie is absolutely a wonderful woman to work for.

Along with the pay being well, not to mention the surprisingly comfortable servants quarters, she has a refined level of respect for her staff.

Not to say the work isn’t hard, and the constant smell of fried up demons is not a picnic.

As her butler, your in charge of managing the cooking and cleaning staff, and sometimes doting on Rosie.

After all she has a lot to do around hell, being the leader of a bunch of cannibalistic maniacs (such as herself).

Seeing as butlers are in charge of greeting guests, preparing wardrobes, and assisting in the preparation of events, your around Rosie a lot more than the other staff.

Even if you weren’t, she’d still take care to know your name, just as she does everyone else.

But she definitely admires your work ethic, and her relationship with you isn’t as formal as it would be if you worked for any other overlord.

She jokes with you while you dote on her, or just follow her around.

You definitely know an ungodly amount of gossip about other overlords in hell, or any drama that goes on with the higher ups.

Needless to say, there’s a level of trust there.

You take care of her when she’s overwhelmed with work, even if it’s your job it’s still undeniable.

And she treats you kindly, almost acting as if your friend instead of your boss, but never truly crossing that boundary.

Now, a romance aspect is what you want, I’m sure.

So Rosie’s working late, making sure things are running smoothly in cannibal town, maybe putting together tomorrow’s sale.

And she’s clearly tired, it happens to everyone when they have a job like this, but her work isn’t done yet.

So you waltz in with your formal demeanor, and place a cup of tea on her desk.

“Oh thank you, sweetie, but i’m not in the mood—“

“It’s your favorite, earl grey with a spike of blood,” you interject, “And if I may, ma’am, you’re in need of short break.”

That’s when Rosie would start to feel a sense of affection towards you, when she realized your shift ended hours ago.

You stayed anyways specifically to help her on her busy night.

Workplace flirting would be unbearable.

She’d be calling you ‘my darling’ instead of just her usual ‘dear’ like she does with the rest of the staff.

Lingering touches while she walks past, linking her arm with yours or resting her hand on your shoulder, overall being super touchy.

Her requests from you would be more frequent, as much as Rosie likes to keep things classy, that doesn’t change the fact that her crush on you grows everyday.

Maybe she’d even ask for a massage, actually.

See, her type of flirting is very subtle, so you wouldn’t even notice it’s happening unless it’s directed towards you.

Which, often, it very relentlessly is.

A relationship between boss and employee is inappropriate, and Rosie absolutely would respect your space.

Unless you feed into it, she wouldn’t cross that boundary.

But from the point of view of the butler, is she flirting? Or is she just being nice? I mean clearly you’re her favorite and most important staff member… so is she just being appreciative?

But, when and if that line is crossed, things wouldn’t be different other than the secret workplace affair.

She’d treat you the same during work hours, but any time you two are alone, she’d be all over you.

Peppering you in kisses, eating you up, holding your face in her hands.

Calling you into her room for… butler duties.

Needless to say, the work never stops. But with Rosie it wouldn’t feel like work.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open #dom reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #hazbin hotel smut

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anundyingfidelity · 2 months

Text

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean x reader x sam #sam wesson #dean smith #supernatural fanfiction

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alexa-fika · 1 month

Note

Hello there may I request Whitebeard pirates find out about Ace has an older sister (not by blood) can you do their reaction when they saw Ace has a beautiful big sister with two different eye color one deep sapphire blue and a rich lavender color

She has a devil fruit that can make her manipulate silver

Reckless Charmers (Whitbeard pirates x f!reader)

A/N Here we gooo, A whole month after 😂, im slowly putting a dent in my requests yall. I had a hard time deciding where to take this, and in my first draft I thought I had it but I realize I djn’t have either silver nor heterochromia so , major fail 😂

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japaness

Dividers by @/Saradika

“Ace, how much longer till we get there?” She yells over the roaring of the striker, glancing behind her towards the man powering the boat

“We’re almost there; I see the Moby. It should be just a few minutes now.”

“You did tell them I was coming, right?” She questioned

“Well….”

“Ace..”

“Do they even know you have a sister?”

“Well, it didn’t really come up?”

“Ace!”

“Hahahahaha! Don’t worry so much they will love you.”

She sighs, turning her attention to the landscape in front of them

“You’re unbelievable, Ace.”

“Yeah, Yeah, we’re here.”

“Race you to the top?” She said with a grin

“Really? We’re not kids anymore Dokucha”

“Aw- Hey! You damn cheater!” She hollered after he jumped towards the galleon, quickly transforming her neck into a silver lance and using it to impulse herself after him

She scowls at him as they land on the deck of the galleon

“You litt-

“Ace, you’re back,” a voice cut in

“And you brought someone with you-yoi,” he states, glancing at the woman questioningly, throwing a disapproving glance to Ace

“W-Wait, it’s not what you think! This is my sister, Dokucha!”

He hums, glancing at the woman beside him

“Hi, I hope I am not intruding” she stated, giving the commander a small bow

“No, not at all, Ma’am. Make yourself at home,” he said, throwing her a smile

“Thank you, Sir; I appreciate your kindness.”

“Ah, no need for formalities, just call me Marco; hey Ace, you should bring her around more often-yoi,”

“Hmm? Why’s that?”

“You can learn a thing or two from her, maybe how to be a little bit more civil-yoi.”

“W-What’s that supposed to mean?!” He scowls

“Hey Ace, who’s the beauty you brought?” Thatch questioned, walking towards the trio

“This is my Sister, Dokucha”

“Well, Golly, ma’am, do excuse my honesty, but you look sweeter than a cherry pie,” he drawled, giving her a smile

“You have wonderful eyes, my; I could just lose myself in them, don’t see a pair like yours every day.”

She flushed at his words, giving him a small smile

“Charmer, aren’t you?”

“I can see where the good genes went to.” he quipped back

“We’re not related by blood; also, go to hell, thatch.”

“You want to go at it, firecracker?”

And just like that, Dokucha found herself sitting next to Marco as the two commanders went at it, the crew slowly gathering around them and cheering them on

“Is it always like this?” She asked, sipping on a drink provided by one of the members as she glanced at Marco

“Usually takes more jabbing to make them go at it, but it does end up like this at the end of the day,” he said, watching the two go at it

“He is right; you do have wonderful eyes; I‘ve never quite seen such a case of heterochromia-yoi.”

She throws him a grin

“Thank you”

“I saw you making a lance when you came into the boat, are you a devil fruit user-yoi?”

“I am; I didn’t quite make a lance more so than I changed it into a lance.”

“How so?”

“I’ve got myself the gin-gin no mi; essentially, I can control and become silver; I always carry around silver jewelry so I can change into a weapon when necessary.”

“Ah, a logia?”

“That’s right; Ace, Sabo, and I are all logias; Luffy is the odd one out with his zoan fruit; you have one as well, don’t you? A Zoan-type”

“That’s right; how could you tell-yoi?”

“You ha-

Her words are cut off as a blade headed her way, which she simply avoided by moving slightly; glancing at the blade, she noticed how the wood began burning under the blazing blade; she followed the trajectory to the two men who had stopped their brawl to look at the damage they had caused

“Shit, Thatch, that’s our cue to get out of here,” Ace curses pulling his friend away

“Hah? Why?”

“Listen, man, you don’t want to find out what happens next.”

She gives them a tight smile, rapidly transforming her jewelry into a staff

“Marco,” she called

He hummed in response, curious at the sudden shift in attitude

“You are the vice-captain, correct?”

“I am”

“Then I formally request permission to show these two a lesson.”

“Approved-yoi,” he said with a grin, leaning his head against the palm of his hand

“Marco, you damn traitor, Thatch run!”

“Where are you going, little brother?” She said, approaching the two

Yall I had to being out southern Thatch out, this was the perfect chance, I just had to have a flirty Thatch, we need it

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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suraemoon · 2 months

Note

I adored your headcanons!! Any way you would be willing to do Bucky Egan and reader relationship hcs?

John Egan Headcanons

~Relationship Edition~

🎶: Am I willing to do Bucky headcanons? Of course I am, dolly! I’m so so happy that you enjoyed the other ones I did. You adored them? I’m flattered. I adore you. I hope the ones I have cooked up are good enough. If not I’ll do more.

💋: Bucky Egan x Reader. Fluffy relationship headcanons.

Bucky loves physical touch

He follows you around whenever you ago, it’s like having a little puppy in your tracks or a second shadow keeping you company

You two are constant hand holders, you’re always hand in hand. He traces the lines of your palm, kisses each of your fingers, the back of your palm is an ideal kissing zone

He squeezes your cheeks and gives your lips a quick peck before you can even process that it happened. It’s a quick series of warmth. His warm eyes looking down at you, the warmth of his pink lips, and the warmth of your cheeks as you blush after the fact.

When you sit next to him, his hand stays on your thigh with the occasional squeeze

Sitting on his lap > Sitting in the chair next to him

He loves pulling you onto his lap. The closeness, the intimacy, the plush of your ass placed on just the right spot.

A room full of people and you’re comfy on Bucky’s lap, his arm wrapped around your waist protectively

He’s a cuddler

You two trade big spoon and little spoon.

How does a 6’2 unit of a man little spoon? Where there’s a will there’s a way.

You like to sleep in? Bucky gives your face soft and gentle kisses in the morning. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. He admires your side profile while you sleep, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the way your soft lips are parted.

Your boobs are his favorite pillow. So warm and comforting, he wants to stuff his face into them at all times.

More of an early bird? You can wake up early but you aren’t getting out of bed easily. Bucky’s arm is around your waist and it is not letting go. If you manage to get away from the grasp, it isn’t long until his eyes flutter open too. Your weight and warmth are gone.

Also...thigh riding

I mean, look at a picture of this man’s sturdy tree trunk thighs. They're the perfect size for straddling.

If you get excited about something, best believe Bucky is just as excited. Just seeing your smile and happiness is contagious for him.

You know those guys who suddenly act too cool for their girlfriends around friends? Hell no. He’s very proud of you, never ashamed. He’ll tell anyone about you.

Even a random stranger he’s getting directions from on the street. He’ll say loudly, “This is my girl right here! I’m taking her to…”

Chatting to old friends from Wisconsin about baseball and then out of nowhere, “You’ve met my girl yet?”

You were zoned out staring at his face

So, several pairs of eyes all of a sudden being focused in your direction pulls you out of your little trance after a quick “Huh?”

He’s brings you up whenever he can. “Oh, my wife is the same way.” “My wife told me about that yesterday.”

Ever since you two got married, he’s loved the fact that he can officially call you his wife to other people

That one time you went to try on dresses for yet another friend’s wedding and brought Bucky?

You come out of the dressing room and he immediately stops a sales consultant “Excuse me, ma’am. Sorry to interrupt ya but ain’t my wife gorgeous? Blue’s her color right? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her…Mhm. She says she’ll bring some more for you to try on, babe.”

It doesn’t even have to be a fancy outfit. You could come out of the bathroom after getting ready for a regular day out and you’re met with a long whistle.

“You’ve gotta do a spin, baby.”

You decide to take him on a trip to New York for the first time and this man talks a big game on how he’s gonna blend in so well. “I’m such a big Yankees fan, I might as well be an honorary New Yorker.”

When I tell you he is the most obvious tourist ever, believe me

We ain’t in Wisconsin anymore

The buildings look so much higher than they do in the pictures, he’s gotta look up and stare with wide eyes while people hurry by getting around him.

Bucky resembles one of the trees in Central Park, so he can easily cause traffic when stopped in the middle of the sidewalk

Taking him to his first Yankees game and he’s trying to explain every rule of baseball to you

Meanwhile you’re too busy focused on the big bucket of delicious popcorn he bought you before the first inning

You nod along though, pretending to know all of the different terms and player names that he’s rattling off at you

“They should put me on the field, I wouldn’t have missed that.”

If this man is going to do anything, it’s call you a pet name. Every one in the book.

But of course he has a special nickname for you that he comes up with not too soon after meeting you

Maybe it’s something you remind him of, a certain feature you have, a specific talent you possess

It’s very personalized

Bucky insists on trying to do your makeup one time because “It can’t be that hard” and you end up looking like a Ringling Brothers circus clown

The blush is bright red, the mascara is not limited to only the lashes, the lipstick is over lined to oblivion

He took a picture of you and now it’s taped to the mirror of your vanity along with a bunch of other random photos that have collected over the years

“Now when you do your makeup, you can be reminded of how horribly I did. Whenever you have to wipe something off or redo something think…wow, at least I don’t look like that. You always look beautiful, honey, even when I do your makeup.”

According to him, you don’t need makeup anyway

He loves taking pictures of you. Pin up photoshoots by the beach, candid snapshots of your relaxed resting face while you aren’t looking.

Sometimes the lighting is a little dark, maybe the photo came out a little blurry. But you’re in it, so it’s perfect.

And he’s clingy. He doesn’t like when you’re gone. If it’s been one hour, that’s three years in Bucky world.

Bucky is such a girl dad

You have your first little one and she’s so tiny swaddled in his arms, the sun shining softly through the hospital room windows

A little bit later, he’s shirtless and she’s laying on his chest

He’s whispering to her but it’s so soft, only him and his little girl can hear. The most beautiful little secrets that will stay between them forever.

You get a lot of attention post birth too

He’s thanking you, telling you how strong you are, how you’ve changed his life forever, you’re the love of his life, he loves you, he loves you, oh how he loves you

The second baby comes not too soon after the first and it’s another little girl

Baby number three is another girl

The fourth little darling has plenty of bright eyed big sisters waiting for her at home

There’s a drawer full of hand-me-downs but there is also an array of brand new stuff because every baby is her own person. They all get the same amount of preparation, dedication, love, and care..

Did he used to dream about having a son? Sure.

But girls make amazing little baseball players

And dads make amazing fairy princesses

Bucky becomes very accustomed to tea parties, glitter, sparkles, and having his nails sloppy painted

Eyeshadow used as blush, contour, and foundation all in one

He doesn’t tolerate anyone who makes a backhanded comment about his girls

One day, you got back from taking the kids to the grocery store

The moment you see Bucky, all of your Egan girls run to hug him

It’s not long before he has two little girls clinging to each of his legs, one with her arms around his neck, another holding his hand with no intent of letting go

You quietly recounted to him later in the day how the grocery store cashier remarked upon glancing at all the pink, “Your poor husband. You refuse to give him a boy, huh?”

Bucky was ready to drive to the grocery store and give that worker a piece of his mind

He has healthy, happy kids. What’s there to be poor about?

(Years later, when you two thought you were officially done having kids, the pregnancy test is positive. It’s a little boy. He’s the baby of the family and so much like his dad.)

Another lucky girl gets her own Egan to cherish!

Bucky is protective of his family, even before little Egan’s got added to the family, he’s always been protective of you

If someone ever bothers you, makes you uncomfortable or says something bad about you, he has to confront them

even if you insist to him over and over that it’s no big deal

He keeps you so close to him not only because he cannot imagine being too far away from someone as amazing as you,

I mean, you smell fantastic

also that dress fits you so well

and your smile makes him lightheaded

your voice is so soothing

Wait what were we talking about? Oh yeah…he’s protective. He keeps you so close because he cannot fathom something happening to you.

You can accidentally trip over your own feet and Bucky will find a way to blame himself

Something fell on the floor and you stumbled over it, Bucky should have seen it and picked it up before you had the chance to even get close enough to fall

Bucky’s a man who lives off of reassurance

He loves praise

But he’s not aware of how much he needs it, how much he thrives off it

A compliment will make this man’s day

Reassure him of how amazing he is

Tell him how good he is and how lucky of a girl you are to have him because you are so so lucky

He values your opinion, so your compliments mean so much more than anybody else’s

Every anniversary he writes you a love letter

Always so heartfelt, detailed, and meaningful

He talks about all the reasons why he fell in love with you and continues to fall in love with you every single day he breathes

All the little quirks and habits that you don’t pick up on, but he adores

Maybe something you did the same day he wrote the letter and it’s so fresh in his mind that he has to talk about it

Something special that happened that year

A baby that was born, a trip you went on, and special event, a funny moment, a specific date, something you said to him this year that he continues to think about all the time

Anything that comes to mind

They collect over the years and you put them in a pretty little keepsake box

When you eventually pass on, all of his letters are buried with you

What makes Bucky frustrating sometimes is the fact that he doesn’t like to talk about what he is feeling

He’ll claim he’s fine when something is clearly bothering him

He’ll walk away from an argument declaring that he “doesn’t care anymore” and “you can do whatever you want”

but the reality is he does care

He just hates to yell around his wife, let alone yell at her. It makes his skin crawl.

Bucky lets all the feelings build up inside but just his facial expression alone can tell you that he isn’t alright

And it leaves you feeling confused because why doesn’t he trust you and confide in you enough to communicate?

It’s late at night when you two resolve the conflict

His voice is soft and it takes you by surprise

In situations like these, you always wait for when he’s ready to talk

And when he does his voice is always so small and broken

All is forgiven, all is resolved, everything always ends up okay

No small disagreement or petty argument can break you two apart

Don’t tell Bucky that you are ever insecure about something because he will be utterly appalled

You’re a goddess to him, he worships every single inch of you

Whenever you take your clothes off, he’s taking in all of you with adoring eyes and a parted mouth

Every curve, every beauty mark, every stretch mark

It all comes together to make the perfect picture

He loves the way he fits so snug inside of you, the way you taste, the way your noises blend so perfectly with his to make the most beautiful of melodies

Every moment with you is heaven

How did he go so long without you? He thinks about that often.

His heart has never been so full of love, his mind has never been so full of hope

You two complete each other in every way

He was the first to say “I love you”

You were taken back at first because a man who’s so magnetic, charming, handsome, likable, the center of attention in any room he’s in

He’s in love with you

Little did you know he was just as taken back to hear you say “I love you too, Bucky”

He remembers the first time he saw you across a room and how his eyes immediately gravitated towards you

He remembers how nervous he was to talk to you, which was so unlike him it was scary

Maybe his hands were shaking just a little, tapping his foot to a nonexistent beat, a never fading smile on his face

And over the years the two of you exchange thousands of “I love you”s

You can talk for hours on end about nothing “important”

Chatting about the random topics that pop into your minds, asking to be discussed

Accompanied by matching glasses of wine

Those conversations are your favorite because it’s a little bubble with you and the one you love, nothing else matters

————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed reading and I hope it was alright lol

If there’s any specific requests or anything I didn’t touch on that has you wondering “how did she miss this?” please let me know, lovey

Ahhh I love Bucky so much

#masters of the air #mota #john egan x reader #john egan #bucky egan #bucky egan x reader #bucky x reader #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfiction #mota fanfic #mota headcanons #headcanons #not proofread

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johnsgunbelt · 5 months

Note

Hey love, it's me again! *hehehe*

How would TF141 react to finding out that their girlfriend comes from old money and is filthy rich and her parents are hell-bent on getting her married off to some other old money dude whom she does not like.

Money problems - 141

Pariring: 141 x Rich!Fem Reader

Warnings: Violence?,Marriage arrangements,Fluff

John Price:

Well First it was the money…How the HELL did he not know?

He always saw you in designer, you always had your nails done and hair done, people always gave you looks in public and whispered.

And you didn’t really go out to eat unless the place was practically empty.

So when he found out to say he was shocked was an understatement he was astonished. But you then had to introduce him to your hell hole family that you hated.

He dressed his nicest and acted the exact way you told him to but your family seemed so bored and unimpressed.

“Right so…This is only temporary because we know a man who has agreed to marry you-” Your mom spoke up and you rolled your eyes tucking your tongue under your lip and Price knew that look he just sat there and let them have it. “I’m not getting married to some stuck-up rich boy jesus christ! Every time I visit we have this conversation.” Your mom tried to reason with you, “Well we wouldn’t if you had just found a nice man-” You cut her off and practically screamed at her. “I DID HE’S RIGHT THERE!! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NOT SEE? SURE HE MAY NOT HAVE A MILLION DOLLARS LAYING AROUND-” “Listen ma’am I understand you want your daughter to marry someone with your kind of wealth but rest assured I can take perfect care of her-” You glared at John and he closed his mouth and let you talk. “See my point is I’m happy, how old is he?” “56.” “EXCUSE ME??” You spit your wine back into your glass and John held your hand under the table as he stood up with you.

“Odd, because I actually have a huge announcement.” And that's the story of how he proposed. In front of your pissed off parents and they were even more pissed when you said yes. But when your father got too old and had to pass down the family business to him? Man the look on his face was worth mass amounts of money.

What pissed him off the most is the business has never made so much money until John ran it. And you loved every bit of his sour expressions and dirty looks.

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

So it was pretty hard to keep any secret from Johnny, not that he was invasive or over-jealous. No not at all it’s just because he’s so easy to talk to and he’s caring.

So when you told him about your family and money he wasn’t too shocked I mean he noticed the designer stuff and the people whispering, he absolutely adored you though and didn’t wanna make a scene on it.

But when you practically dragged him to a suit store and then made him meet your parents he was shitting his pants.

You all went out to a fancy dinner and he shook your fathers hand and your mother as well but they didn’t seem impressed then you all sat down and looked over the menu.

“So, we found you a man. 56, he’s agreed to marry you.” John looked up from the menu, shocked as he gave you a side-eye of worry. “What? Absolutely not. I took time out of my day to introduce you to my boyfriend who by the way I LOVE. I shouldn’t have even bothered coming, I knew this would happen!”

John watched you yell at your parents and fight back and forth until he was snapped back into reality. “SO WHAT IF HE’S NOT RICH HE’LL TAKE OVER YOUR FUCKING BUISSNESS ONE DAY!!” And he cleared his throat and grabbed your hand under the table. “Well uhm…Nice meeting everyone here. I think I’ll take my leave with my lovely girlfriend.” And he waved them an awkward goodbye as he took you into the car, opening your car door for you and making sure you were settled as he got into the driver seat and put the car in drive.

“Let me guess..Taco bell and your favorite movie?” “Please. I can’t stand my family.” Tears streamed down your face but he rubbed your thigh and comforted you and made sure you were okay.

And to your word, he did end up running that company about 7 years later.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

Now he knew you were loaded, he just put two and two together and he didn’t care, even if you didn’t have any money he’d still love you the exact same.

So that being said, when you guys had a movie night and your mom called you and you put her on speaker he decided to listen in while he paused the movie.

“Hi mom, what's up?” “Hey sweetie! I have some amazing news!” You rolled your eyes and looked at Kyle but he seemed interested. “What? What is it?” “Well…We found you a husband! He’s 54 and he owns a very nice business-” Kyle’s jaw dropped and you were speechless. “Not that you’re interested in my life unless it benefits you but I have a husband.” “WHAT? And you didn’t tell us?” Kyle choked on air when you said this and you encouraged him to speak up.

“Hello ma’am…I’m Kyle.” He spoke shyly and nervously and it seems like your mother wasn’t impressed. “Well hello Kyle and what do you do for work?” “Oh nothing special..Military.” Your mother gasped and hung up and Kyle just looked at the phone and then you.

“Marry me?” “What?” “I said, marry me. Your mom thinks we're married so let's get married.” You just shook your head yes as he stood up and put his shoes on. “Where are you-” “A ring, What’s your ring size sweetheart?” “Uhm..I’ll just come with you.” You put on some slippers and followed him outside to the car and went to go get a beautiful ring.

You got married officially around a year later and yes he formally met your family and they got accommodated to him and when he took over the business for your dad the family just put up with him for money.

Your sister being the worst constantly asked but Kyle always declined due to the fact you didn’t like her so he listened to you and didn’t ask questions. He didn’t have a death wish. He loves you.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

He knew about the money, matter of fact he knew your family but did he wanna spoil the fun? Course not.

So when you told him about the money he told you straight up he knew about the money, but since you didn’t mention your family he didn’t either.

But when you mentioned meeting your family he came clean, told you how he was your fathers security before joining the military. You gasped but you didn’t remember him for some odd reason.

But that’s maybe because he lied, he knew your father because he may or may not have been a hitman back in the day..But we’ll get into that later, maybe.

So when you took him to meet your parents he presented himself nice and your father seemed off, but you decided to keep quiet. But then your mother started speaking about marriage

“Ah, Sucks she’s already married to me.” “WHAT? IS THIS TRUE?” You nodded and showed your ring to her and he showed his wedding band like a trophy.

Was it maybe set up because you knew your parents would go nuts? Yeah but did you guys actually get married a year later? Yeah!

You and Ghost did eventually take over the company but you do most of the work due to his deployments but whenever he’s home he does as much as he can and he does whatever you ask of him.

Did it now come to light about him being your fathers hitman? No. He never told you and neither did your father.

Ghost didn’t wanna see his sweet angel worry about old problems that were already taken care of.

He loved how innocent you were, he didn’t wanna ruin it.

I loved this so much, your requests always EATTTTT🙈!!

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drabblesandimagines · 7 months

Text

Dove (part two)

Part one here. Leon Kennedy x fem reader Slow, slow burn, mostly fluff tbh

Leon’s lying on the couch, an arm bent behind his head and staring at the living room ceiling when his watch beeps, signaling the 0500-perimeter check. There are security cameras outside that will send a notification to his phone, but technology isn’t infallible so he prefers a sweep with his own eyes every four hours or so when he’s on protection detail. He heaves himself upright, wincing a little when his back protests. Hell, maybe he’s getting a little old to be sleeping on sofas. He picks up his gun off the coffee table and checks the cartridge, more out of habit than anything else – hasn’t shot a bullet this mission.

He makes his way over to the garage door, casting his eyes over your bedroom door as he does so. You won’t be awake for a few more hours, not after those sleeping pills, so he’s not trying to be particularly quiet when he unlocks the door, steps through and locks it once more behind him. He walks around the side of the SUV towards the garage shutter itself next, unlocks the padlock and lifts it up to step out into the cool night air.

The safe house is located a few miles out from a village on old farm land, tucked away down a rural lane. No nosey neighbors to question why there are no people living there most of the year. He went round the perimeter anti-clockwise upon arrival, so he’ll go clockwise this time, flashlight in one hand and gun aimed in the other. He’d been at home for a change when Hunnigan had called him – first person she thought of when she’d seen Lickers on the partial CCTV footage that had been salvaged. For a building housing the DSO’s surveillance division, Leon hadn’t been particularly impressed by quality of the CCTV images. Grainy, staggered frames of the creatures tearing up the office and people apart, leaving only destruction in their wake. And you, breathing but dazed, buried under lockers at the bottom of the stairwell and, somehow, the only survivor.

He completes his round at 0525, nothing significant to note and heads back inside, unlocking and locking doors behind him.

At 0600, his phone vibrates in his pocket – a steady rhythm denoting it’s a phone call, not a message or notification and, really, there’s only one person who will be calling him so he doesn’t even bother to check the caller ID.

“Morning, Hunnigan. What did the night bring?”

“Nothing substantial. We’re still trying to establish the full timeline. Seems like the footage we salvaged yesterday might be all we are going to get CCTV-wise.”

“Did you send a team out to Dove’s?”

“Won’t have the manpower till this afternoon. Why – do you have suspicions?”

“No, not at all.” He replies. “I just… I think it’ll put her at ease to know we’re not treating her as a suspect.”

“Did you question her?” Hunnigan sounds skeptical and he hears her tap away on her keyboard. “I haven’t received your report if so.”

“No, not yet. It was late when we arrived – she was tired, in pain, terrified. I didn’t think questioning her then would go down particularly well or be helpful. Gave her painkillers and sleeping pills. I’ll broach it after breakfast, maybe.”

“Broach it?”

“See how she’s feeling, I mean. Last night after we got in the car, she was all one-word answers, a couple of sentences here and there.” Leon sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t wanna scare her off.”

“If she’s got nothing to hide, there’s nothing for her to be scared of. Do your job and don’t get sweet on her.”

“Why can’t a guy do both?” He laughs.

“Leon – I expect that report today.”

The smile drops and he nods, as if she could see him. “Yes, ma’am.”

It takes a few attempts to open your eyes, blearily staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling in the morning light that filters in around the curtain. Your mouth is horrendously dry – a side effect from the sleeping pills, perhaps. Your whole body aches with stiff, bruised limbs.

But you’re alive, you remind yourself, when so many others aren’t.

Leon had been right at least – the sleeping pills had knocked you out into a dreamless sleep, though you don’t feel particularly rested.

You sit up in the bed tenderly, immediately thinking of painkillers. There’s no thought of getting changed, making yourself presentable. The man helped you strip last night, hell, he might think you’re a murderer, what does it matter if you leave the bedroom in a long t-shirt that shows a perhaps indecent amount of leg?

You open the door cautiously, unsure if Leon might still be sleeping on the couch, but it’s empty. Not a pillow or blanket in sight. The bathroom door is open, so he’s not in there. Your eyes move next to the door to the garage – maybe he’s gone to the SUV, would he sleep in there?

You turn slowly on the spot, trying to work out if there’s another door you’d missed in the blur of last night, but there’s the three – bathroom, bedroom, garage…

Wait. Your stomach sinks in realization.

Where’s the front door?

Is it a safe house thing? But surely that limits exit options if you’re trapped in here.

Or maybe that’s what they want.

Maybe you’ll graduate to a safe house with a front door when they don’t suspect you of being involved. You’ll ask Leon, you think, when he comes back from wherever he is. He seems nice, or nice enough. Been nothing but a gentleman, genuinely caring about your wellbeing… But maybe that’s all an act. An uncomfortable sensation reminds you that you need to use the facilities after a night of medicated sleep, so you head into the bathroom and lock the door.

All doubts about his sincerity are thrown out of the reinforced window once you see what’s on the counter.

There are two toothbrushes – one in a mug he’s pilfered from the kitchen after you’d smashed the container last night, and one’s lying flat on the counter, toothpaste pre-squeezed upon its bristles.

Sweet.

You emerge from the bathroom, teeth cleaned and find Leon stepping through the garage door.

“Oh, morning.” He smiles, shuts the door firmly behind him. You can see he looks a little tired around the eyes.

“Morning.”

“I didn’t think you’d be up for a few more hours. How are you feeling?”

“A bit sore.” He can tell you’re lying about the ‘bit’ - trying to put on a brave face. “What time even is it? I don’t have my phone… or a watch.”

“Ah,” he looks down at his own as if he doesn’t already know from his 0900 check. “Nearly half nine. Did you sleep all right?”

You nod. “No dreams. Was the sofa okay?”

“Yeah, one of the better ones.” He turns to the door and you hear a click before he steps away, heading into the kitchen.

Locked in.

“Where were you?”

“Outside. Perimeter check – all good.”

“Oh.” You pause, feeling like you know the answer before you can even ask it. “Can I go outside?”

His face falls in apology. “Sorry. Not at the moment - protocol. Wouldn’t want to risk anything.”

“Yeah, makes sense, I guess.” You continue standing awkwardly, a combination of not knowing what to do with yourself and hesitant to move knowing it’s going to hurt. “Erm, sorry, where did you put those painkillers?”

His face remains apologetic, though you’re not sure why. “We should get you some food in your first. I really shouldn’t have given you all those pills last night on an empty stomach.”

“I couldn’t have eaten anyway.”

“Understandable.” He ducks down below the counter and opens a cupboard, standing upright and placing a box of oats on the counter. “I’m afraid breakfast choices are a little limited. Oatmeal okay?”

“You cook too?”

“I’d say describing me as a cook is a stretch. We’ve got some fruit as well, but I think oatmeal will be best for those pills.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please.” You remain standing in place. “Erm, can I… do anything?”

“Nah, I’ve got it all handled.” He calls over his shoulder as he grabs some mugs out of a cupboard – doesn’t have to open a few before he can locate what he’s looking for as you would have to in a vacation rental. “Go ahead and sit down. Might’ve noticed this place is sans dining table, so coffee table will have to do.”

You walk slowly over to the couch, your muscles aching with protest. The bruises are far darker on your legs today than yesterday and, boy, do you feel it. You sit down delicately on the sofa, before tucking your knees up underneath out of habit, reaching for a throw pillow and clutching onto it pathetically.

You don’t know where your thoughts drift off to as you stare at the TV opposite despite it being off – it’s like your brain just temporarily switched off, until a single word reboots it.

“Honey?”

“Huh?” Where had that come from? Was it…? “I thought we went with Dove.”

Leon laughs – can’t help himself. “No, no, sorry. I meant, would you like honey on your oatmeal? Codename’s still Dove, as far as I know. I don’t come up with them.”

“Oh,” you feel your face grow a little hot. “Y-yeah, please.”

A few moments later he approaches the coffee table, steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of oatmeal in the other, complete with spoon. He places it down in front of you with a flourish.

“Order’s up.”

There’s an attempt at what looks like a smiley face drawn in honey atop the oatmeal.

“Thank you.” You can’t help the amused tone that enters your voice.

“Yeah, sorry,” he rubs the back of his head. “I can’t do fancy drizzles like the restaurants so that’s the best I could come up with. I’ll just go grab your pills, but dig in.”

You lean forward and spoon a small scoop up and force it into your mouth. Your appetite is still missing in action but you know you need something. A metal clang draws your attention from behind and you turn your head, seeing Leon fiddling with what looks like a metal lockbox. He opens it and pulls out the canister of the painkillers and shakes two out in his hand, before closing the box and locking it. You turn back, take another scoop of oatmeal and swallow, hoping it gets rid of the bitter taste of distrust in your mouth.

He's in front of you again, hand outstretched, but you can’t help yourself.

“Why are the painkillers locked away?”

“Protocol.” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Really?”

“I’m afraid so.” There’s a pause. Leon knows what you’re thinking and he hates it – he knows what it’s like to be scared, not trust anyone around you and he desperately doesn’t want to be that to you. “It’s mainly the sleeping pills. I don’t think you’re going to slip some and try and knock me out, or try and overdose on painkillers, but I… I need to follow it, okay? It’s nothing personal, Dove, I promise.”

“Is it protocol not to have a front door too?”

“Ah, wondered when you might clock that. Yeah. There’s a false one outside – built into the façade so it doesn’t look weird. Only real way in and out is through the garage.”

“But if someone or…” You swallow, the creature flashing up in your mind “…or something got in here, we’d be trapped.”

“Nothing is getting in here and if it does, it’s not getting past me.” He says, sincerely, and when you meet his eyes, there’s that niggle in your chest. You want to trust him - you really, really want to - you want to feel completely at ease with the man who’s apparently ready to lay his life down for you and only you, but you still feel like you’re on the tightrope between victim and villain in this piece. “Open your hand?”

You do, watching him drop two little white pills into it.

“You can have them every four hours if you’re feeling sore. I’ll keep track of the doses, just ask.”

You knock them back with a swig of coffee.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Of course you can.” He pauses, trying to work out why you thought you had to ask. “Do you need a hand with…?”

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Erm… Do you know what I need to do about my temple?” You gesture to the medical strips on your forehead.

“Ah, yeah. So, need to try and avoid getting them wet for a few days. Don’t worry if you do though, I can re-do ‘em. First aid qualified.”

“Thanks. Erm, see you in a bit.” You head into the bedroom and to the duffel bag filled with clothes, picking out a selection that should work and run a brush through your hair. You take it back in the bathroom – Leon politely pretends to be engrossed in whatever’s now on the TV - and place them down on the counter, before locking the door.

After a less than relaxing shower – foregoing washing your hair – injured arm hanging loosely by your side, you’re not sure how long it takes to wrestle to put on underwear, sweatpants and a t-shirt, but it’s not like you have anything to do or anywhere to go. There’s no way you feel up to tackling the exercise bra that whoever has packed and asking Leon is simply beyond the question. It’s nice to be clean though. You’d tried to put the sling back on but had given up when your shoulder had started to smart after failed attempts and leave it half on/half off as you leave the bathroom.

Leon’s sat on the couch, phone in hand when you emerge. He turns, gives you a smile and nods at it.

“Need a hand with that?”

“Please. I tried, but…”

“Hey, it’s early days.” He stands up to meet you, pocketing his phone, as you walk over. “Sometimes they try and get you doing exercises from day one with dislocations too, but the medic advised you rest it for a week so I wouldn’t push yourself too hard.”

He takes adjusts the work you’d managed ever so slightly, and then puts everything in place. He steps closer to adjust it around your shoulder and you find yourself just staring into the expanse of his chest, when he sniffs.

“Mm. What is that - strawberry?”

“Huh?” You look up.

“Your bodywash.” He tightens the strap in place, checking everything is holding snug. “Someone on supplies must’ve been feeling fancy to be stocking us with that.”

“Did you not shower?” Your face burns red as soon as the question leaves your lips. “Not that you…” You like his scent, actually, woody. “I mean, just the bodywa-”

He shrugs it off. “I get you. Er, no. I… Well, I didn’t want to whilst you were sleeping, you know, in case…”

“Oh.” In case someone or something attacked. “Well, you could now – if you want. I’m awake now, so… Unless it goes against protocol?”

“No.” As long as he takes his guns and other weapons in with him, he thinks, and casts a longing look at the bathroom. “Promise you’ll yell if you need me, or you hear a weird noise or… anything, right?”

“I’ll yell.”

“Good. Okay. Might see if there’s another bodywash packed though – not sure I’m a strawberry guy.” He heads over to the garage door where the other duffel bag remains and picks it up, carrying it into the bathroom and locks the door.

He emerges 20 minutes later, same sort of t-shirt and cargo pants combo as yesterday and there’s a whiff of strawberry scent as he walks past you to sit down on the other couch.

You’ve been staring blankly at the TV screen for a little while – some sort of house renovation show, kept the volume down low. There isn’t really much else to do here and, really, you don’t want to sit and dwell on your own thoughts. Leon gave you the remote control, told you it was your choice and, sure, you’d clicked down past some of your favourite shows but you don’t want to associate any of them with this, with what happened…

So, weird house renovation it is, though you’re not taking any of it in.

Leon had excused himself a little while ago, said there was still some things in the back of the SUV he needed to grab. You don’t look round when he comes back in but you hear the lock click once more, before you hear him open a cupboard and the tap runs. He shows up in your peripheral vision a few moments later, placing two glasses of water down on the coffee table, laptop tucked under his arm and looking sheepish through his hair.

“Dove, I… I need to ask you some questions about yesterday.”

“Questions?” You tuck your legs up underneath you, wanting to huddle your knees like you do when you watch a horror movie.

“Yeah. Get your statement, mainly. It’ll help the investigation. I’m going to record the audio.”

“Do you want the TV off?”

He smiles at your question – still so sweet and considerate despite the fact he’s the one about to interrogate you, make you relive what is surely the worst even of your life, and you’re worried about his audio quality.

“No, it’s low enough – it won’t get picked up if you wanna leave it on for background noise.”

“Okay. Erm, I think I’d like that.” You pause, digging your nails into your palm. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, though. It’s all… kind of a blur.”

“That’s okay,” he opens up his laptop, taps a few keys and angles it to set up to record so he can go over and pick key points up later, if there are any. “Anything will be great. We’ll take it slow. You ready?”

You’re not, but you doubt you ever will be.

“Ready.”

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

PS: Comments literally make my day! Lemme know if you're excited for part 3 x Part three.

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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ellephlox · 5 months

Text

Solidarity

Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.

Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank

Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!

“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”

One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.”

You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words.

“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.

“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people?

“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense.

Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”

“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in? Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”

“Get what done?” you asked.

It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”

“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”

You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”

“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”

“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”

“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”

“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”

"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”

“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”

“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”

“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.”

Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”

"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”

“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.

“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”

“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”

“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave.

“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”

“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”

Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”

“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”

“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”

“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”

“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”

“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”

“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.

And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks.

And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy.

You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case.

How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom.

Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home.

You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows.

And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you.

No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot.

“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short.

....A dog?

“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”

“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”

“Give her a piece of food.”

“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”

“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”

“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”

The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...

And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?

The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”

Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.

Oh, hell no.

Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier.

Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing.

And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up.

For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows.

Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger.

“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”

Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”

“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”

Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground.

But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”

“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”

The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second.

Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed.

The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists.

But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight.

Where is Matt?

One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood.

“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”

Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second.

“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered.

And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.

“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered.

Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”

Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away.

The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...

The bullet never came.

Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall.

That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly.

Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —

“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”

Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”

“He deserves to die.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”

“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”

“But he didn’t.”

“Does that matter?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”

“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl.

Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive.

“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”

“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body.

“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”

“You could have died.”

“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”

And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse.

“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”

“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry.

“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well.

You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”

“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath.

“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.”

A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.

Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading!

-Elle

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #marvel #daredevil x reader #reader insert #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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preservationofnormalcy · 7 months

Text

[It is November of 2021. I am being led down a hallway that looks more like it should be on a ship than a government building. Metal walls with painted horizontal lines down its length, marked with “water depth” markers every 30 feet or so. My guide is a bored-looking man in a suit, balding, checking his clipboard. I seem to remember his name is Clarke, but he’s not who I’m here to see.]

M] Does this tunnel flood?

C] Hm?

M] The water markers.

C] Oh, those. Not unless something bad happens. She’s pretty good about it.

M] Is her name really –

C] Yth’Wa, Herald of Change. Yes. Changed it legally. Not that she gets out much.

M] …kind of an indoorsy person?

C] I mean she’s never in the outside world.

M] Not even to get food?

C] She has people for that.

[Suddenly, from doorways that lead off the hallway, we are joined by six figures wearing yellow robes that conceal their identities entirely. I smell brine and dead fish. Clarke looks back and seems to count the figures, but otherwise doesn’t react.]

M] Is this a joke?

C] Wish it was, ma’am. Hey, fellas.

[Two of the figures wave. We approach a bulkhead at the end of the hall, and Clarke spins the wheel lock. The taste of salt hits my mouth - like the seaside, like brine. Clarke enters the chamber beyond, and three of the figures follow him. Three of them wait behind me, as if waiting to escort me. After a moment’s hesitation, I enter the chamber.

It is dark, hewn from rough stone, sloping downward into dark water. I look up, and the ceiling cannot be seen in the darkness. Utility lights illuminate the path downward, a few of them trailing into the still water. Clarke takes up a post next to the door, and the yellow figures form a pattern facing the water. Two of them kneel, two of them prostrate themselves, and two raise their hands and begin a chant.

I can’t help myself. I back up, and whisper to Clarke.]

M] You cannot be serious.

C] You’re the one that wanted to meet her.

M] Who the hell am I meeting?

[Wordlessly, Clarke points to the water. A figure is emerging.

A humanoid figure, also clad in yellow robes. Her hood is pulled low over her face, only the bottom half of her face visible. She has both hands placed together, palms pressed together in a gesture of prayer. She walks calmly from the water, up the incline, and it becomes clear she must be…seven feet tall, or more. Pallid grey-green skin is visible under her hood, and her hair….not hair. Tentacles. Tendrils roll down her shoulders and chest, spill from her sleeves. Her face is thin, her cheeks are marked with slits - gills.

As she emerges, she joins the chant with her own voice. As water spills from her form, fully on dry land now, her words change to English. An unearthly, inhuman voice…but not unpleasant.]

Yth’Wa] Fathoms deep, fathoms old. Fathoms dark, fathoms cold. We leave the cradle, leave the fold. To serve the one, the Lord in Gold.

[There is a pause. Yth’Wa smiles and stands beyond the yellow figures, who are silent but have not moved from their spots. She is close to me, and seems to regard me with a small smile. Her face is…unnatural, but not ugly. Something beyond. When she speaks, it is with a strange resonance, and no small amount of amusement.]

Y] Ms Hendricks. I was told of your coming.

M] …wh…Yth’Wa?

Y] Do not be afraid.

[She moved her arms, spreading them out. Water dripped off her robes, and tentacles slipped back into her sleeves.]

Y] I am an ally of the Office. I do not harm the unbeliever, as they have their part to play in the grand Circle. The King Of All And Nothing has spoken, and we listen.

M] I don’t…I don’t know what to say.

Y] Then speak your truth.

M] ….I’m here to ask you questions.

[Yth’Wa’s smile widens. Her teeth are sharp, triangular, serrated. I look back at Clarke, who seems nonplussed. He looks at his phone and swears softly, seemingly realizing he doesn’t get reception here. Yth’Wa’s tone is not unfriendly, but somehow…as if she’s humoring me. Slight but not aggressive sarcasm rolls off her lips.]

Y] Inquisitiveness is what drew us all to the Circle, Ms Hendricks. It is a virtue worthy of the Yellow Empty. This is a holy quest.

M] I feel like I’m being condescended to.

Y] No force in the ocean could compel me to do so.

M] But on land?

[She puts her hands back together with a playful smile.]

Y] What are your questions, my dear?

M] …I was going to ask you about the poster, but first…who are you?

Y] I am Yth’Wa, Herald of Change, leader of the Yellow Circle.

M] And what is the…Yellow Circle?

[Yth’Wa gestures to the other figures in yellow behind her.]

Y] We are the children of the One Who Dwells Between. We reach out in humility and hope to the space beyond our candlelight, and we embrace what we find. Our god, the Golden Father, shepherds us into the dark void, and bestows upon us gifts that we take upon ourselves gladly.

M] And you’re….allied with the Office? They’re okay with this.

[Yth’Wa’s smile is slightly more amused, almost smug. Her tone is like kindly addressing a child.]

Y] It’s our world too, Meghan. We live here. We have a vested interest in keeping the things that slither around the lighthouse of the human mind at bay…or under our control. The Office often finds these skills useful. Such as your poster.

M] The….sock a Shoggoth one.

Y] Indeed. It’s an old one. You saw a ripple of waters past, Ms Hendricks.

M] Sorry?

Y] Do you know of Operation Deep Whisper?

M] I…I don’t, no.

Y] Mmmh.

[She steps forward. I’m unsure of what to do, and in my hesitation, she walks around me. Studying me, her eyes never visible but nonetheless biting into me.]

Y] You’ve met Josiah. Josiah Carter.

M] Of Psychotronics?

Y] Of those who wade in pools they will drown in. Tell me. Did he talk about the things they invited?

M] He mentioned things that…came from their experiments.

Y] Poor Josiah. He knew only half of what he unleashed.

M] I don’t think I understand.

[Yth’Wa took in a deep breath.]

Y] When men take hammers to glass, they should not be surprised when it leaks. Those at the Office, in their uniforms and titles. They frayed the real in order to see through it, and they didn’t like what they saw. What they let through. By the 1960s, the camera obscura they had made in their blind stabbing through reality had become a tear. A broken fence post, and of course things came through. Things…not under our control.

M] The things he described sounded horrific. What are they?

Y] Me and mine are…inured to them, somewhat. The Office now calls them Outsiders. Entities from other spaces, other realms, dimensions beyond ours. Beyond the veils. As you can imagine, they are often dangerous to humanity. Physically violent, or ontologically inimical to human life. Often...alien thought patterns, incompatible with the mortal mind. Ontologically incompatible - too many of them, and their reality leaks into ours...impossible geometry, mosses and fungi that degrade the integrity of realspace. Or reality, as humans see it.

M] And you can control them?

Y] More or less. Keep them at bay, influence their behavior. Sometimes they can appreciate something that thinks like them. But all that and more were slowly being unleashed through the world, a secret plague that threatened to collapse the Office’s so called normality. Beasts, anomalies, and forces threatened even our way of life.

M] So they asked the Yellow Circle for help.

Y] Indeed. I was not the leader at the time, but the Circle allied with the Office to eradicate this plague. Using resources and funding from the more mundane conflict in Vietnam, we battled the Outsider across the globe throughout the 1960s, and into the 70s. Our people call it Gul’tho Z’Thuth G-Uz, the Conflict of Brother Blood. But the Office calls it Operation Deep Whisper. It is there your posters come into play - propaganda, encouragement for a war against an enemy so alien that they cannot be understood.

[That smile again.]

Y] By the Office, anyway.

M] And it worked?

Y] You had not heard of Outsiders before you came to the Office, had you? We saved the world, Ms Hendricks. Our world.

M] I guess we can chalk that one up as a success.

Y] Indeed.

M] I don’t feel the need for most of my questions….Yth’Wa. But I guess I had another.

Y] Speak freely.

M] You were…human, right? All of you, but especially you. Who were you before you were Yth’Wa?

[There is a moment of silence. Yth’Wa looked…momentarily annoyed, her thin lips turning down at the ends in a way that made my stomach churn. But after a moment, she seemed to reset, relax her posture.]

Y] Who I was is dead. The One Whose Sign Dances saw me for who I was, and made me into something…more. More real, more truthful. Who I was is…dead. Do you understand?

M] I….I think I do.

Y] Magnificent. If you had no further questions….

[She steps forward, and I flinch. She pauses, as if attempting not to spook an animal, reaching into her robes and slowly pulling free a single scallop shell. It shined like an oil spill in the dim light, runes and markings along the outside of the shell. They hurt to look at.]

Y] If you wish to see me again, throw this shell into the largest body of water you can reach in a day’s walk under the light of the moon. I will see you, I will reach you. And we can talk.

M] …thank you, Yth’Wa.

Y] May the Shattered Lord keep you and guide you.

M] Let the…the Keeper of Yellow—- oh, god, what…what was that? I can taste it.

[Yth’Wa laughs, leaning in further, teeth gleaming in the odd light.]

Y] Truth. Oh, Ms Hendricks. You’ve tasted truth.

(Buy the poster here!)

#Yellow Circle #interview #microfiction #sci fi #sci fi horror #lovecraft #cosmic horror

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harlowsbby · 4 months

Text

Cater 2 U 💘

Requested, Giving Jack a little spa day at home I feel like he’d appreciate it so much and would honestly love it.

When Jack was finally able to make it back home after a long day at work he was beyond grateful. Today hasn’t exactly been the best of days.

He’s been in meetings nonstop that we’re back to back to seemed like, he had Neelam and Drama in his ears nagging and just frustrating him all day.

Urban obviously knew his friend was on the verge of a breakdown so he had texted you prior to Jack coming home and letting you know that he wasn’t feeling that well.

When he finally managed to unlock the front door he sighed in relief and quickly shut and locked the door.

He made his way into the living room and was a bit taken back massage bed that sat in the middle of the living room.

“Baby?” He called out for you. “Why do we have a massage table in the middle of the living room? Did you steal this?”

Next to it was a mini table with a few of your skincare products and a few little tools he’s seen you used whenever you did your skincare.

“No I didn’t steal it you silly.” You smiled as you made your way over to him. He smiled upon seeing you and placed a kiss on your lips.

“So if you didn’t steal it why is it here? I need to make sure to lock my credit card.” He tried mumbling that last part but you heard him loud and clear.

“That isn’t nice.” You elbowed his side making him hiss. “No what you just did wasn’t nice.” He said.

“Always.” You rolled your eyes. “This is for you Urban called me earlier and said you’ve been stressed out all day.” You told him.

“So I figured why not doing a little spa day at home for my man.” You grinned.

Jack chuckled and shook his head at you he was honestly amazed and impressed but he was also beyond grateful to have someone as amazing as you.

“Thank you baby I appreciate this I really do.” He said and you smiled. “Go ahead and change into something more comfortable while I set everything up.”

He went upstairs and changed into a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt and made his way downstairs. “You ready for me?” He asked.

You smiled and nodded your head. “Yes I am just lay back on the bed and I’ll do the rest.” Jack laid down flat and you grabbed his face softly.

You started off by putting on one of your many spa headbands you used whenever you did your skincare routine.

“What are you doing first?” Jack asked. “Ima start off by plucking a few of your eyebrows because I’m sorry but you’ve been looking like a caveman.” You stated and Jack gasped.

“Yeah ima definitely give you a one star review after this session.” You both laughed. You leaned forward and plucked a few of his eyebrow hairs.

Once you were done with that you grabbed Clay face mask and applied it evenly all over his face and let that sit for about fifteen to twenty minutes.

When the timer was done you grabbed a wet washcloth and wiped his face clean and went in with your face serum. When the serum was applied on his face you grabbed your Gua Sha.

“What the hell is that?” Jack eyed the took suspiciously. “It’s a Gua Sha.” He took the tool and inspected it.

“A who? What does it do? I don’t want no weird shit on my face babe.” You smacked your lips and pushed him back down on the bed.

“It helps tone your face like it helps with your jaw line and makes it sharp.” His mouth formed into the shape of an o.

“Are you trying to say I have a double chin coming in?” His hands immediately started rubbing his face trying to check and see if his chin was hanging.

You giggled. “I mean you have been eating out a lot with Urban.” He gasped.

“Oh that’s just rude.” You giggled again. “Just be quiet and let me work.”

He raised his hands in defense. “Yes ma’am.” When you finished using the Gua Sha you went ahead and rubbed in the serum into his face which gave him a natural glow.

“What are you gonna do now?” Jack asked. “I’m going to put this lip mask on your lips it makes them feel hydrated because I’m tired of kissing your chapped lips.” You joked.

“Damn I didn’t know my masseuse was allowed to talk to me this way, ima need to speak to a manger or something.” He joked.

“Mhm you’re speaking to her, now shh and let me put this on you.” Jack relaxed into your touch.

You took the thin sheet mask out of the package carefully not wanting to rip it once it was finally put you placed it on Jack’s lips.

“I’ll be right back I’m going to clean up and put everything away.” He put a thumbs up and closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

While you were putting everything away and cleaning up your little mess Jack ended up falling asleep.

He hasn’t felt this relaxed in ages he was beyond grateful he was able to call you his because honestly he wouldn’t know what to do without you.

“Ima take the mask off now and then you can go ahead and take a show-.” You stopped mid sentence upon hearing a snoring Jack coming from the massage bed.

“Ain’t no way.” You chuckled but nonetheless you took one of the blankets that laid on the arm rest of the couch and wrapped him in it.

“Sleep tight Jack.” You placed a kiss on his forehead and allowed him to get some much needed rest.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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rollingsins · 1 year

Text

all hers, part xxiv

summary: When you awaken, it's to Tara's lips against yours, and a dull painful thud just below your ribs.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: it's me again. hi.

Waking up is painful.

Everything hurts. From the wound in your stomach to the tips of your fingers, where shockwaves of pain bolt through you every five seconds. Your throat is dry, the lights in the hospital room are too light.

You groan, but Tara’s kissing you before you can say anything. Her lips are salty, tainted with her own tears. She kisses you desperately, hands pressed to your face, like if she doesn’t kiss you right then and there she might combust.

But she loses herself in the moment. Presses her body down too hard against your wound.

You cry out against her lips.

Then, she’s withdrawing, eyes wide with worry.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” She murmurs, hands fervent as she reaches down to lightly touch the tip of your bandage, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You close your eyes, mind swimming. You can’t think like this.

“Water,” You croak, as watch as she scrambles up onto her feet, almost spilling the carafe of water all over herself in an effort to get to you.

“Here, baby, drink,” She says, pressing the glass to your lips.

You gulp it back.

Water has never tasted so good. Like a cool, ice bath on a hot summer’s day or a well of water in the middle of the desert. You glug it back, almost choking in an effort to get it down your throat and into your body as quickly as possible.

Tara rubs your back, soothingly. She presses a kiss to your forehead and holds the empty glass out, eyes questioning.

“More?”

You nod, fervent.

You finish off the last of the water. It burns, pleasantly, for a moment, temporarily relieving the quiet ache in the back of your throat.

But then, your mind wanders to the pain.

A sharp, tense, pin-like feeling just under your ribs.

You close your eyes, moaning slightly. It hurts so badly, you think you might pass out. Sweat breaks out across your forehead. Tara notices, immediately. She sets down the glass and rushes back to your side, pressing her hand over your forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Tara asks, brown eyes wide and mournful, “What is it, baby-girl? Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” You gasp, “Tara - I need something. Medicine. Drugs. Any drugs, please.”

Tara draws in a sharp breath.

“I’m calling the nurse,” She says. You open your eyes, slightly, watch as she hammers her hand down onto the green button beside your beds.

Her worried eyes draw back to you.

She leans down, smoothing the hair out of your face and presses a long kiss to your forehead.

“It’s okay, baby.” She murmurs, “You’re going to be okay.”

You hum.

The pain burns hot in you.

And before you can open your eyes again, you promptly pass out.

When you awaken, it’s to the sound of Tara’s voice in the hallway.

It’s shrill. Loud.

Sam’s talking too. You can hear her quiet requests for Tara to calm down amongst the spew of Tara’s angry ranting. There’s a male voice, apologizing.

“- if you idiots can’t even do your job and give somebody who’s just been into surgery pain medication, how the hell are you to be trusted with caring for her while she’s recovering?” Tara asks, voice hot.

You swallow.

The pain is gone, numbed by the array of drugs that had been pumped through your system. You feel light, like you’re floating. You open your mouth, try to call out to Tara. But it comes out in a quiet gurgle.

She doesn’t hear.

“Ma’am, I assure you, a mandatory dose of morphine was given to the patient before she woke,” Says the male voice, “She’s just had surgery for a stab wound. Unfortunately, pain is a part of the process.”

“Pain is about to be a part of your process.” Growls Tara.

“Tara.” You call out. It’s weak.

“Enough.” You hear Sam’s voice, stern, “I am so sorry, doctor. It’s been a long day, she’s been really scared. Tara, go sit down. Your girlfriend needs you by her side when she wakes.”

“But, Sam-”

“Now, Tara. Before you get yourself thrown out.”

You don’t have a view of Tara, but you don’t need to see her to know what the look on her face is. You can hear her angry huffing as she walks back into the hospital bed, a scowl on her face that would make Freddy Kruger himself cower.

And then it dissipates the moment she sees you with your eyes open.

“Baby.”

She’s at your side in an instant.

Wide-eyed, she immediately tilts her fingertips to your cheek.

“Baby,” She says, once again. She presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing her eyes, just for a moment. Then she’s withdrawing, her hands cupping your cheeks, “Are you alright? Does it still hurt, baby? Did they give you enough? I’ll get that moron doctor back in.”

She turns.

“Sam!” She calls out, “Sam, get Doctor Dipshit back in here!”

“Tara,” You murmur. You press your fingers to her lips, blinking slowly. You feel high. Intoxicated, but not hurt. You feel as if you could climb out of bed and carry her home, “I’m okay.”

She sighs with relief.

Her hand falls around your shoulders as she leans in. She presses a long kiss to your lips. And you don’t know if it’s the morphine or just her but it makes stars explode behind your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks, racing in. Her shoulders slump with relief when she sees you: eyes open, clutching onto Tara for dear life.

“YN,” She says, voice soft. She moves a little closer to the end of your bed, touches your calf, fondly, “You’re awake.”

“Do you want more water, babe?” Tara asks, drawing your attention back to her. She’s focused, eyes still awash with worry, “Is the bed okay like this? It’s not hurting your belly, is it? Sitting up? I tried to put it back down but the damn thing is broken, like everything else in this stupid hospital-”

“I’m okay, Tara,” You say again. You curl your hand around the back of her neck, playing with the baby hairs at her nape. You stare at her nose, press your finger against your favorite freckle. Greeting it like an old friend. Then you rub your hand along her eyebrows, trying to smooth out the worried crease.

“You’re really pretty.” You sigh.

It’s enough to break the tension. Tara’s lips twitch, upwards. You hear Sam laugh. She squeezes your foot gently.

“You’re really high right now, huh?” She teases, “We’re glad you’re okay, kid. You had us worried there for a moment.”

It takes you a moment. You feel like you’re swimming in the clouds. Your body tingles. Tara’s touch makes you shiver.

And then you remember your last moments of consciousness.

The mushroom cloud pops. Like a bucket of ice water to the face.

Tara touches your face once more. She has you memorized. Every movement. Every facial twitch or expression. She knows you by heart.

Her eyebrows crease once more.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She asks, voice quiet.

You frown.

“What happened?” You ask.

The beep of the heart monitor sings steady. Tara squeezes your fingers.

“She’s dead.” Tara says, voice forceful, “She’s not going to hurt you again.”

But it doesn’t calm you.

“Where’s my Mom?” You ask. The heart monitor picks it up, a dull thud as your heart begins to race and panic overtakes you, “Where’s my Dad? Are they dead?”

Tara’s shushing you, trying to draw you back down but you fight her off. You’ll run barefoot out of this hospital and search the breadths of every emergency room in the state if you have to.

Sam’s at your other side. She touches your arm, trying to soothe you.

“They’re okay, YN,” She says. Her voice is calm. Assuring.

You stare at her, trying to catch the micro-expressions that flood through her features. You don’t know Sam’s giveaways, not like Tara’s. You don’t know if she’s telling the truth.

“Are you lying to me?” You ask, voice small, “Are you lying to me because I was stabbed and now I’m high and you think I can’t handle the truth?”

“She’s not lying, baby,” Tara says. She’s coaxing you back to her, “Look at me. They’re okay. They’re stable. Your Dad was shot, but they got him to hospital in time. He’s awake, Sam spoke to him just before you woke up.”

“And my Mom?” You ask, lip wobbling.

Tara hesitates.

“She’s in surgery,” Tara says, “But they’re confident. They’re sure they can save her. It’s just… she might…”

She trails off, eyes hesitant. She looks to her sister for reassurance.

“She might what?” You ask. The panic rises once more, “She might what, Tara?”

“She might…” Tara catches Sam’s eye, “Lose her leg. That’s all.”

You blink.

“That’s all?”

“But she’s okay,” Tara says, hurriedly, “She’s fine. Apart from the leg, she’s fine.”

“That’s a pretty big part of her that’s not fine, Tara.” You snap.

“The important thing is she’s going to be okay,” Says Sam. She rubs your back, “Right, Tara? Why don’t we call now? Your Dad wants to talk to you. He’s been so worried.”

She reaches into her pocket and pries out her phone. Hurriedly, searches her contacts for your Dad’s number and presses the phone to her ear.

Your head is a little fuzzy with all this new information. You breathe in deep, trying to calm yourself. The heart monitor is beeping at an incredibly quickly, not-healthy-sounding rate. The thought of your Mom without one of her legs almost sends your hazy mind into a full blown panic attack.

“Baby,” Tara murmurs. She ghosts the back of her finger along your cheek, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Your Mom is going to be okay-”

“But her leg-” You can’t help but cry. Tears leak like acid from your eyes. The last twenty-four hours. The stabbing. Your Dad, your Mom, her leg. It’s too much.

“Shh, don’t cry, please baby.” Tara scoots closer. It must be uncomfortable, the way she presses the side of her hip against the hospital bed railing just to hold you, but she does it anyway.

You sniff into her shoulder.

She smells a little metallic, like dried blood. But there’s something under it. Her natural scent, a little musky, a little sweet. Comfort blooms around you like a warm blanket.

“I love you,” She murmurs against the side of your head, then kisses it for good measure, “I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you again, baby-girl.”

You close your eyes. You can feel her pulse almost jumping out of her skin. You nudge your nose against her neck.

And then Sam’s talking.

“Hello? Yes, it’s Sam Carpenter. I have someone here I think you’ll want to talk to.”

You’ve never heard your Dad cry before.

He’s a staunch guy. A man’s man. With his whiskey and his steak and his hobbies that included hitting balls with sticks or blowing targets clean off with shotgun rounds.

But he cries now, over the line with you.

Tara rubs circles into your back. Sam watches, clutching her spare hand in yours.

He tells you he wants you there, with him. Back in Woodsboro. That he’ll arrange everything.

And when he ends the call, he tells you he loves you.

“Dad’s moving me,” You say, handing the phone back to Sam, “Tomorrow, maybe. When Mom’s out of surgery and I’m stable enough to be transported.”

“Good,” Tara murmurs. She nuzzles a kiss against your cheek, “This hospital is full of idiots.”

“Now, I hope you’re not talking about me.” It’s a nurse, one you haven’t seen before. But Tara recognizes her immediately. She stands, carefully prying herself out of your grip to meet the Nurse.

“Of course I’m not talking about you.” Tara says, a little breathless, “I called for you, earlier. The doctor said you were on break.”

The nurse looks over Tara’s shoulder and smiles at you.

She’s pretty, is your first thought. Long, dark hair. Round cheeks. Dimples. The slight wrinkles around her eyes indicate she’s a little older. Maybe in her forties.

“Good,” She tells Tara, voice curt, but she’s smiling. She approaches your bed, touches your hand, “How are you feeling, sweetheart? The doctor said he had to give you a little more morphine.”

“She’s feeling alright,” Tara answers for you. She presses her hand to your face, touches your cheek, fondly, “She’s feeling better since the morphine.”

Nurse Rosario looks bemused.

“I was asking her, Tara,” She says, a little pointed, “How are you feeling, darling? You need anything else?”

You like this Nurse. She’s sweet, but in a no kind of nonsense way. Tara likes her too, you can tell by the way she’s preening. Bouncing on the balls of her heels, tucking her hair back behind her ears.

Like a peacock showing its feathers.

“I’m alright,” You say. You eye Tara, a little wary.

The nurse nods, smile light.

“Good. You let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be back in a couple of hours to change your dressing.”

“Okay,” You say, “Thanks.”

She shoots Tara one more amused glance, before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

“Bye, Nurse Rosario!” Tara says hurriedly, with a small wave.

Sam looks perplexed but Tara doesn’t seem to notice.

She settles back into the spot beside you, brushing your hair back out of your face.

“Who was that?” You ask. Tara presses a soft kiss to your neck.

“Nurse Rosario.” She murmurs. She clutches your fingers between her hand, “She’s the best. She was the one that was here, when they first moved you. She was in surgery with you too. She helped save your life.”

Tara presses a kiss to your lips.

You raise an eyebrow.

“She’s pretty.” You say, a little point blank.

Usually, a comment like that would earn you a scowl. A pout. The silent treatment for the entire night. But this time, Tara doesn’t seem to mind.

She blinks.

“Huh,” She says, voice high, “I didn’t notice.”

Sam snorts. A smile blooms across your face.

“You have a crush on her.” You say, voice light. Teasing.

This has never happened before. In all the years of your relationship, Tara’s head hasn’t been turned once. Not for a pretty girl in the street, nor a mindless celebrity crush.

Tara’s cheeks turn red. She looks up at you, outraged.

“I do not.” She insists, the tips of her ears pink, “Okay, I like her but not like that. She saved your life, babe. That’s all.”

You curl your lips, rubbing her reddened cheeks with your fingers.

“It’s cute.” You tell her, and you mean it.

Perhaps, if Nurse Rosario had been your age and seemed even vaguely interested in Tara you’d be jealous. But your keen eye had spotted the wedding band around her left finger.

And more than that, Tara loves you. A love that you can feel radiating off her. A love stronger than some silly, hospital crush.

In your drug-infused stupor, with all the heaviness after the last twelve hours, it feels good to make your girlfriend blush. Something that doesn’t happen very often. Embarrassment doesn't come naturally to Tara.

And if you’re not laughing right now, you think you might cry.

So you allow yourself the distraction.

“You want me to get her number for you?” Sam joins in, voice teasing, “I’ll tell her you want to meet her in the supply closet in five.”

Tara shoots her sister a glare.

“You’re both ridiculous and I don’t have a crush on her.” Tara says, sounding exasperated, “What, just because I’m nice to someone, it means I like them?”

“Yes.” You and Sam say together, almost immediately.

Tara huffs. She withdraws from you with a pout and crosses her arms.

“Fine. I won’t be nice to anyone ever again. Hope you’re both happy.”

You smile, tugging at her hand and pulling her a little closer. She doesn’t resist. She meets your kiss, and presses her hands tight against your cheeks.

And you can’t resist.

You sigh, a little dramatic and withdraw from her.

“I should have known you were into older women,” You say, eyes twinkling, “You are two months younger than me, after all.”

Sam giggles.

Tara launches herself out of the bed and glares back at you as if you’re a traitor.

“I’m having a shower,” She declares with a huff, “And when I come back you two can quit it with this weird alliance you’ve formed against me. I don’t like it. And I don’t like her.”

She scowls at the two of you once more.

You look over to Sam, eyes sparkling as Tara disappears into the bathroom. She grins at you and raises her eyebrows. Then calls out:

“You sure you don’t want Nurse Rosario to give you a sponge bath?”

And promptly ducks as Tara launches a towel that narrowly misses her head.

#all hers #scream #scream vi #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #fanfic #mine

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