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the-kr8tor · 9 months

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Amidst the Waves

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller though), the reader has nicknames. CW food mentions, TW blood, CW injury, TW violence, TW gore, CW death, CW guns.

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Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Chapter 3 >>> Chapter 4

You've heard all the stories that all pirates are criminals who would cut your throat without remorse for a single coin in your pocket. You've heard it enough from traveling bards and newsboys screaming out the pirates’ crimes every morning that it's ingrained in your psyche. The news about the navy hunting them all one by one hasn't passed you either. You remember walking through towns with pirates hanging from the noose, a warning to all pirates.

It's all everyone talks about, especially in small towns. it's impossible not to hear of the bloodsail pirates and their latest crimes. But now you're standing in their ship, wearing their clothes and eating their soup. A surprisingly good soup too.

If only your past self could see you now, she'd probably throw you overboard herself.

Ned, you've come to know, throws you a mop and a bucket full of hazy water that sloshes on the sides, almost spilling over your new-ish clothes. You're too tired for this.

“Careful now, that has lye” His friend, James, you’ve learned snickers on the side.

“Go swab the poop deck, land lover” Ned points above you, rows of stairs greeting you. “As for you,” he addresses the blond, “the deck”

“What?! Why does she only get the poop deck and I get the entire bloody main deck?!” He jumps off the railing, fuming.

“Complain more and you clean the bathrooms”

“No! Not the bathroom again.” James picks up a spare mop. “Look, I'm cleaning, yeah?” he mops like a madman all over the main deck.

You chuckle, Ned hears and he gives you a staring down, you clamp down immediately.

“Poop deck! I'm on it!”

Clambering up the stairs is easier said than done. With your new found sea legs and the waves bashing on the sides of the ship, you're fighting for your life.

“Need help?” Hobie suddenly appears on the top of the stairs, annoyingly munching on an apple.

You heave the bucket, staring at him while doing your best at taking the cleaning supplies up the creaking stairs. “I'm good” step.

“You sure? I'm offering you an olive branch here, scuttlebutt” he leans on the railing, not moving an inch to actually help you.

Step.

“You can keep your branch,” you wobble slightly when a large wave crashes on the side of the ship. But thankfully, you keep your balance. Step. Finally reaching the top, you exhale out proudly.

“I'm not fond of olives anyway” you side eye him before continuing to walk on the poop deck.

Another wave hits, the water sloshes out, barely missing your hands. “Shit”

“Careful, that has lye in it” he says with a chuckle.

—

You missed lunch because you scrubbed the entire poop deck clean. Your stomach grumbles as the sun sets and you remember your last day in that small fishing town. The orange glow never fails to make you smile but now it squeezes your heart. It's still a beautiful sight, the large body of water glitters from the light, almost like it's calling out to you.

Great, you're already going insane after a few hours. Pinching your arm, you shake your head. You can't wait to get on land.

Walking down, you walk on the deck with an empty bucket. The sea is much calmer now, the movement is pleasant, if you're in bed right now, you would've fallen asleep from the motion. The breeze picks up as you set the supplies down. You lean on the railing to rest your lower back while you admire the sunset.

James huffs a few feet away from you, still mopping the deck while Ned and a raven haired woman chats near him. They make comments on the side that makes James glare at them. You let them be, watching the sunset with your hand on your chin.

Your back and knees ache from the labour and your stomach roars again for something to eat. Maybe they still have the soup earlier.

There's a sudden presence next to you. Leather and sea salt enters your senses.

He rests a couple of feet away from you, just in case you try to push him off.

“What a view, huh?” Hobie, he looks at you through tired eyes.

“Verdict’s still out” You don't try to argue lest you ruin the rare peace and quiet on a busy ship.

“‘course it is.” He chuckles. There's a comfortable silence between you.

After a beat he speaks up without looking at you. “Go help in the galley.” Before you could retort something witty, he walks away from you. You swear you saw something in his eyes, you have no idea what.

Heading down to the ship's kitchen, you see Gwen just about leaving.

“Oh good you're here. Go help out with dinner” she instructs without stopping for you.

Entering the swinging doors, you can't protest or else, well you try not to think about it too much. The galley is cozy, not what you expected of a pirate ship's kitchen to say the least. It's clean, all stone and steel melded together to create the quaint space.

You jump when Finn's hulking form enters your vision, his butcher's knife chopping down on a slab of meat, the sound reminds you of a guillotine.

He notices you freezed in the doorway, Finn huffs motioning for you to take an apron from the hanger with his incredibly large knife. You think you prefer the cutlass instead of the butcher's knife in his hands.

Tying it around your waist, you keep your distance away from the man.

“What do you need me to do?” You ask carefully so as to not anger the bull.

Finn moves to the side to reveal the boiling pot, the aroma makes your stomach gurgle. He points to a bundle of carrots on the counter before giving you a smaller knife. He nods once, going back to his chopping.

“Alright…” you find his lack of words peculiar, especially hearing the rest of the crew babble endlessly during the short time you've been on the ship.

You spare him side glances with every thwack of his knife to the chopping board. Working in comfortable silence, the sound from the bubbling pot calms your nerves, reminding you of the familiar sound in the white salmons’ kitchen.

The boat sways in the waves, making the hanging pots and pans swing to the motion. Finn taps his knife on the board twice, getting your attention. He gestures with his head towards the sliced carrots before glancing at the pot.

You understood completely, doing what he asked, he nodded once. A thank you maybe? Or he's just being nicer to you because of the whole ‘making you walk the plank thing’

Finn cleans himself up over the sink as you take a ladle to mix the stew, careful of the fire that licks the bottom of the metal pot.

A hand pops up at your line of sight, a bandage and a jar of wound cleaner placed in his large palm. He pushes the supplies to you, encouraging you to take it.

“Uh, what's this for?” you manage to take the things without it accidentally falling inside the crew's dinner. With how the ship rocks, you're proud of yourself for just being able to stand up.

Finn points to his chest, flicking his eyes to the supplies in your hands.

Looking down, you see a spot of red on the white cotton of your borrowed shirt. “Oh, thank you”

He huffs again, going back to cooking, letting you be.

Maybe they're not so bad?

—

Dinner is finally done. You can hardly keep your eyes open as you heave the huge pot over to the longest table you've ever seen. It's a makeshift table, a hodgepodge of crates and planks of wood put together to create the dinner table. Everyone starts to gather around the deck, the sun fully set, darkness rules the seas now as the candle light and oil lamps sway with the movement of the breeze.

Dining under the stars, how romantic.

They're a rambunctious bunch, pushing and pulling at each other to get the good plates first. You're already prepared for this of course, you've hidden a bowl in your apron so you could quickly scoop out dinner and vanish into a barren corner of the boat.

The same dark haired woman has other plans though, just before you could make your escape, she grabs you by the shoulders; orange and a flowery scent wafts in your nostrils.

“Where do you think you're going? Mm?” She whispers into your ear, her voice smooth, raising goosebumps on your arms. Freezing in her touch.

“Stop harassing the poor girl, Yuri” Gwen says while she takes her seat near the head of the table.

“Just having some fun, Gwen” she releases her hold on you, walking away with a wink thrown your way.

“Don't mind Yuri, she likes doing that to new people, her way of hazing I guess. I'm Miles by the way” He shakes your hand, smiling politely at you.

“She's not new to the crew, Miles. She's only here temporarily, remember?” Gwen pipes up, scooping her meal.

“Right, gotcha” he sits down next to Gwen with a huff. “Still, welcome a board the People's Revenge”

“I've gotten acquainted with your ship, just the poop deck and galley actually”

“Let me give you a tour then!” Pavitr suddenly appears next to you.

What is up with this crew instantaneously appearing out of nowhere?

“Hi, remember me?”

“Of course I do, thanks for the coat again”

“No problem, come on, let me introduce you to everyone!” Pavitr takes you by the sleeve, dragging you along the deck to introduce to literally everyone. “Oh you're gonna love them! Well, once you get to know them”

“Oh okay–just”

“This is ‘two fingers’” He points at a man halfway through putting a spoon in his mouth.

“I have a name, Pav! And I have all my bloody fingers!”

“Why are you called–” before you could ask, Pav led you away, smiling excitedly.

“This one here is ‘foul’!”

The crew around him laughs, “You forget to shower once and you get fuckin' called stinky!” Foul grabs a spoon to throw it at a laughing eye patch clad man. It conks him right on his forehead.

Pavitr moves on, actually introducing you to more people whose names get more ridiculous as you go around the table.

“And finally, this one is ‘ugly mug’” Pav shakes ugly mug’s shoulders for emphasis.

“Hey” the man with the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen and plump lips greets you.

“Ugly mug? He's not ugly at all!” You wildly gesture to his sharp face.

“You're too kind but I've learned to live with the ugliness” you don't know if he's joking or not with how serious he looks.

“Oh I almost forgot, this is Danny” Pav skims the most normal looking crew member. He whispers to you. “He's a bit weird”

Danny waves wildly, beaming at you. “Hi, I'm Danny!”

“Alright… thank you, Pavitr for the introduction” your stomach starts to cry again. “But I've gotta eat.”

“Oh, sit with us then!” He guides you to an empty chair next to Gwen. “Here, sit down. I'll get a bowl for you”

Awkwardly sitting down, you side eye Gwen. Miles looks like he's about to jump away from the tension.

“If you're worried about everyone planning to hurt you, don't. We have a code here and until you leave, you're kind of…one of us” she pierces the awkward silence between you.

You exhale a breath you haven't noticed you were holding. But you're still on guard, they are pirates after all.

“Here you go, I got you extra bread too” Pavitr saves you from the tension, bringing you a heaping bowl of hot stew with two loaves of bread. He sits down next to you, happily eating.

“God, I'm so hungry.” You grab the spoon with fervor, scooping up a chunk to quickly eat before it goes cold. It warms your insides, calming your hungry stomach. “Thank you– holy shit” it's the best tasting stew you've ever tasted.

“Good, right?” Gwen watches on with an amused smile. “Finn makes them from scratch, even the bread”

“I didn't even know that was possible on a ship.” You say with your mouth full. “Finn doesn't talk much huh?”

“Oh he talks. He just doesn't want to” Gwen shrugs, “that's his thing, don't ask him why”

“Wasn't planning to” you chuckle through your glass.

“Gwen,” Miles looks at you like he knows something you don't. “Am I crazy or she kind of reminds me of M–”

“Don’t” Gwen and Pavitr simultaneously say.

“You remind me who?” You flick your eyes between the trio.

“Don't–”

“MJ, you remind me of MJ.” Miles looks at you with sad eyes.

The entire table silences the moment Miles utters the name. Everyone looks at you and at eachother like how they did when you arrived just this morning. But this time there's sadness in their eyes instead of amusement.

“Who's MJ?” you ask nervously.

“Our former first mate” Foul flicks his eyes around, looking for something or someone. “Emphasis on the former”

“Oh” you could read the room but your bout of curiosity gets you first. “Who's the new first mate?”

“I am” Gwen says it without any pride laced in her words.

“Oh I figured that out. Where is she now?”

“Not here” A familiar voice replies behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, Hobie’s jaw is set, his hand on one of his pistols, the gold on the handle is a stark contrast to the rest of his silver ensemble.

You expect for the crew to stay silent once their captain arrives, but they hollar and cheer. Morphing Hobie's grimace into a smile. But it's still there, the anger and sadness, you can tell because you see it in the mirror everyday.

“Right, what's for dinner?” He sits down on the head of the table while his crew passes him a bowl and the pot. “Looks good, Finn. You've done it again, big man”

You hear Finn's signature grunt from somewhere along the table.

“Aye? She didn't mess anything up did she?” With just one grunt Hobie translated what Finn grunted.

How in the world?

Finn shrugs, making an ‘eh’ gesture with his hand. Hobie laughs, while you look at Finn with a ‘really?’ Look on your face. He rolls his eyes at you.

“I'm an…alright cook” you defend yourself but still remaining true.

“Sure you are, scuttlebutt. What other useful skills do you have, mhm?”

With a chance to prove yourself so they stop giving you tasks that break your back, you sell yourself.

“I recently learned how to sew and mend clothes.”

“You plannin’ on replacing Neddy as our sailmaker?”

Ned lifts his head up from his book. “What's that?”

“Nothin' Neddy. D’you know how to shoot?”

“Please say yes so you can join me with the cannons.” Yuri smirks further down the table.

“Uh, no I don't know how to handle gunpowder.” you refrain from looking at Yuri.

“Carpentry then? Fishing?”

“No and...no” you twiddle with your thumbs under the table.

Hobie grins mockingly at you. “Maybe we should just drop you overboard right now”

You grit your teeth. “I'm good with herbs and medicine. I'm guessing you don't have a ship doctor”

“Now you've piqued my interest.” Hobie casually leans on the table by his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Where did a fish girl like you learn about medicine, huh?”

“You only need to know that I can fix some of your crew's ailments. I'm not a doctor but I'm experienced”

“Closing wounds?” You nod. “Scurvy?”

“Theoretically, yes” you challenge him head on.

“The plague?”

“Survived it”

“The pox?”

“Most I can do is stop the spread and alleviate the pain, the survival depends on the person”

“Can we not talk about diseases while eating?!” Pav wildly gestures at his food.

“Carry on” Hobie side eyes you. Taking a huge bite of his loaf.

You throw him a fake smile.

“How are you liking the Revenge so far, Y/N?” Miles tries to make you forget the last interaction with him.

You wouldn't forget about it of course, it'll stay in the back of your mind, festering until your curiosity gets you and you ask who MJ actually is and why everyone quietened after she was mentioned. Maybe you'll do it one day, where your feet are firmly on the ground and you're not near any body of water.

Thinking of an answer that doesn't get you cut by a sword, you fake a smile. “Not what I expected”

“Did you expect blood and gold littered all over the place?” Hobie adds to the conversation. “Because that's in my quarters not here”

Gwen rolls her eyes at his joke while the others are either ignoring it or laughing along with Hobie.

One of the crew yells out on top of all the noise. “Aye, if you're lucky enough, girly, you'll see the inside of the cap’s quarters!”

Hobie shakes his head, throwing an entire plate towards the man with accuracy. Finn moves his head to the side casually before it hits him. The plate shatters then you hear the man scream obscenities.

“Don't listen to that animal” Hobie says without looking at you.

You want to get back at him for the lye comment so you decide to tease him, just to see his reaction, maybe he'll get flustered.

“And here I thought you were inviting me—”

BOOM!

The explosion shoves the entire ship harshly to the left, everyone slides with the movement including the table and chairs. Stew flies everywhere, loaves of bread soar overhead. Shards of sharp wood almost splinter your skin.

You land on the railing of the ship harshly. Opening your eyes through the pain, you see a crate heading your way.

“Fuck–!”

Strong arms grab you by the waist, saving you from getting crushed at the last minute. You hold on to their jacket with wild eyes.

“You alright?” Hobie's words are hushed and soft in your ear. You nod, trying to steady your racing heart. Looking up at him, his eyes roam your face for any injuries.

“I'm okay, what happened—?” noticing that you're still in his arms, you move away, correcting your balance when the ship hurls back to the right position. You try to reach for your necklace, until you remember that it's not there.

He nods once, his concerned face shifting into rage when he hears the sound of cannon balls behind him.

“Unfurl the fuckin' topsails!” He whirls around, directing his crew.

You hear fabric above you unfolding, the large blood red sails fills your vision. It dances in the wind like a macabre waltz.

You follow Hobie's line of sight, he glares at the large ship looming over the distance. The royal navy seal flaps on their bright blue sails.

“The Black Hellion” Hobie spits venom when he says the name. As he says it, a smaller ship appears behind the Hellion, racing to get to the Revenge.

“Fuck” he takes your hand, leading you under the stairs. Your legs drag as the crew rushes to get to their stations.

“Did you lead them here?!” Hobie grabs you by the shoulder, shoving you beneath the staircase, the wood behind you digs into your skin.

“What?! I swear I didn't— I didn't even know who you were until I got off the fucking net!” you stare down his angry eyes, grey swirling like a storm brewing behind it. “I swear on my life I am not navy!”

“You better not be,” He takes a rope from his belt then ties your hands together. Hobie lifts you by the binds effortlessly to a hook hanging above. You're dangling from the metal, the toes of your feet are barely on the ground.

“Hey—! What are you—?”

“We'll talk after this. Stay out of my way” Hobie leaves you behind.

You look at his retreating back in-between the spaces in the stairs. “Hobie! I'm not fucking navy!” you watch as he leads his entire crew with the anger of a lightning storm.

There's drum beats sounding above, bells ringing further across the water. You surmise the battle's only beginning.

Another cannon blasts, you cover your ears with your raised arms. The smell of gunpowder tickles your nostrils. The muffled yells of the pirates makes your head swirl and your heart pump rapidly. You try to jump as high as you can to get out of the hook, but it's too high up.

The boat lunges to the side again, the entire structure shakes. Your body swings and you hit your back against the hard wall. Groaning, your vision blurs for a second. Honing on the action, the navy ship rammed itself on the side of the revenge. You see uniform clad men jump ship, immediately fighting with the people you broke bread with.

There's a clashing of swords, pistols are fired wildly at each other. There's groans and screams of pain. You can't believe a few minutes ago the ship was full of laughter and warmth. Now blood is being spilled on the very floors you've cleaned. The laughter is replaced with agony filled yells and gurgled last words.

A sailor runs at full speed towards you, his sword shining in the moonlight. He yells a battlecry. The thought of them saving you is out of the window.

In an instant, a metal chain wraps around the uniformed man’s neck, he flies back, landing brutally, cracking the wood under him. You follow the end of the chain, you see Hobie dragging the sailor away, yanking and pulling at his neck until you hear a snap. The man lies still, you meet with Hobie's eyes through the stairs, you see a hurricane brewing in them.

He flings the chain back to him, the body thuds lifelessly on the wood. Hobie leaves without sparing you another glance. You've seen death numerous times during your journeys but not like this.

Not in front of you.

You stare at the body, all the noise and clashing of weapons falls deaf in your ears. Your hands shake, chest heaving and skin raising.

You have to get out of here.

Even if you have to chance it with the dinghy, even if you don't know how to row a boat or navigate the deep waters, you're gonna get out of here, out of the chaos and warm crimson that's seeping into the floorboards. You refuse to watch the chaos, but you can't avoid their shadows dancing in the moonlight.

You jump again, nothing. Again. You feel the rope lift up for a second. There's something metallic sliding near you, the knife stops near the foot of the stairs. It's too far away for you to even reach with your foot.

The rope burns your wrists, skin scraping against the rough hemp. It stings, like tear drops, your blood is slowly running down your arm.

You've got a better idea but it's a stretch. You still try it, moving your hands back and forth by swinging side to side, you slowly cut the rope with the sharp edge of the hook. Flakes of hemp fall on your head like snow.

There's a high pitched gasp in front of you, the sound makes you pause. Watching through the stairs, you see Gwen struggle under a large uniform clad man, his hands are around her throat. Squeezing painfully.

You hasten your movements, the rope cuts loose, the second your feet hit the ground, you run.

Grabbing the fallen knife from the ground with hot adrenaline rushing in your veins, you plunge it on the man's thigh swiftly. He screams in agony. You help Gwen up, she coughs loudly, clutching at her bruising neck.

“You fucking bitch!” The man grits his teeth, circling his hand around the handle of the knife still in his skin, he grins a bloodied smile.

You hear Gwen snicker in your arms.

He grabs the knife out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. Blood spurts out of him like a fountain, spraying you with warm ichor. You freeze. Gwen kicks the panicking man in the middle of his chest, he falls like a sack of potatoes on the floor, screaming and trying desperately to stop his bleeding.

You look around the chaos, trying not to listen to the man's pained screams. There's clouds of gunpowder hanging in the air, hiding all the bodies lying on the deck, away from your eyes.

“Gwen.” Hobie's raspy voice echoes out in the silence and atop of the leftover screams of the defeated. He throws her a pistol wordlessly.

Without hesitation, Gwen puts an end to the screaming.

There's complete silence now, the moon still hangs overhead, you wonder if the moon saw everything.

It looks like the pirates won as the navy ship is now commandeered by Hobie's crew. James yells from the mast, flipping the bird towards the retreating Black Hellion.

Shards of broken wood lay next to bodies, both pirates and navy. But the navy looks like it's the one that has suffered more loss. Pistols and muskets are littered around the once pristine deck. The smell of death and burned gunpowder permeates the air.

There's fresh crimson flowing beneath you, drenching the soles of your weathered boots. You feel the warmth spreading under your feet.

A hand claps your shoulder, “you saved me, thank you” Gwen smiles genuinely at you.

A yelp takes both of your attention, a man in a lieutenant’s uniform kneels in front of Hobie, his back being pushed down by Finn's boot.

Hobie crouches down, taking the sailor’s chin in his hand, his nails digging into the man's skin.

“Lieutenant George, your Captain left you to die.” He chuckles without humour. “So much for being called the king's flame, huh?.” Hobie sighs.

The lieutenant spits but Hobie dodges it. “I will use your own limbs to dig your grave! You damn pirate!”

“That doesn't sound practical” He stands up, under Hobie's bloodstained face you see the lines in-between his brows, tired, you know it well. “Take him below, Finn.”

“As for you,” Hobie's bloodshot eyes address you, he smiles, the twinkle in his eyes are back. “Red looks good on you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, realization hits you. With your sleeves, you wipe your face, smearing the ichor all over your skin more.

“Lock her in one of the cabins.” Hobie says to the men behind you. They take you by the arms.

“Wait—! Why? I told you I'm not one of them!”

“Hobie, come on, she saved my life!” Gwen advocates for you.

“I know, I saw, we're just gonna ask her questions, yeah?” Hobie stands in front of you, in all his blood soaked form. “She has nothin' to worry about unless she's hidin’ somethin’”

You could only glare at him as you're being dragged away, too exhausted from everything.

The rest of the crew watch on. Maybe the stories are right. But for your sake, you hope it's not.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bestie @thesevenofstaves for helping me out with the titles/names 🫶

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incorrectly-quoting-murderdrones · 6 months

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Sky’s Episode 7 Review (now that she’s stopped screaming) ((kinda))

Spoilers under the cut

Never trust interns with anything

Also holy shit the animation has gone from amazing to absolutely jaw-dropping

N desperately clawing at the rocks to get back to V is heartbreaking

The fact that the Disassembly Drones were built to murder humans and not the workers is one hell of a reveal and not something I expected at all.

That’s probably why Nori kept making plans about the murder drones before they even arrived, she kept thinking they were after the drones, not remembering they were there for the humans.

Now that we know Tessa is was nothing but a skin puppet, are there any humans left? Are all of them dead?

ALSO WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THE TESSA SKIN PUPPET?!

I thought maybe it was Cyn just puppeteering the spacesuit and making it seem bloody, but Jesus fucking Christ the skin suit was absolutely disturbing

Thad and Lizzy return!

Khan actually taking initiative? I do love the consistency of him being able to repair Uzi’s rail gun easily.

Also we’re not gonna talk about how Khan KEPT her rail gun?

Please for the love of god give Uzi a break. She really goes through it this episode.

Nori: “Bite me!”

Now we see where Uzi gets it from

N immediately screaming at the V hallucination and Uzi noping the fuck away from the wall of flesh was a great reverse on the usual horror tropes

So we’re just gonna gloss over how Nori is not only alive, but one of the weird little squid drones? If that affects drones with Absolute Solver, maybe Doll isn’t as dead as we think.

Just how much does J know? Is she even aware of Tessa being a puppet?

I love how in the fight between Uzi-Cyn and N, we get a callback to the Knife Dance!

“Nori! The truth is Uzi and I-“ and then he just writes “hang out”. They are really keeping the Nuzi fans in suspense, aren’t they.

“Your backups will forgive me” So there are clones of N? Did Cyn turn only N, J, and V into murder drones and then clone them a bunch?

Uzi drop kicked her own mother. This show is incredible.

N killed Tessa to save Uzi!

Elsie and Michael did an incredible job with the voice acting

Between the knife dance, hand holding, the “Hang out. Just hang out idk lol”, and the “We did NOT discuss being gross and stuff!”, I am getting so many mixed messages about N and Uzi’s relationship

I love that even though Nori’s head was scrambled when she married Khan and had Uzi, she actually thinks that Khan is a hunk in her normal mind.

Bit of a personal theory here, but with the way the show sets up both N and V having a crush on each other, and N and Uzi having a crush on each other, I think the show might actually have eNVUzi be canon rather than just Nuzi, Envy, or Vuzi, which I’d be totally down for

The way Uzi bites at the tentacle just so she can go down with a cool pose made me laugh

N just watched both of the girls he loves sacrifice themselves for him, learned that Tessa was fucking skinned and worn by Cyn like a puppet, learned that he himself has killed not just hundreds of worker drones but thousands of humans too, and is now alone in his quest to stop Cyn from destroying the universe.

He is going to need so much therapy if he survives this

Also AJ Dispirito coming through with another incredible soundtrack!

Nuzi’s theme playing during the “All I know is, I need you.” scene. (I think it’s the same leitmotif that plays during “Falling….for you?”)

Uzi’s theme (Solver Uzi) playing during her sacrifice

The music for the fight between Cyn and N?!?!?! Incredible!?!?!

#tw spoilers #Md spoilers #murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #envuzi #serial designation v #khan doorman #md lizzy #Md Thad #tessa james elliot #nori doorman #serial designation j #Cyn #absolute solver #that was a roller coaster from start to finish

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starnervefan · 2 months

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Some people have asked me how Detective Fear and Thief Joy's first meeting would go, so here goes...

----

Detective Fear AU: Fear and the Thief

(about 2,000~ words)

His lungs were burning by the time he made it up the stairs. He huffed and puffed, leaning against the guard rail to steady himself. As he caught his breath, his lips curled into a smug smile. The thief had nowhere to run now. She was cornered.

He burst through the door and onto the roof, training his revolver on the shadowy figure. "All right!" he called out. "Put your h…ha…."

The words died in his throat as the thief pulled back her hood, exposing glowing, golden skin and a crop of short, shimmery blue hair. She wiped the back of her gloved hand across her forehead and checked her belt. Only then did she turn her head in his direction, her blue eyes wide and startled. And what beautiful eyes, like great pools of sapphire, filled with an entire galaxy of stars…

Fear and the thief stared each other down for several long moments. No sound could be heard but the brisk September wind sighing between the skyscrapers, and the far-off sounds of traffic, many floors below. A siren wailed in the distance.

Fear slowly lowered his gun, almost involuntarily. Threatening this blue-eyed beauty with violence suddenly seemed a tad extreme. At a glance, she seemed so sweet and pure, her skin's glow casting an angel's halo around her exposed head and neck. Surely somebody this lovely couldn't possibly be bad?

In his line of work, he had come into contact with all manner of criminals. Even the women, beautiful though they may have been, had an air of hostility or cruelty to them. But Fear couldn't detect even the slightest hint of malice in the thief's face or posture. She warily fixed him with her wide, innocent eyes, clearly on guard for his next move. Perhaps he could talk her down? He cleared his throat and opened his mouth.

"I… I… um."

His tongue refused to cooperate, tripping over itself as he stammered incoherently. The thief furrowed her brows and cocked her head to one side, scrutinizing him thoughtfully. Fear felt his face begin to heat up beneath her appraising stare. Well, it would have been a good idea, if I could actually talk…

A slow smile crossed the thief's pixie-like face, her lids lowering. She ran a hand through her sapphire locks and struck a pose, resting a palm on her cocked hip. Fear suddenly felt exposed as she looked him up and down. "Well, hi there, Inspector Cutie," she purred.

Fear glanced behind him uncertainly while trying to keep one eye trained on the glowing beauty before him.

"Yeah, I'm talkin' to you, handsome." The thief sauntered toward him, flaring her hips with each step. She grasped him by the tie and slowly smoothed it down. Fear sucked in a breath, his spine tingling at her feather-like touch. "Tell me, what's your name?"

"I-it's… I… buh..." Fear could only stammer and sputter, the heat beneath his collar quickly becoming unbearable.

"'Fear', huh?" Even the simple way she said his name sent his head spinning.

He frowned suddenly, his focus snapping to attention. "Wait. H… how did you…?"

The thief held up Fear's police badge with a smug grin. "It's on this."

Fear gaped. He hadn't even noticed her swipe it from his coat pocket. "H-hey, g-give that back!" he squeaked, with as much authority as the crack in his voice allowed. He made a grab for it, but the thief giggled and held it out of reach, taking a few steps backward.

"Well, since I know your name, I'll tell you mine," she offered. "It's Joy. Master Thief Joy. My card." She produced a small piece of cardboard from seemingly nowhere and flashed him a glimpse of flowery text surrounded by sparkle and flower patterns.

"Um…" was about all he could think to say in response. Why does a thief need a business card? he wondered.

She thrust the card at him and he took it, perusing the text. You have been hoodwinked by Master Thief Joy! Have a stupendous day!

"That's my calling card," she explained, as she examined something in her hand. "Hey, is this your girlfriend? Oh, I'm so jealous - she's very pretty…"

"Huh?!" Fear's head snapped upright. Joy was now holding his wallet, going through his personal family photos. His face reddened in frustration. "G-give me that!" he demanded.

He made an impressive lunge toward her and this time, managed to knock the wallet out of her grasp. Coins tinkled as they bounced to the asphalt and papers flew everywhere. Fear desperately scrabbled to collect all his paper money before the chill breeze blew it away. When he stood, puffing and panting, Joy still held onto the photograph she'd been looking at. She held it up casually.

"Your girlfriend?" she prompted, as if nothing had happened and they were having a perfectly normal rooftop conversation.

"N-no, th-that's my mom," Fear grumbled, red in the face as he hastily stuffed his cash and belongings back into the cramped confines of his wallet. "And hand it over!"

To his surprise, Joy obliged. "You two look very close. That's so sweet!" she cooed, clasping her hands together.

Fear drew back from her, squinting. "This is… this is a trick, isn't it? Y-you're just… t-trying to c-confuse me, or… or something."

"Is it working?" she asked, batting her lashes disarmingly.

Fear frowned at her. She'd just openly admitted to… whatever it was she was doing. He should be angry, but the twisting sensations in his stomach and the giddy, lightheaded dizziness that had started the moment he'd seen her face had him thoroughly distracted as he fought to keep a clear head.

His heart skipped a beat as he suddenly realized that his hands were empty. He patted himself down and looked around absent-mindedly. While he'd been fumbling around with his wallet, where had he put…?

With an awful premonition, he slowly turned his head to the thief, who, sure enough, held something black and shiny in her sticky fingers, turning it over and examining it thoughtfully.

His heart stopped. He broke out in a cold sweat as his life flashed before his eyes. He hadn't even noticed her swipe his revolver. He was a goner now for sure! He put his hands up and prepared to plead for his life…

… but instead of shooting him, she grasped it by the muzzle and handed it back to him, grip first. His hands shook with adrenaline as he buried it safely in its holster. Joy inclined her head to the gun.

"Ya know, those things are awful dangerous. Somebody could get hurt," she smiled innocently.

Fear took deep breaths to try and calm himself, almost hyperventilating. "N-n-nobody has to get hurt," he heard himself saying. He tried to reason with the thief: "L-listen, uh, w-would you maybe consider returning that diamond?" He pointed shakily at the pouch on her belt, where something glinted from within.

"Oh, this?" Joy looked down as if noticing the pouch for the first time. "Sorry, no can do."

"Then, uh…" He coughed apologetically. "I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

"As entertaining as that sounds, no." She smirked at him incredulously. "Are you saying you'd actually let me go if I gave it back?"

"Uh, well, I don't… actually have the authority to do that… I mean, we have a laundry list of your offenses… but I could talk to people, explain the situation," he offered.

Joy looked at him oddly for a moment, before a wide grin slowly spread across her face. She placed her hands on her hips. "Okay, 'fess up, Inspector. Why are you being so nice to me? Do you like me or something?" she teased.

"H…huh?" Fear found himself beginning to blush once more. "I… b-but I'm just… t-trying to do my job…"

"None of you police-types have ever actually given me a choice in the matter before," Joy mused. "It's always, 'You're coming with me' or 'Come out with your hands up'. But you…" Her eyes lit up, practically sparkling with delight. "Here you are, treating me like an actual person! You must be the sweetest detective I've ever met."

Fear couldn't help it. His face split into a silly grin before he could stop it. He quickly slapped his hand against his face and turned to try and hide how flustered he was, but his palm couldn't stop the spout of goofy giggling that escaped his lungs.

Joy laughed lightly in return. "Oh, you're a cute one, Mr. Detective. I think I'll keep my eye on you."

Fear fidgeted, wringing his tie in his hands and trying to fight down his bashful grin. "S-so… um… any chance of you… uh… cooperating with me? I-I'll m-make sure they treat you well…"

Joy suddenly seemed distracted, glancing skyward. "Oh, finally!" she burst out, her face lighting up in a relieved smile.

For the first time, Fear took notice of the massive shadow suddenly falling across the roof. He whirled, looking up so fast his head spun.

A dirigible hovered over them, engines whirring loudly. The wind whipped fiercely around them, prompting Fear to hold tight to his hat. He could just make out a length of rope dangling from a window of the gondola.

"Well, it's been fun, Inspector, but I gotta go," Joy declared, giving him one last playful smile. With her cloak streaming behind her like a banner, she hopped effortlessly onto the parapet and grabbed the rope, giving it two sharp tugs.

It took him a moment, but slowly his wits returned. "W-wait!" Fear cried out, belatedly giving chase. "Y-you can't leave now! I-I need that diamond!" He came to an abrupt halt as he slammed against the parapet, making a desperate grab for Joy's belt as she dangled freely from the edge of the building. She twisted easily out of his reach.

"Let's do this again sometime," she purred, swinging back around so she could stroke his chin with a single glowing fingertip. "And oh, don't look so glum. I'm sure we'll see each other again very soon!"

As the airship ponderously turned and floated away into the heavens, Joy clung to the rope. He thought he saw her blow him a kiss before she turned away. He watched her longingly, hardly able to breathe.

He watched until the airship was a mere speck on the horizon, then he watched some more. Slowly he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Geez. What… what just happened…? He drew out Joy's calling card from his coat pocket, turning it over in his hand. You have been hoodwinked by Master Thief Joy! it read. "I'll say," he muttered to himself.

The door to the rooftop burst open with a bang. Fear jumped and whirled around, fully expecting to find trouble, but it was only Anger.

Anger's thick chest heaved as he stood in the doorway, glaring at Fear. "Well?" he panted. "Where is she?"

"She…" Fear stuffed the calling card hastily back into his coat pocket. "Sh-she… uh, she left."

"She's gone?" Anger demanded, dumbfounded. "You let her escape? How did she escape?!" He looked around, his scowl darkening dangerously. "There's nowhere to run! You had her right where you wanted her!" he yelled, throwing his arms wide. Fear shrugged helplessly with a nervous giggle.

"Seriously, how did you let her slip away?" Anger growled, stomping over to the edge of the roof.

Fear shrank away from him, intimidated. "Well, see, there was this airship…" he began uncertainly. "A-and it just kind of… swooped down out of nowhere, and then… she was gone."

"An airship?" Anger repeated incredulously. He narrowed his eyes and glanced to the sky. He clenched his teeth, the air above his head beginning to steam. "I don't see any airship."

"W-well, it was-- it was right there…" Fear stammered, pointing. "A-and a rope came down, and Miss Joy-- th-the thief grabbed onto the rope and sailed away."

Anger wiped his palm down his face in exasperation, muttering and grumbling. He took a deep breath, trying his level best to be patient. "Can I get a description of this magical, mythical airship?" Fear thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Did you happen to see who was driving the thing?" Anger prodded. Fear shook his head again, his face burning with humiliation.

"Do you know anything useful at all?!" Anger burst out, taking off his hat and throwing it to the ground, frustrated. He always did this when he got angry, partly because it just plain felt good, but mostly because whenever he lost his temper, the top of his head would burst into flames. Fear had lost count of all the hats Anger had burned to a crisp because he wasn't fast enough to fling them to the ground.

Fear tried desperately to think back to just a few minutes earlier, but he drew a blank. All he could see in his mind's eye was Joy: her face, the stars in her eyes, her teasing smile and long, supple legs…

"Fear? Earth to Fear?!"

Anger's voice snapped him out of his reverie. He became aware that his partner had grabbed him by the arms and was shaking him roughly.

Fear did his best to come up with an explanation, but he could only sigh heavily, his back drooping in defeat. "I… I'm sorry. I… I guess I just wasn't… fast enough."

"Our client isn't gonna like this," Anger rumbled, shooting Fear a dark look. "You'd best have a better explanation ready for when we get back to headquarters empty-handed." Fear winced with dread, knowing that Anger was right.

As he followed Anger down the stairs and out onto the busy street, Fear buried his hands deep in his pockets and scowled at nothing. He felt so foolish. Miss Joy had just been playing with him, stalling for time until her buddies showed up. Why, she was probably laughing at him right now, telling whoever was on the airship with her all about it. Just thinking about it made his neck burn with embarrassment.

And yet…

He gazed dreamily up at the clouds across the moon, the same bright moon that had overlooked him and Joy on the rooftop. There, beneath that same moon, under those very stars and wispy clouds, he had felt something. Something that he couldn't see or explain. Something about Miss Joy had struck a chord deep within him, and he knew that he would never be able to forget her.

#inside out #fanfiction #writing #my writing #detective fear au #starnerve #joy x fear #fanfic #au fic #inside out au #detective au #detective x thief #long post #this is my first time posting my writing anywhere so please be nice

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tell-me-a-tale-that-tells · 2 months

Text

HIS EVERLOVING DARK STAR

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Summary: Hancock encounters a vampire woman and slowly fell for her.

Pairing: John Hancock (Fallout 4) x Vampire OC

Type: request

Warnings: blood, sex, chem use

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The thunderstorm in the wasteland is not an easy business.

Besides deafening sounds, the blinding flashes of lightnings, the radiations are the ones that will kill you for sure.

Unless you're a ghoul, then you can stay out in the open, under the poisonous rain, like it's a fricking day at the spa.

Hancock is doing just that, smoking on the balcony of the town hall.

He doesn't know what the hell he's smoking but it must be good because it's doing wonders with his nerves.

He glances behind him, checking on her.

Oh, her.

John wonders every day what he had done to be worthy of having her in his life.

Her long body sprawled on the couch, wearing only a thin night grown.

She takes a hit of Jet and then, feeling watched, she looks in his direction with a warm smile.

Yeah, he feels like the luckiest bastard in the whole world.

Their encounter was, for sure, the strangest of his life.

In a pitch-dark night, when not even the most remote star dared to show itself in the sky, he was returning home from the third rail.

The rustling of garbage in an alley picked his attention, it's not that in Goodneightbor there aren't cats or rats, but one can't be never sure.

He cocked his gun, ready to shot, just in case.

Hancock turned left and freezes on the spot.

On the ground there was an Assassin, his throat slit from ear to ear, his unseen eyes still open.

The figure crouched down on him halted their movements, raising their hands at the sound of the first shot.

"Wait! Wait don't shoot!" She yelled and John realized that the girl's hands were covered in blood.

"Besides doing me a favor, killing off that bastard, tell me why the fuck I shouldn't make a hole in your head" John hissed.

"Let me explain, please" The woman answered, slightly turning her head.

Hancock could see that even her mouth was red, smudged with fresh and glistening blood.

As she turned around, he pointed his gun right between her eyes "Sister, I'm afraid cannibals are unwelcomed in my town".

She narrowed her brows, looking confused and offended "I'm not a cannibal. I wasn't eating him; I was drinking his blood."

John could have laughed at her tone because she spoke those worlds like it was the most obvious thing to say.

"And what does that make you, uh? A vampire?" He smirked.

"...Well, yes" she stated.

Maybe he was way too drunk or high for that.

"Listen. As I said, I have to thank you because that man was only causing troubles and he met the end he deserved. But I can't let you go so easily; you could hurt some innocent" he lowered his gun anyway.

"Are you a... sheriff or something?" She smirked, raising an eyebrow at his strange attire.

"I am the mayor, actually. John Hancock" he tipped his hat.

"Nimue" she answered back, her stained lips curling in a smile.

Since that encounter their days have been a crazy rollercoaster.

He tried to arrest her twice, keeping her in jail was basically hearing her hissing and complaining about the heat.

If Nimue is truly a vampire, John can't tell, she could be just a crazy woman with a very serious iron deficiency.

Sure, she drinks a lot of blood, but she uses also a lot of chems.

He like that part a lot.

Nimue can handle chems better than him, she needs at least twice the dose he takes to have the slightest effect, but when she's high...John blesses the Gods if there are any.

She's crazy when sober, her chatting and easygoing nature is so refreshing in a town like Goodneightbor or in every other town she steps in.

She seems rough and dangerous on the exterior but once one knows her better, they can appreciate her light side.

When she's high the things change, she's almost predatory, sensual and sinful but never in an unsettling way, there's always a sweet side peeking under all that dominance, a certain softness in her eyes.

Their first time together was unforgettable for both of them.

She was dancing around at the Third Rail, her body swaying to the nonexistent music.

Hancock had never seen anything like it.

He was mesmerized by her movements, the way her long legs seemed to glide over the floor.

"C'mon, Mayor. Why don't you join me?" She giggled

As Hancock watched Nimue dance, he couldn't help but feel his desire for her growing.

He'd always found her captivating, even in her most unpredictable moments.

With a smile, he stepped close to her "I'm afraid I can't dance" he said softly.

"Neither do I" Nimue stopped dancing and turned to face him, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

She walked up to him, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest as she reached out to take his hand.

She lifted his arm, turning underneath it, and then placed her other hand on his shoulder.

"Like this," she murmured, guiding him through a few slow steps.

Hancock was surprised at how natural it felt to move with her, even if it was just a simple dance.

She was so close, their bodies swaying together in perfect harmony.

Hancock could feel his heart racing as he looked into Nimue's eyes and her intense gaze seemed to pierce right through him.

The chemistry between them was palpable, and Hancock couldn't help but lean in closer.

"John..." Nimue whispered, "I think that I... might have feelings for you," Nimue admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She stepped back slightly, breaking the intense moment they had shared. Hancock was taken aback by her confession.

He'd always known there was something between them, but he hadn't expected her to admit it so openly." Hancock felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he processed her words.

"Nimue, I... Are you sure? You don't really want to be stuck with this ugly face" Nimue giggled softly at his comment, but there was a touch of sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, John," she said, reaching up to caress his scarred skin "You're anything but ugly."

Nimue’s mouth was just a mere inch from his as she spoke "I don't care about your scars, John. You are strong, resilient, and brave. You spared my life and gave me a home, and for that, I will always be grateful."

The kiss was intense and passionate.

Hancock couldn't believe it, but he was kissing Nimue.

His heart raced as he deepened the kiss, his hands running through her hair and down her back.

She responded eagerly, her hands slipping around his waist and pulling him closer.

One of her razor-sharp teeth cut his lip and Nimue gasped an apology, she looked at the small cut on his lip.

Her eyes were filled with regret, "I'm sorry," she said softly "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Hancock smiled, trying to reassure her, "It's alright," he said, gently tracing the cut on his lip with his finger "It's just a small price to pay for such an amazing kiss."

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

Nimue burst out in a laugh “Always so quick with a comeback, aren’t you?" She leaned in closer to him, their breaths mingling as they shared another intimate moment.

"What do you think if...we take this elsewhere?" Hancock looked at Nimue, his heart racing with anticipation.

He nodded slowly, his voice low, "Yeah, I think that could be a good idea."

"At mine or yours?" Nimue's question caused a smile to spread across Hancock's face.

He liked the idea of them being together in a private space, just the two of them.

"Mine" he replied, reaching out to brush his hand against hers.

The way to the town hall was interrupted many times by kisses.

The moment they stepped inside, the tension between them seemed to rise even more.

Hancock closed the door behind them, locking it tightly.

He turned to face Nimue, taking in every inch of her beautiful face.

Then everything was a blur of chems and alcohol and Nimue drinking blood from a sack before sitting on his lap.

"Are you hiding a knife or you're happy to see me?” She smirked.

Hancock chuckled at Nimue's playful banter.

He reached for her hand and led it towards his pocket "Well, this is actually my knife," he said before moving her hand over his crotch "and this definitely isn't it"

“And what do you plan to do with it?" Nimue looked at Hancock, her eyes filled with mischief and lust.

When she didn’t hear Hancock respond, she leaned closer to his ear "I'll tell you what we will do...", Nimue's words were soft "We're going to make love until the sun rises and then..." Nimue's words trailed off, leaving Hancock hanging on her every word "We will do it again."

John could only nod and smile, trailing his hands up and down her body, caressing her back and sides.

Nimue sighed contentedly, her eyes closing and her head tilted back, exposing the pale column of her neck.

John's hand wrapped around it, not squeezing but simply resting before his mouth joined in, propping a trail of wet kisses that made Nimue gasp.

Her hands slipped under his shirt, touching his roughed skin with a reverence and marvel that John couldn't believe it.

"Take this off, please” she asked.

He's self-conscious about his appearance, he knows very well what people think of ghouls and how repulsive they look to most of them.

It was rare to find someone who accepted them outside Goodneightbor, but Nimue couldn't care less about stupid people's minds.

Her eyes started on every new inch of exposed skin like it was a holy revelation.

She began to kiss and lick, occasionally grazing her teeth without biting.

John's mind was a haze of chemicals and arousal, he bet she felt his hardened member pressing at the worn fabric of his pants.

Like she was reading his mind, Nimue started to grind her hips on him, moaning softly in his ear.

John's control finally snapped.

He raised from the couch, taking her with him and carrying her to his bed.

He laid her on the raggedy sheets and sat in front of her. "You're still wearing too much" she murmured against his lips.

John chuckled, removing his boots and pants.

Nimue sat up, removing her red sparkling dress, exposing her body to him.

In his fogged mind he still could think that that didn't feel like a fling, one of the countless times he took someone in his bed just to never see them again the day after.

Now both in their underwear, it didn't take too much before they slipped the last articles of clothing off from each other bodies.

"John, please. I know we have all the time we want but...please" Nimue's pleading words made John's heart race, and he couldn't resist her any longer.

He slowly lowered himself onto her, feeling their bodies meld together as he slowly entered her.

She gasped, her eyes closing in pure bliss.

It was John's turn to moan once he bottomed out, feeling every inch of her warmth surrounding him.

They started to move in unison, their breaths becoming ragged as pleasure consumed them both.

Nimue arched her back and gripped Hancock's shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

In her long life, she never felt anything like that, she thought about it as John's strong hands held her hips tightly, moving rhythmically against her.

She could feel every inch of him inside of her, his rough skin creating a delicious friction.

When John filled her for the first time with his release, she couldn't do anything but following him over the edge, her long legs shaking from the force of her orgasm.

"John," she gasped, kissing his neck above his pulse "Again." Hancock rolled on his back, taking Nimue with him and positioning on her on top, "Work for it" he whispered playfully.

John's heart almost exploded as he watched Nimue's body bouncing on him and shake with pleasure, the sight of her breasts swaying entranced him and he cupped them in his hands, squeezing gently.

He felt a surge of pride knowing that he was the one who brought her to this state.

Her grip on him was tight like a vice, the drag of her inner walls was enough to make him lose his mind.

His hips bucked up, urging her to go deeper, to feel every inch of him.

His climax was building shockingly fast, and Nimue could feel it too.

She smiled down at him "Coming so soon?" she teased, biting her bottom lip playfully.

Hancock groaned, his muscles tense underneath her "You're killing me, Nimue."

She leaned down to whisper in his ear, "I could say the same about you, my love."

The rest of the night was a frenzy of passion and love, as the nights that followed.

Day by day, night by night, Nimue remains by his side on the highs and lows, always the faithful, unpredictable companion.

After months of living together, John and Nimue's relationship had evolved into something deeper and more meaningful.

They shared everything, their joys, their fears, their secrets and their love for each other only grew stronger.

John is reflecting on all that, still smoking his cigarette on the balcony, it's been years since they met and both of them hasn't changed or aged a day.

Nimue makes a 'come here' motion with her finger, giggling and slightly raising up her nightgown in a sensual and inviting manner.

John shakes his head amused, "I thought you had enough for tonight" he says, walking towards her.

Nimue smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

"I always have room for more," she purred, nuzzling her face against his chest.

"After all," she continued, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye, "we have all the time in the world."

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #fallout #john hancock #smut #fallout 4

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star-girl69 · 2 years

Note

Hii are you taking requests rn? If so can I request a jake x neytiri x fem omatikaya! Reader fic where Jake and Neytiri have a fat crush on y/n but don’t really know how to go about telling her and they end up being really awkward about it. Maybe like they stumble over their words around her and the couple become an awkward mess trying to hint that they like her? Reader isn’t dumb tho and she can tell and admits she likes them too 🤭 would be super cute if it was a really fluffy fic!

Drink Your Poison (I’ll Kiss it Out)

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: a lot of facts about pandoran wildlife is incorrect and i apologize for that, i’m just too lazy to go back and change it. and i doubt it takes someone this much time to learn archery but… for the sake of the plot! also this is just obscenely long.

also i’m so sorry anon this fic just went off the rails 😭😭😭😭

warnings: animal death, mentions of death, near death experience, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of blood and injury, mentions of poison, angst, swearing, light fighting, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“My mother…” Neytiri starts, head on her mate’s shoulder, fingertips circling absentmindedly across his chest. “Wants us to teach her friend’s daughter how to hunt and fight.”

It is late summer, autumn starting to creep in. It’s is cold as the look at the stars, the summer is getting cooler, but they are warm on the other’s embrace.

“Why do we gotta do it?” Jake groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Neytiri shrugs, sees a wisp from the spirit tree fly above them.

—-

Every morning, you rise when the sun does. Wash your face in a bowl of water, eat quick, dress, and sling your bow over your shoulder to head out into the brightness.

The sun always shines straight in your eyes, and this morning is no different.

You look towards your left, to the forest, find Jake and Neytiri waiting for you.

You father had been a great warrior, but you had never excelled in the art of it. Once he died, your mother had been insistent that somebody carry on the family legacy- being the best hunter in the clan. With no other siblings to speak of, she forced training upon training on you, but it never took.

Until, finally, she confided in Mo’at about her issue.

Mo’at, knowing that Jake and Neytiri were still young, still needed practice. She decided that teaching you could be a sort of test for them- if they could teach you how to hunt, then surely they could lead the clan?

Every morning, you walked begrudgingly over to them, groaning all the way. It was not your fault you preferred other things to hunting, not your fault that you were not born for it like your father was. But, your mother was insistent, and you loved her.

You slap a fake smile onto her face you come into earshot of them, and Jake smiles widely and greets you. Neytiri sends you a tight lipped smile, but you do not mind. None of you want to be here, Neytiri is just not as good as putting on a show.

You look at Jake as his face turned serious, and he takes your bow from your hands. You’re a bit put off by his actions, but in the week they have been teaching you, you have come to learn that Jake often has a plan for each moment he makes. Everything is intentional.

He points to the string.

“What is this called?”

He smiles as you roll your eyes, giving you and expectant look.

“Really?” you ask, feeling like a child.

“What is this?” he simply asks again, and you sigh.

“The string.”

“Good. And this?”

It continues on until you have named all the parts of how correctly, and Jake smiles.

“Good girl,” he praises, and although your stomach flips in a way it shouldn’t, you have grown used to the names he calls you.

“Yes,” Neytiri says, sliding off of the large rock she was sitting on. “You did well. You are ready.”

You face lights up, the prospect of this early morning torture ending making your heart twist.

“Just to shoot,” she says, but smiles at your disappointed look.

Due to their duties, your lessons are early in the morning and quite short, so your training takes triple the time than it would someone learning from your old teacher.

“Soon,” Jake tries, handing you the bow, and you can only bite back a grumble as you trudge through the forest.

—-

It is the third day of shooting when it finally happens.

You had been waiting all this time, for the pressure to get to you, for you to snap and fall, break apart.

You are being held together by the stems of flowers, so close to breaking, the air permeated by the sound of its slow rip.

You trudge through the woods yet again, feeling defeated before you had even started. In theory, you should be an expert at the bow.

You know each part of it, your stance is perfect, and yet you can never quiet hit the bullseye.

You feel like a stupid child, and you curse the day your father died. If he had not died so early, left so much ambiguity, perhaps your mother would not be scrambling for pieces of him in you.

It is a heavy weight to carry, and your back is breaking under the pressure.

You sigh as you face the target, Jake watching your stance.

“Good, good. Try moving your foot a bit forward- yes, perfect. Atta girl.”

You send a silent prayer to Eywa, more so a plea, begging to hit the bullseye just once. So you can go home and tell your mother, and perhaps she will start to heal, perhaps she will let you be you.

“You’re too tense,” Neytiri notes, and your eyes are already blurry with tears.

“‘M not,” you mutter, and she clicks her tongue.

“You cannot shoot if you mind is elsewhere. Hunting is as physical as it is mental. What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” you hiss. You can no longer slap a smile onto your face, pretend it is all well. The clearing falls silent, and you only feel more stupid, more worthless. “Can I shoot?” you ask through the silence, voice choked up.

“Yeah,” Jake whispers, and your arrow cuts through the tension as you release it.

But, with your blurry eyes and tense muscles, the arrow sinks into the drift below the target, missing the bullseye. Missing the bullseye.

It takes a second for it to sink in, for your eyes to clear enough of the salt to even see where the arrow had landed. But, you see it, and you have never felt like more of a failure.

Tears fall down your face, like the final decrescendo of a song, and you are filled with an overwhelming self hate.

Soon, you cannot see in front of you again, and the bow is falling to the ground and your hands are coming to you face, pressing against your mouth as you choke back a loud sob.

Why can’t you be like you father? Why cant you be what your mother needs you to be?

Your cries are loud as they fill the clearing, and you don’t stop until a warm hand rests on your shoulder.

Like the recoil of the string after you let go of the arrow, you snap into place, spine straight. You turn, saying how sorry you are, desperate to push past whoever is stopping you and run back to your bed.

Is it wrong to hide there forever, pretend you have never seen a bow before, pretend the pressures of your mother don’t exist?

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, head tucked into your chest, throwing your hands out blindly as you try to push past. “for- for wasting your-” you breathe in heavily, practically heaving, barely breathing.

“Y/N,” a voice says, and arms wrap around your biceps, holding you in place. “Y/N, deep breaths,” it says, and you look up to find Jake staring down at you, concern in his eyes.

You cease your struggling, let yourself sag against him, and he places his head on top of yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You est presses against his chest, a heartbeat thundering in your ears, much softer than what is happening in your own chest.

Suddenly, Neytiri fills your field of vision, placing a hand on the side of your face. Her voice fills your ear, and anchor back to the ground, and it takes you a moment to realize what she is saying.

“You have to breathe, Y/N. Breathe,” she urges, placing her hand over her chest and breathing in deeply, exaggerated, movements big, encouraging you to copy her.

With shaky movements, shaky breath, you manage one, then another, then another.

“What is wrong, Y/N?” she finally asks, and you screw your eyes shut, pushing away from Jake, embarrassed and foolish.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, face still damp with tears. “I- I should go,” you say, but Jake stops you with a pointed look. “It’s not your responsibility to help me.”

“We would not ask if we didn’t want to help you.” Jake replies, and perhaps it if selfish, but you have been bottling everything up.

You take a breath. “My father was a great warrior. My mother- when he died, she wanted someone to carry on his legacy. I have no siblings, so it was up to me.” You let out a dry laugh. “And you see- I am nothing with a bow. And I tell her, and she says I am just not trying hard enough. I am tired of living under her pressures, and I just- I couldn’t do it, not today.”

“You do not deserve to have the legacy of your father pushed on you, Y/N. I’m sorry, truly,” Jake says.

“When my father died,” Neytiri starts, cutting through the silence that had fallen. “My mother put not pressure on me. I put it all onto myself, because I carried his bow and promised to protect The People. I know what it is like for your back to break like that, Y/N. And you shouldn’t have to suffer.”

You look her up and down, and she does the same, her expression changing, tone softening, almost as if she has realized something new to you that has been there the entire time. Like she was seeing you in a different light.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Jake softly smacked your shoulder.

“Atta girl,” he said, and it felt different this time.

—-

The next week was peaceful, with Jake and Neytiri off visiting another clan. You didn’t have to wake up as early, and slowly, the embarrassment at your breakdown faded.

They were so far away, taking your thoughts with them. You didn’t see your mother much, you made it your mission to get out of the tent as much as possible, stay away from her, lest you broke down in front of her. You couldn’t take that again, not so soon.

You felt like you were floating through life, praying to Eywa for some guidance, something to ground you to the earth.

In return, two people filled your mind. Your dreams, your waking moment. They filled you, and you thought about them constantly.

Washing your clothes, collecting food, something persistent: I miss them, I want them.

It was what your blood sung, what rested in your heart. As the days stretched on, your fondness only grew and grew, days blending until it was the day the arrived. You didn’t see them, but you knew they would come the next morning to train you.

(You dreamt about them.)

—-

Your morning routine was slightly less soul-crushing, you mused.

Regardless of the crush you realized you had on the two, you did genuinely want to see them. And, hopefully, they would want to see you too.

Something had connected you the day you broke down, giving the three of you a common denominator, peeling back some layers, new parts showing through.

Something had changed, and you knew it and yet didn’t know it.

You slung your bow over your shoulder, moving aside the flap of the tent, only to be met with blue. When you looked up, Jake was in front of you, smiling down sweetly.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, and you swear you saw him bite his tongue. His eyes turned to your bow next. “You won’t be needing that today.”

You backed up, so you didn’t have to crane your neck to look at him, before taking the bow into your hands suspiciously.

You noticed Neytiri then, when she spoke, appearing nearly out of nowhere. “Really,” she smiles, eyes trailing up and down. “You do not need it.”

Quickly, you rush back into your tent, throwing the bow to the ground and saying a silent thank-you to Eywa, coming back outside before the two could change their mind.

—-

“We still have to train you. We made a promise. But, we thought to give you a break, no?” you nod as Jake speaks, playing with the knife he had given you as the two lead you through the forest.

“A sturmbeest was here yesterday,” Neytiri says, ears perked up and tail swishing. Her bow is huge, the one of the late Olo’eykan. Orange and red, you think it is about as tall as a human. “The hunting party failed to capture it. But I am better than them,” she gloats, looking at you over her shoulder, almost to make sure you heard.

You smile, and she does as well, before putting a finger to her lips and turning back towards the forest. The only sounds you can hear are of faint footsteps, birds calling, the forest aching and moving as it wakes.

Neytiri leads the two of you into the forest, until she stops and beckons you over. When you stand next to her, close, the surrounding bush making it hard not to, you see what she is looking at. With you limited knowledge, even you know that is some sort of animal print.

Neytiri crouches low, touching the wide part of the footprint, easily embedded into the soft dirt below.

“The front of a sturmbeest’s foot is wider than the back. So… the sturmbeest is heading south.” You nod, trying to commit her words to memory.

You and Jake follow her silently, until the sound something moving surprises you. You turn around, only to find that it is Jake moving the gun from his back into his hands. You hadn’t even noticed it.

“Thanator territory,” he says, barely a whisper. But you hear him and nod, look out at the forest wearily. You haven’t seen a Thanator up close, only the dead body of a small one. But you have heard stories of them, know how big they can get.

Suddenly, Neytiri raises her hand, kneeling before a fallen tree trunk. The two of you come close to her, foliage providing cover, all squished together on the small log. Elbows stick out and touch, and you swear you could reach out and collect the tension in your hands.

“Got you,” Neytiri whispers, silently placing an arrow into her bow. Her form is impeccable , and she is unwavering, strong and beautiful and fueling your stupid crush my just existing.

She pulls her arm back, breathes out, and lets the arrow fly. It’s soars through the air, wind whistling, meeting its target and sinking into flesh before the sturmbeest can react.

The sturmbeest calls out and falls to the ground, Neytiri managing to hit that perfect place.

She is a force, you think, as she jumps over the log, knife in hand, kneeling before the sturmbeest and whispering to it. Thanking it for its sacrifice, thanking Eywa. Finally, she sinks her knife into that death spot, and the animal stops it’s squirming.

The forest is quiet for a moment, until Jake leans downs to get a closer look at the beast.

“Good job,” he says, and Neytiri seems unmoved by his compliment. She turns to you, slightly smug, bow in her hands.

“That is how you do it, hm?”

You laugh while Jake calls in the kill, pressing the black cord around his neck and speaking into it. He tells you they’ll stay until the human flying machine can come to you. He calls it something else, but the words are foreign on your tongue and make you feel odd.

Instead, you take to exploring, keeping the clearing in sight, fooling around and observing the flora and fauna of Pandora.

You fainting heard Jake and Neytiri talking, the regular movement of the forest, but that all faded as you heard loud footsteps. Hundreds of them, raining down like a violent storm, each footstep like the pitter-patter of rain. It was like you had angered Eywa, and she had come for her revenge.

You knew whatever was coming would tear through the bushes soon, forcing a path, creating at path. But you were frozen in fear, paralyzed of the sound, like thunder in the ground.

Suddenly, you were tugged to the side, behind a tree, pressed tight against someone. Instinctively, you pushed into them, fight or flight taking over, and whoever your savior was smelled like the forest, like home.

You screw your eyes shut, winding your arms around your savior’s neck, until the thunder stops, and the forest is still again.

“Are you okay?” when you look up, it is Jake who saved you.

—-

“Today,” Jake starts, leaning against a tree, “we thought you should try shooting with a different bow.”

“Really?” you muse. “A different bow is going to fix all of my problems?”

“Well- it’s not-” he stutters, and you feel a little mean.

“I was joking, Jake.” You crack a smile to soften the blow, but he still inwardly cringes and looks away.

You have noticed, ever since you cried in front of them, ever since the stampede where Jake had saved you, you noticed. The stuttering words, the odd looks, the way Neytiri smiled at you more and more with each day. A week had passed, and it only became more and more everyday. Overwhelming in the best way.

It confused you. Excited you. But you knew.

It was obvious they liked you- and you certainly had no qualms about it. Triads were uncommon among the people, but not unheard of. Accepted, most definitely. That was no problem to you. But it was the way they were so awkward.

You never imagined yourself being the one to make the first move, but you wanted them, even just for a night. If they were not going to do it, then you must.

—-

“You know, we’re practically best friends with all the time we spend together, yet we don’t really know anything about each other.”

Neytiri looks up at you from below you, crouched down, adjusting your stance by your hips.

“Why- why would you want to know us?”

“Because you’re my best friends, obviously.”

Jake laughs, shaking his head as sharpens his knife.

“No, I’m serious! My life is this: morning lessons with you two, breakfast, chores, and then I just try and avoid my mother until supper.”

Neytiri smiles, standing up after your hips are where she would like them to me, taking a step back to check her stance. But you have gotten used to this- her eyes go where they don’t have to, stay in places longer than they need too. It seems more like she’s admiring you. But she’s so subtle, you barely realize.

“That is lonely.” Neytiri is blunt, but you take no offense to it. You know how lonely it sounds, you know how lonely it is.

That’s why they are much more than your friends, something more, in between, they are your saviors. Not only literally, but figuratively. Without their lessons, their conversations, without them to dream about during the night and day- anytime, all the time- you would go crazy.

“Come over,” and the words are a fever dream, and you are fever dream, unreal, metaphysical.

“What?”

“Come over,” Jake repeats, and Neytiri is looking at the slope of your neck, prominent in your archery stance. “Tomorrow, dinner.”

Your heart is in your chest.

“If- if you want to.”

You smile, because he was doing so well, but it’s alright. It’s endearing, sweet.

“Yeah.”

Neytiri takes a step back. “Shoot.”

You do, and you miss, but you didn’t really. Not in the way it matters.

—-

The next day, nothing is out of the ordinary. The same lingering looks, the same feeling in your chest, until you are just about to leave.

“An hour before eclipse? I’m a good cook, promise.”

“Yes,” you say, losing the war, the war to them, that you never wanted to win anyways.

—-

You wonder if they even know what they do to you.

If they know how you feel, if they even know how they feel themself.

Do they know there are stars on their skin? A feeling in your heart, like an arrow has been shot into it? But it’s not painful, not like it sounds. It’s a beautiful feeling. A lovely feeling. It’s misleading like that, like them.

Your heart is aching and as you sit with them, roasted sturmbeest in your hands- the one Neytiri caught that day- the conversation is pleasant. Not want you what.

With each swallow, each bite past your lips, each awkward bate in talking it is like you are sitting at a table, licking your lips, empty poison bottle in your hands. But it tastes so good, and you wish you could share. But you won’t share. You can’t share. Not when it’s yours, only yours, and it should always stay like that.

Your feelings only grow at the dinner table, more certain that all you want them to do is eat you up, swallow you whole, but it’s no problem; you know you’ll be safe.

Jake hands you a wrapped up piece of dried sturmbeest, smiles and says to add some poison before you give it to your mother. Neytiri hits him, and it’s a cruel joke, but you find it in yourself to smile.

Like a feedback loop, with the rise of your feelings comes the doubt of theirs. Each soft smile, each “you can come over whenever you want,” only makes something slip into your mind. Until you realize.

“I just- I just wanted to say- I’m not something you need to pity.”

Jake smiles, looks taken aback. “Why would you think that?”

“Yes,” Neytiri says, smile fading from her face, confusion creeping into her voice.

“Listen,” you tuck your chin to your chest, you never should have said anything, “this was really nice, really fun? I like you two, but I’m- I’m not a toy for you to play with.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jake says. “You’re tired. Take the day off tomorrow-”

“No! What?” you huff, ignoring the butterflies on your stomach when he places a hand on your shoulder. You shove him off, but it hurts to do it. Hurts to be away from him, now that you’ve got one taste.

“My Jake-” Neytiri starts, but you are annoyed, frustrated that they won’t just make a move, frustrated that they probably don’t even see you that way.

“I’m not tired. I know what I am, what I want.” Your eyes flick between them as you say it, venom on your lips, poison bubbling up.

“What does that mean?” Neytiri asks, eyes narrowing, but you have dug your own grave and you cannot dove out now. Your only hope is to keep digging, find some other side.

“It means I know what I want. Unlike some people.”

“Unlike us?” Jake crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying it’s rude to lead people on. I’m saying it’s rude to make me think- only for me to be a pity case.”

His eyes darken, and he takes a step forward.

“Make you think what?”

“You know!” you shout, even though you don’t know if he does.

“Say it,” Neytiri whispers, fire in her eyes, coming closer to you, next to Jake now, past him. She is right in front of you, and so beautiful, and you have already drunk your poison.

“Don’t wanna talk.”

Then you crash your lips onto hers, because who cares if you life will be ruined? You want it just once, before you go crazy, because you can live without the touches, the looks, but you have to have a little taste just once.

Just as the novelty of the moment wears off, and it is simply you kissing Neytiri, Jake watching, and you feel small and stupid. Stupid for ever thinking any of this was what is was.

You pull away, cheeks hot, anger in your chest, poison in your throat, when Jake’s finger hook under your chin and tug your head up, and it is perfect and everything, and he tastes like the forest, like the joke you have always know, will only ever know.

You will only ever know this. The feel of their lips on yours.

When he pulls back, you are wide eyed and breathless, disbelieving. You feel like someone will come around the corner, point at you and laugh.

“We didn’t know-” he starts.

“I knew.”

Jake’s face falls, turning a little less worried, into a small smile.

“That obvious?”

“Painfully.”

“Y/N.” Her hands on yours are not foreign, but the tenderness in them is strange. You have known her touch before, but not like this. “We want to court you. Properly. We spoke, and we- we both want…you.”

And you are floating, gone from this world, so fucking overjoyed because it happened. What you have wanted for weeks, what you have know, what you have doubted.

You feel otherworldly, still out of breath, oxygen deprived. You would kiss them forever, die in them, but you couldn’t risk them getting hurt.

You feel like Eywa has given you something good, like your bad luck has ended- and you have never been more grateful than now.

Neytiri grabs your biceps, squeezes once, almost as if to say ‘yes, this is real’, before her hands come to your wrist. Wrap around, move you like a rag doll to hang around the back of your neck.

You can see Jake stand behind her, closer enough to touch his chest when you extend your fingers, just the fingertips, not enough, too much, overwhelming.

“I feel like there is poison in me,” you confess, high off the moment, off of them.

Neytiri places a kiss on the curve of your jaw.

“Let me kiss it out,” she whispers against your skin. “Let us.”

—-

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

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thebiggerbear · 9 months

Text

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Anael Prompt Response

Summary: Anael is not happy that you've agreed to help the Winchesters with their far-fetched plan to destroy Chuck via Jack. She reluctantly accompanies you to the Bunker and this sets events in motion that prompt a conversation between you and Dean on just why the angel is so important to you.

Pairing: Anael x Female!Reader; Anael x Huntress!Female!Reader; past-ish Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I really wanted to play with this sort of triangle dynamic that popped up while I was writing. This is still an Anael x Reader one shot/prompt response but Dean's my boy and I really loved the backstory that developed between him and the reader which then led to Anael. Hope it all came together okay.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

There will be a note at the end.

Warnings: guns; implied threats of violence/killing; mentions of sex; torture; death; angst

Word Count: 10k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Anael Taglist: @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ SDV Alex version

You glanced to your right and rolled your eyes when you saw the angel who was currently sitting in your passenger seat, still fuming. You turned back to the road and gently tapped the steering wheel, wondering what you could say to get her to let this go. In the end, you decided to just be direct.

“Are you still upset about this?”

“Are you still going through with this ridiculous plan?” She snapped.

You bit your lip to keep from sighing in aggravation like you wanted to. You knew if she heard you do that, she’d never let up. “It’s not a bad plan…”

“Oh, yeah. Not a bad plan. Just have God’s sister trap him in the Winchesters’ basement. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to wait for the weapon that will kill him to arrive.”

You nearly winced at her biting sarcasm. She had a point; this wasn’t the best plan and it was definitely a long shot but it was all any of you had. Sam and Dean had asked for your help and you were determined to give it to them, no matter what might happen. They always had your back when you needed it. You were going to return the favor — pissed off angel alongside you or not. Not to mention if this didn’t succeed then the world was literally going to be over. You all had to try.

“Look, it’s not exactly the most…sound plan but it’s the best we’ve got. We have to do something, Ana. If we don’t, then it’s lights out. That’s it.”

“We,” she scoffed, turning to glare out the window with her arms crossed.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel at the same time your jaw clenched. “Don’t do that.”

She turned back to you. “Are you really going to pretend that he doesn’t have something to do with this suicidal decision you’ve made?”

You kept your eyes focused on the road. “He does.” After her huff, you added unapologetically, “He will always matter to me. Even if the world wasn’t on the line, I would still be there if he asked me. He would do the same for me. That’s how it’s always going to be between us.”

A moment of tense silence passed before she spit at you, “Then you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.” She looked out the window again and you turned up the music, pressing your foot further down on the gas. The sooner you got to your destination the better.

You opened up the bunker door, allowing Ana to walk inside first. She hadn’t said another word to you for the rest of the car ride (something unusual for her), and barely even looked at you. You knew she was furious, at everything from this plan to what you’d said earlier, but it couldn’t be helped.

When you followed her, shutting the door behind you, and both of you came to a stop at the railing, glancing down, you didn’t know what you had expected to see. It certainly hadn’t been Jack Kline standing in the map room, staring up at you, with a hand raised. “Hello.”

You and Ana briefly glanced at each other and you gave the boy a nod. “Uh, hey Jack. Sam and Dean here?”

He shook his head. “They had a last minute case come up. Something about an old friend asking for help, I think.”

“Ironic,” Ana quipped.

Jack furrowed his brows at her, not understanding her meaning, while you shot her a look. Of course, she just smirked at you in response and you could feel your body tensing in the same aggravation you’d felt in the car. “Is Cas here?” You asked instead.

Jack went to speak when you heard, “I’m here,” before a familiar dark-haired man walked into the room. It had been a while since you’d seen him but he still looked the same. He was still wearing the trenchcoat and the suit, no matter how many times Dean tried to get him to change up his wardrobe.

“Hey, Cas.”

He gave you a nod of greeting before turning a small relieved smile on Ana. “Anael, you’ve decided to help us in this fight after all.”

“Don’t get too excited, Castiel. I’m only here because it turns out she’s just as smart as the Winchesters.” She gestured towards you.

You gritted your teeth. “Ana…”

She gave you that smile she always gave you when she knew she was getting on your last nerve.

Cas glanced back and forth between you, a sudden realization of something beginning to dawn on his features. Jack still looked somewhat confused but also curious.

You cleared your throat. “So, any idea when the boys will be back?”

“Soon. I believe they just wrapped up their case and they’re headed back. They should be here by nightfall,” Cas supplied.

You gave him a wan smile as he appeared to study you intently. “Well, I’m starved. Got any food in that big kitchen of yours?”

“We have a lot of food,” Jack offered, trying to be helpful. “Sam went shopping the other day.”

“Great,” you responded with a little too much enthusiasm. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” You ignored Ana watching you in disapproval and Cas’ penetrative gaze as you descended the steps and followed Jack to said kitchen. Let Ana deal with whatever thoughts Cas might put voice to — you’d had enough angel judgment for one day.

You and Jack were just putting the finishing touches on shepherd’s pie (the only thing you knew how to make outside of eggs and grilled cheese if you were being honest) when Sam and Dean returned home.

You had spent most of the day avoiding Cas and thankfully, when Ana joined you in the kitchen, she chose to relegate any commentary she made to your cooking skills (or lack thereof) alone. There was tension thick in the air but whether it had to do with what was going on in the background, Ana’s animosity towards you, or a mixture of both, you had no idea. Cas had eventually strode into the room, curious and happy to watch you teach Jack how to make the one dish your Grams had taught you to make. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile when Jack asked you why it was called shepherd’s pie if the recipe didn’t come from any shepherds. Despite his questions, Jack seemed to be enjoying himself, learning something new and taking his mind off of what was coming. You felt badly for the kid; he was going to sacrifice himself to save the world. You couldn’t even imagine the weight of that burden on his young shoulders, Nephilim or not. So you were happy to provide a little distraction for him as well as yourself.

“Cas? Jack?” You heard Sam call.

“We’re back,” Dean added.

Cas was immediately on his feet, looking towards Ana and then you, before hurrying out of the room. You had to wonder what that was all about. It wasn’t as if the brothers weren’t expecting you. Plus, you were pretty sure Cas must have texted or called them to give them a heads up that you were here.

Ana turned back to you, her jaw tight and giving you a look. You rolled your eyes and helped Jack get out a stack of plates to set the table with. When you were done, you noticed Ana had stood up and moved away from the two of you, creating distance. Your own jaw clenched when you saw it. Why did she have to be so difficult sometimes?

“No plate for you?” You threw at her, knowing very well she wasn’t going to eat since she didn’t need to.

“Not just yet.”

Your brow creased in confusion. What was that response?

You didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because Dean and Sam rushed into the room, with Cas right behind them.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jo?” Dean boomed, heading right for Ana and carrying an angel blade.

“Dean,” Cas called, trying to get in front of him.

You watched as Ana raised her hand and sent both Winchesters flying backward, knocking them on their asses, and more importantly, the blade out of Dean’s hand.

“Anael,” Cas warned.

“I’m just supposed to allow them to kill me, Castiel? I don’t think so.”

You were torn. You wanted to rush over to the boys, make sure they were alright, but another part of you was telling you that you needed to get closer to Ana. What if she was right and Dean had really meant to kill her just then?

Both Winchesters were already up, Dean glaring at Ana. “You almost got us killed! Sending us to Hell on that wild goose chase! Hell, you almost got Cas killed!”

“He had to go to The Empty to ask Ruby where the Occultem was!” Sam added, thrusting a finger at her. “He almost didn’t make it back!”

“You’re Jo?” Jack asked, his expression hardening. “I thought your name was Anael.”

Ana didn’t spare him a glance. “That’s my angel name. Sister Jo is my brand, you could say.”

“Occultem?” You whispered, not ever having heard of it before though you tried racking your brains.

Ana flashed you a look, silently telling you she would fill you in later, before resting her eyes on the two men again. “That was a priceless item. You didn’t really expect me to give it up so easily for your little war with God, did you?” Her brown eyes narrowed. “No matter how much better looking than him you might be.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head and turned onto Dean who still hadn’t noticed your presence yet. He was glaring straight at Ana and you noticed the blade was back in his hand. When had you missed him picking it back up?

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said in an all-too familiar menacing tone, before he began moving forward again, Sam right behind him with his own angel blade. Cas tried to put up a placating hand but he was ignored. Jack watched as it all happened, glowering in Ana’s direction now, not making a move to stop his dads. Your brain shut off and before you knew it, you were in front of Ana, gun raised.

Dean stopped short, his eyes slightly widening as he finally saw you. Sam’s did, too. You were sure they highly doubted you would be on opposite sides over an angel, with a gun pointed at them no less.

“Put the blades down,” you ordered.

You watched as Dean’s green eyes briefly softened upon hearing you speak but then hardened again when he realized you meant business. Something was now layering his expression that looked an awful lot like betrayal. “You’re protecting her?” He asked in disbelief. “What the hell, Y/N?”

You could feel Ana right behind you, her energy filling the air. She was charged up and you felt a familiar static electricity feeling at your back. You wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes were doing their usual glowing trick right about now.

“This is what I was trying to tell you before you two charged in here.” Cas stood next to Dean, looking at him and Sam.

“Tell us what?” Dean demanded.

“She’s with me.” All three glanced over at you, Cas giving a subtle nod as he dropped his gaze. Sam wasn’t sure what to make of it but you noticed him starting to lower the blade in his hand. Dean kept glaring between you and Ana over your shoulder. Only when Cas urged him with a quiet “Dean”, nodding towards the blade in his hand, did he finally put it down. “You’ve gotta be freaking’ kidding me,” he growled before storming out of the room. Cas briefly glanced over at you before following him. Jack, who now scowled in your direction as well as Ana’s, slowly left the room. You lowered your gun, disappointment starting to swell in your chest. So much for a nice, quiet family dinner then.

Only Sam was left and he looked torn between wanting to follow his family and coming over to give you a hug like he normally would. You made it easy for him. “It’s okay, Sam. I understand. Go.”

He pressed his lips together, giving you a sad look, before he nodded and left the room as well.

You let out a heavy breath and hung your head. The Winchesters were the only family you had left and now…it looked like they were gone, too.

You felt a hand gently lay on your shoulder, the electric charge from before gone, and you slowly lifted your head. “We should go,” you whispered after a minute. Ana let you go and you turned to throw on your jacket, sling your bag over your shoulder, and then you led her out of the room. You kept your gun handy in case it wasn’t just a straight pass to the stairs. Thankfully, it was and a piece of your heart broke that Dean hadn’t even given you a chance to explain before he’d written you off for good.

You kept your eyes on the road as headlights repeatedly washed over you from passing cars in the opposite lane. It was deathly quiet, you having chosen not to turn on the radio. Your thoughts kept going back to the betrayal you’d seen in Dean’s face when he realized you weren’t going to let him get to the angel standing behind you. While Ana wasn’t Cas, didn’t he understand how things like this worked by now? Even when you’d been together for a period of time, you’d bore witness to his profound bond with Cas playing out repeatedly. You’d seen Cas’ effect on Dean and vice versa, today even.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

You heard Ana’s quiet words that seemed to be laced with a shocking mix of surprise and what sounded like awe. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before when you two fought side by side. “Do what?” You decided you’d rather play dumb than talk about the elephant sitting between you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the red-headed angel giving you a look. “Don’t. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk for me.” She knew what it cost you and how badly it was tearing you up inside. And to think she had been worried about Chuck, the plan, Jack, and even Dean, though for a whole other reason on that last one.

You shrugged. “That’s what we do. It’s what you’ve done for me. Why wouldn’t I?”

You turned in time to see the surprise you’d heard earlier now taking up residence in her expression. It was a fleeting glimpse you caught right before she schooled her features and focused on the highway instead.

You did the same and you finally spoke the question that had been burning your tongue for the last hour into existence. “So, are you going to tell me about the Occultem and why they’re pissed at you enough to want to kill you? I sort of got an idea from earlier but I want to hear it from you.”

You heard a familiar scoff and if you weren’t so torn up inside, you might have smiled. It was nice to hear her annoyance not aimed at you for once this entire day. “They ambushed me at my place of business, threatened me, and then expected me to hand them the Occultem on a silver platter. Just like that. That’s what happened.”

“I think there’s a little more to it than that, Ana.” You glanced over at her. “Start from the beginning.” When she narrowed her eyes in your direction, you spoke before she could. “You owe me that at the very least,” you muttered.

You turned back to the road and you weren’t sure if she saw the pain you were feeling (most likely since she always seemed to be able to see right through you; it was annoying most of the time), but she agreed. “Fine.”

You swallowed down the lump that had formed in your throat at the thought track repeating in your head of “You’re protecting her? What the hell, Y/N?” and the images of Dean’s back as he walked away from you. You were happy to focus on something else and Ana’s voice actually began to soothe you as it filled the car.

You didn’t know how but somehow you knew everything was going to work out, Chuck ending the world or not.

You heard a familiar rumbling outside your motel room door and you quickly glanced in Ana’s direction. She looked up at you from her chair, money in her hands that she had been counting from her last service, and you gave her a nod. You threw your jacket on, keeping the gun in your pocket and easy to reach just in case. “Be careful,” you murmured.

“You first.”

You pressed your lips together and turned back to the door. You took a deep breath before you opened it and stepped out, seeing Dean shutting the car door and meeting your eyes. He didn’t appear to be armed and he was alone as he’d claimed he would be when he called you earlier, asking where you were so you two could talk. You weren’t one hundred percent sure it wasn’t a trap, which you absolutely hated thinking, but after Ana told you what she’d done to them and their reaction to her earlier…well, you could see why they weren’t exactly thrilled with her. And if they didn’t try to hurt her, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t do a blood sigil and banish her to someplace far away from you. You were on high alert for any possibility.

“Hey,” he gruffed out.

“Hey.” You shut the door behind you and stuffed your hands in your pockets.

You didn’t see any traces of the betrayal or hurt or anger that you’d seen earlier so that was a good sign. His green eyes were no longer hard when they focused on you. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“I can’t. Have to stay close.” You gestured back to the room. It was something Ana had asked you to do when you went over possible contingencies after Dean’s call but she hadn’t needed to; you already planned to stay within running distance if you needed to get back right away.

Dean’s jaw clenched when he looked towards the room. “So, she’s got you on a short leash, huh?”

You huffed a snort, shaking your head. “Goodbye, Dean.” You began to turn back to the room, thinking this had been a colossal waste of time which just broke your heart further.

“Y/N, wait! I— I’m sorry.”

You spun back around to face him, glaring.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you bit out.

Dean licked his lips and momentarily moved his gaze around until he settled on something to his left. “What about over there? Is that close enough?”

You glanced where he was inclining his head towards. Across the parking lot sat what looked to be a makeshift pergola gazebo or something they’d tried to make into one anyway. A wooden picnic table sat under it and there were some lights haphazardly hung on the edges up top, snaking around the thin posts. You gave him a nod of agreement, it was private enough but still kept you close.

You waited for him to start walking and as you followed, you glanced around, making sure no one was trying to sneak their way up to your door or that there were any warning signs of an impending ambush. “Looks clear,” you mentally prayed to Ana. “But keep your guard up.” For a moment, you wished you also had the angelic super hearing she had or the ability to tune into Angel Radio to be able to hear her back.

Dean took a seat on the table and you did the same, keeping some distance between you. He noticed it and his jaw clenched again. “Really? You’re that pissed at me?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you thought it over, and then you moved slightly closer.

He let out a snort. “Didn’t realize that much had changed between us.”

You stared out over the highway. “It did.”

Dean studied you for a moment and then followed suit. “Yeah, well, probably for the best.”

You could feel a familiar stinging in the corner of your eyes. Dean always had the ability of using words to hit you where it hurt the most. “Probably.”

There was a moment of tense silence between you before he spoke again. “Cas mentioned things might be different now…for you.”

You shrugged but didn’t respond. At this point, you just wanted him to spit out what he came to say and leave. Which was indeed different from how you usually felt about getting alone time with him, but he was being a dick.

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he turned to look at you. “I’m not trying to be a dick, Y/N. I’m really not. But all this time and you never told me once that you had an angel riding shotgun with you? The same angel who tricked us and took Lucifer’s side, and then tricked us again and almost got us all killed?”

You looked over at him with a scoff. “When was I supposed to tell you, Dean? In between Chuck trying to end the world and you helping with Jack’s powering up regimen so he can take him down? Or during Michael’s mindwalk inside your head? When was I supposed to tell you? We never talk anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he argued.

You got to your feet, glaring at him. “Yes, it is! The only time I hear from you is when you need something.” You ignored Dean’s angry expression and continued. “When you need help for a case, information, whatever it is. That is the only time I hear from you!”

“Yeah, well, it’s a two-way street. When was the last time you called just to check in? Tell us how you’re doing? When?”

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “You told me we were done, Dean! Right after Michael possessed you the first time. You remember that?”

Now he was on his feet, too, scowling at you. “Me saying we were done didn’t mean we were out of each other’s lives forever! If I didn’t call you about hunts or Sam didn’t call you to ask you to keep an eye out for something wherever you were, we wouldn’t even know you were still alive!”

That last word made you wince. You tried to hide it but Dean saw it. He let out a breath and the next time he spoke, he was no longer yelling. “You can blame me all you want, Y/N, but you didn’t tell Sam, either.”

“There was nothing to tell,” you mumbled, sitting back down on the table, refusing to look at him.

He gave you a look before sitting back down next to you, closer than before. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight. I want to clear the air. You’ve never pulled a gun on me before.”

You arched your brows over at him. You had done it quite a few times over the years, when he was a demon being the most recent.

“Not on me,” he clarified.

You turned back to the road but didn’t say a word.

He laid a gentle hand on your knee. “I want us to be good, Y/N. You’re family…and you’re still important to me.”

You briefly closed your eyes in pain. It had always been a tough balancing act, straddling the line of family and you and Dean being something more to one another. Even before you got together and made it official. Even back when you were teenagers. But ever since he put an end to your relationship, it had become almost impossible for you to continue doing. But he was right…you both were still family, and you didn’t want him shut out of your life. You had been broken-hearted at the thought of it not a mere hour ago before he’d called.

You covered his hand with yours. “I know. You’re still important to me, too, and you’re right, we’re family.”

Dean's eyes were transfixed on your hands until he glanced up at you, his eyes softer than before.

You squeezed his hand. “We’re good.” You gave him a nod and let him go, waiting a moment before you added, “As long as you leave Ana alone.”

He shot you a look but you never glanced away. He needed to know you meant it.

Dean sighed, studying you. “For now,” he agreed.

“Dean, that’s—”

“That’s all you’re getting out of me.” He rubbed his thumb over your knee. “Unless you tell me what happened.”

You dropped your gaze to your lap. “Why do you want to know about that? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Because,” Your eyes lifted to his, hearing the breaks in his voice. “I need to know why Cas sees the claim she has on your soul.”

Crap. You should have known from how Cas was studying you since you’d set foot in the Bunker. “It’s not what you think,” you started.

“Then what is it? Because it looks to me like she tricked you into selling your soul to her.”

You moved your knee from under his hand and pulled away. “That’s not what happened. She didn’t trick me.”

“Then what did happen?” He cupped your cheeks and forced you to look at him. “Y/N, talk to me,” he implored. “I need to know what’s going on.”

You thought it over for a moment, realizing you really didn��t have a way around this, now that Dean knew. And truthfully, you didn’t really want one, though you still felt the heavy weight of shame wrapped around you, something you knew would be even heavier by the time you finished explaining.

You grabbed his hand and turned to kiss his wrist before getting to your feet. Dean let you go and you took a few steps away, your arms crossed and your back to him, taking a deep breath. “Do you remember the witch who killed my family?”

“Yeah, back in Phoenix. Dad tried to track her down after but couldn’t. Why?”

You pressed your lips together. “I found her.” You didn’t need to turn around to know Dean was frozen in shock. “I came across her during another case.”

Dean was in front of you before you could blink. “Please tell me you didn’t take her on alone.”

You stared at him, saying nothing.

“Dammit, Y/N! You should have called us! What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking the bitch had killed my family and I wanted her dead.”

He shook his head, angry at you as you knew he would be. “But you don’t go it alone! We’ve talked about this. Never alone!”

“Yeah, I know and you’re right, alright? But I’m standing here in front of you now so do you want me to finish the story or not?” You snapped.

His jaw clenched and he glared at you but remained quiet.

You let out an aggravated breath. “I didn’t have time to call anyone else. I didn’t want her to escape and be in the wind again so the hunter I was with at the time, Carrie, she and I went after her.” Dean briefly closed his eyes but kept his gaze on you. “She had a pack of werewolves she was working with and she set them on me. I killed a few but there were too many. They ripped me apart. Carrie, too.” You felt a lump begin to form in your throat at the thought of the hunter you’d gotten killed but you swallowed it back down. “They were about to finish me off when two other hunters showed up. Carrie thought we might be going into a trap so she called them while I was gearing up. There were still too many werewolves but they managed to get us out of there. They drove us straight to this church in the next town where a faith healer had set up shop. The rumor going around the hunter community at that time was that this healer might actually be an angel, one of the fallen.” Your eyes began to well up. “Carrie didn’t make it.”

Dean briefly dropped his gaze down to the ground.

“I almost didn’t and honestly, I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Ana. She healed me.” You nearly winced thinking about the next part you would have to tell him. “Once I was up and moving around again, I didn’t want the witch to disappear and she already had a hell of a head start so I asked Rick, one of the hunters that helped us, if he knew of a crossroads in town.”

You saw Dean’s lips part in shock and then his eyes hardened. “Are you kidding me? After everything Sam and I told you, after everything you saw happen with my deal, you still—”

“You didn’t hear the screams my sister made when she was dying, Dean!” He pressed his lips into a thin line but didn’t say anything to that. How could he? Sure, he’d seen people die in some of the worst ways imaginable since becoming a hunter, but he also saw the nightmares you had for years afterwards. They all had.

Dean had held you as you shook in terror, crying into his neck as he tried to assure you that you were safe. There were many nights your cries had woken Sam up as well and he’d slip into Dean’s bed, laying his head on your back and hugging you from behind while you sobbed and his brother whispered reassurances to you. If John was around when the nightmares happened, he’d keep quiet while his sons comforted you but the next morning, he’d let you pick the music you wanted to hear and would offer you to ride shotgun if you wanted. You would choose Dean’s favorite Led Zeppelin tape every time and sit in the back, opting to let Sam take the front. Dean would hold your hand and rub tender circles into your skin while you stared out the back window of the Impala until you would get sleepy and rest your head on his shoulder. Dean, Sam, John — none of them could keep the nightmares away, but they made you feel safe again after you’d lost your family. They became your family and John trained you to become a hunter just like his boys.

Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. “She was only six years old!” You had to watch as the witch had liquefied her insides, causing as much pain and torment as possible. You’d not only heard her painful screams but the terrified yells of your mother as she also witnessed your sister’s death before the witch moved onto your older brother. John got there in time to save you, the last one left; you’d had to watch and hear them all die — your parents, your siblings — helpless to do anything since you were magically bound. “I would have done anything to get that bitch and make sure she never hurt anyone else ever again.”

Dean’s fist clenched at his side but he nodded. He understood; you knew he did.

“As it turns out, I didn’t get that far. Ana overheard our conversation. Rick was trying to talk me out of it but I was insistent. She pulled me to the side and told me that if I was going to throw my life away to go after the hag, then she had a one-time offer for me. She offered me the same deal a crossroads demon would have: my soul for the witch. But instead of ten years, there would be no ticking clock over my head, no monsters from Hell would come to drag me down to the pit, and once I died, whenever that would be, my soul would belong to her and her alone. No Heaven, no Hell, just hers, to do with as she wished.”

“Y/N,” Dean let out in a broken whisper. You could see this was killing him but you had to finish explaining, make him understand. As ashamed as you were, you still wanted him to know the truth.

“I took it, Dean.”

A tear dropped down his cheek and you fought every impulse you had to reach over and wipe it away.

“And she kept her part of the bargain. She packed up and traveled with us to where the witch was hiding out. We caught them off guard. Rick and Layla finished off the rest of the werewolf pack and Ana stayed with me. The witch used some sort of spell to banish Ana and then it was just me and her.” You knew this next part was going to hurt him but you had to say it. “She killed me, Dean.”

He stared at you in horror.

“The same way she killed my family. I felt everything they did.” You were looking through Dean now, awash in memories. “You see, she recognized me and she decided to finish me off the same way she did them. I heard her laughing in the background while she... The pain alone…” You came back to yourself with a jolt, realizing you were no longer in that place, writhing in agony on the floor as your insides burned and turned to liquid, blood pouring from your eyes, nose, and mouth as you screamed and screamed. “The next thing I remember, Ana was crouching over me. She had healed my body and put my soul back inside.” You whispered the last part in awe. That part of the story still inspired wonder for you, even now.

“She had overpowered the witch somehow when she was able to get back to us. Ana left her for me to deal with and deal with her, I did.” You clenched and unclenched your jaw at the memory of the bitch’s screams of agony before you finished her off. You made sure she felt everything your family did, everything you had, and Ana had been more than willing to help you.

“You died?” Dean choked out.

You glanced up at him and noticed the devastation in his expression, his eyes still wet. “For only a few minutes,” you tried to reassure him. He didn’t need to know that it had been a little longer than that. You could see how torn up he was already now that he knew what happened to you. “The witch’s spell wasn’t as effective as an angel banishing sigil so Ana was able to come back pretty quickly.”

You watched as he reached for you, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him. His lips were on yours before you could react and you let him kiss you, feeling his desperation, knowing he was reassuring himself that you were okay, here in his arms, alive. When he finally broke away from you, he gently grasped your arms and laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. “I should’ve never let you go,” he whispered. “I was only trying to keep you safe, I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “Dean, what are you talking about?”

He sighed and pressed a tender kiss to your nose before lifting his head. “When Michael let me go the first time, I was scared he was going to come after everybody I cared about so I…” You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I ended it between us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Why would you do that? I could have helped you track him down!”

“Because I wanted you safe!” He yelled in exasperation. “I didn’t know what Michael was gonna do, okay? I didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire!”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me!” You argued.

“Yeah, I do, because I love you, goddammit!” He looked just as surprised as you felt by his accidental admission.

His words hit you like a semi on a slippery freeway. A part of you wanted to respond and the other part…the other part wanted to skip right past it as if it had never been said. Especially when you thought back to the heartbreak you’d felt when he coldly told you that you were done and he needed some space, implying you needed to leave the Bunker asap. No explanation, no goodbye, just…done.

The lump was back in your throat again, forcing you to swallow it back down. “Yeah, well, that still doesn’t give you the right to do what you did.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him, back towards the motel, so he wouldn’t see the tears building in your eyes at his declaration that you would have given anything to hear more than a year ago. You saw the Impala still parked where Dean had left it and you remembered it was facing your room and who was in that room. Too little, too late now.

You felt Dean’s fingers gently grip your chin and turn your head back towards him. His green eyes were glistening, full of a deep sadness you’d only seen before when he talked about his mom and their family back in the day or when he’d finally managed to tell you about his time with Lisa and Ben. “And it didn’t keep you all that safe, did it?” The corners of his lips tipped up in a remorseful smile.

You watched him for a moment and then lifted up on your toes, gripping his face to kiss him. You put everything you felt for him into it, not wanting him to ever doubt just how much of a hold he still had on your heart. When you pulled back, you looked into his eyes and spoke truly. “I love you, Dean. I’m always going to love you. You’re the love of my life.” His eyes softened at your words. “But things are different now. I’m different. And things will never be as they were before.” You ran your thumb tenderly over his lips before stepping back, putting more distance between you.

You saw as he tried to recover from what you’d said, nodding and turning from you to run a hand down his face, effectively wiping away the wetness from his stubbled cheeks. You heard a quiet sniffle and gave him a moment.

“And, uh,” You glanced up at him. “What about your soul? Cas said you still have her mark. Are you still stuck in some deal?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not technically. It’s there as more of a failsafe.”

“Failsafe?”

“In case something happens to me, then my soul goes to her. Just like it did the last time.”

“And what if something happens to her?”

You frowned, not liking that possibility being voiced, especially given the current circumstances. Plus, you wouldn’t put it past Dean to be thinking over options to free you. “Then the mark disappears. But then it’s anybody’s game.”

“But you’d be free,” he insisted.

Your jaw clenched and you lifted your chin defiantly. You knew it; you knew Dean and the way he thought way too well. You’d been trained together and hunted together for years, after all. “I don’t want to be free. Not the way you’re implying.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want to be free?”

“You have Cas. You should understand.”

“Cas doesn’t own my soul, Y/N. That’s completely different.”

“Is it?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d say it is.”

He obviously didn’t get your meaning, or he was trying hard not to. You decided to let it go. “We may not have the profound bond that you and Cas do, but what we have works for us. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He scrubbed at his jaw, staring at you, before closing the distance between you again. This time you expected it when he kissed you and you held onto his jacket, kissing him back. You hadn’t lied before; he was the love of your life, deep within your heart, and he always would be. “If you ever want out of this, you call me,” he whispered.

You nodded, closing your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you again. You knew you wouldn’t be making that call but you knew he would refuse to let you go unless you gave him that reassurance. He rubbed his nose along yours and you nearly smiled at the memory it produced from when you two used to make out as teenagers.

“What about the plan for Chuck? And Amara? Do you still want my help with that?”

“No, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I want you as far from here as you can get. Just in case things go South.”

You stared up at him sadly. “Dean, I know you and Ana have history but she’s only there to protect me. We could help.”

“That’s not it. If this plan doesn’t work, with Jack, then we’re all screwed.”

You tugged at his jacket with your hands. “Which is why you can use all the help you can get.”

“Y/N, you can’t help on this one.” You were about to protest when he spoke again. “Not this time.”

“Then why did you call me?”

He gave you a sad smile and you felt his arms tighten around you. ‘Why do you think?”

Memories flashed through the forefront of your mind:

…“Blaze of Glory” by Bon Jovi playing in the background of the Impala and Dean singing it into your ear as you fell asleep on his shoulder in the backseat,

…Conversations with him and Sam about how you all would like to go out fighting if you had a choice on how you’d die as a hunter,

…Dean holding your bare body to his in the bed of a motel room that he’d been able to secure after a few successful games of Pool while John was on a hunt, with Sam in the next room and you two having just lost your virginities to each other, murmuring how he wanted to keep you with him always, believing that you’d fallen asleep,

…Him cuddling up to you in the Dean Cave during a western you’d seen a thousand times (because it was one of his favorites) and him telling you that he and Sam would be Butch and Sundance but you would be Etta Place which would cause you to frown and him to then grumble that you could be his Sundance which would earn him a kiss on the cheek while Sam rolled his eyes.

You knew right then that he didn’t fully believe Billie’s plan would work, though he hoped it would. Which meant you might never see him again. Because there was no way Chuck wouldn’t be pissed at the attempt and come right after him and Sam.

Your vision began to blur with the building tears and you gave him your own sad smile. “And now you’re sending me away? Again? That’s not how it’s supposed to go. Remember?”

He wiped your cheeks with both thumbs. “You said it yourself, sweetheart, things are different now. Besides, Sam and I talked it over before I came out here. He agrees. We both want you somewhere safe.”

“So you’re making me Etta Place again?” You choked out.

“Baby,” A tear made its way down his cheek. “You were never supposed to be anyone else.”

You sobbed out a laugh and hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go. “You could come with us. You and Sam and Cas and Jack. You could leave this all behind and come with us. Just as long as you don’t pick Bolivia.”

He chuckled into your ear. “I wish I could, sweetheart. Chuck would find us wherever we tried to go. Billie’s plan is the best we’ve got. We’re going to see it through. And the only way I can do that,” He pulled back from you and held onto your arms, rubbing soothing circles into them with his thumbs. “Is if I know you’re far away from here. She’s another dick angel in my book and I don’t trust her, but if she’ll keep you safe, then that’s all I care about right now.”

You nodded and sniffled. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

He framed your face with his hands and shook his head.

More tears spilled down your cheeks. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Always have,” He pulled you into an embrace and kissed the side of your head. “Always will.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that for but he held you until the tears finally stopped flowing. You were ashamed at how easily you had been willing to dismiss him from your life after he had broken your heart, after he’d threatened Ana, and now you might never see him again. Your heart literally felt torn in two. A part of you wanted to go with him, no matter how he or Ana might protest, no matter if you ended up dying, but the other part wanted to give him what he asked for. So he could have peace of mind and be able to focus on the plan if for nothing else.

You had loved Dean Winchester since you were ten years old. You knew in that moment, just as you did back then and all of the time between, that you would love him for the rest of your life, however long that might be. He would always have a piece of your heart, even if your soul belonged to somebody else.

You watched as Dean backed Baby out of her spot in front of your room and you gave him a wave. He’d wiped away your tears, kissed you goodbye one last time, and told you to haul ass out of Kansas by morning. He’d promised to call you the following evening with an update.

Once he was speeding down the road out of sight, you opened the door, letting out a breath of relief to see Ana still sitting where you’d left her. You knew Dean didn’t mean her any harm at the moment, but you weren’t sure just how much of your goodbye with Dean she’d actually heard. Probably everything, if her stare was anything to go by.

“I take it you heard everything?”

“I did.” She got to her feet, making her way over to you. “So you still love him, just as I said earlier which you completely denied.”

You gave her a look. “Ana, if you heard everything then you know—”

“I do.” Her eyes studied your face, most likely seeing the puffiness underneath your bloodshot eyes from crying so much. She reached out a hand and cupped your cheek, tenderly stroking it with her thumb. “I’ll give Castiel one thing, human love is beyond puzzling. I certainly didn’t need a magic 8 ball to know how that little convo was going to go. Despite how much Dean Winchester has hurt you, I was pretty sure for a moment there you were going to get another room and I was going to have to listen to the sounds of two primates mating in the wild.”

You yanked your face away and glared at her. “Stop it, Ana.” You made your way to the bed, roughly unzipping your bag and tossing everything of yours inside. “Dean said we should get out of Kansas as soon as possible. He doesn’t know when the next part of Billie’s plan is kicking off or when Amara is going to show up with Chuck, so it might not be safe to spend the night. We should keep moving.” You felt her hand on your shoulder and you let out an irritated sigh before turning to scowl at her. “What?”

She stared at you for a moment before leaning down to brush her lips over yours. You froze, unsure of what to do. Ana had never done something like this before and even stranger, you could feel yourself responding to it. Just like you had with Dean, though it was different, softer, and lit up a separate part of you inside. You felt yourself attempting to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, leaving you feeling dazed, yearning, guilty, and frustrated — a confusing swirl of emotions.

She smirked down at you, pleased with your reaction and trailed a gentle finger over your lips. “We should be fine here for the night. We can leave in the morning when you’ve gotten some sleep so you can drive. I’ll keep watch.” She turned and walked away, still smirking, and left you watching after her in complete shock.

You shook it off the best you could and went about getting the things you would need for the night out of your bag. Ana was kissing you now? That was new. Could today get any more complicated?

You were submerged in darkness, nothing but pure black everywhere you looked. The last thing you knew you were screaming out in agony, feeling infinite pain, mentally begging for death. Then, nothing. You were just floating along in…nothing.

“Come to me.”

You heard the sweetest voice you had ever heard, calling out to you, and you wanted to go to it but you weren’t sure how. When you attempted to move, you couldn’t. You were frozen in a sea of nothing.

“Y/N,” the voice called. “Come to me now.” As soothing as that voice had been, you could hear the clear command at the end. You wanted to go but how?

Suddenly, a shaft of bright blue-white light appeared right in front of you. “Let’s go,” the voice called, sounding much closer and it vibrated off of the blackness surrounding you. The light reached out to you and you somehow reached back. You liked the light, trusted it, and it felt warm when it touched you. Warmth that reminded you of your grandmother’s homemade apple pie fresh out of the oven, Dean and Sam snuggled up against you in the motel rooms you’d stayed in often as children, your mother’s smile as you and your siblings played on the swingset in the backyard, the blanket your father wrapped around you when you were home sick from school, the feeling of Dean’s hand in yours — pure warmth. You felt completely safe and whole, as if nothing bad or painful could get at you here, not while the light was touching you.

“There.” The light pulled you further into it and it was so blindingly beautiful that you felt the urge to cry at the same time that you wanted to smile. “Come to me.” At this final command, you pushed into the light at the same time it pulled you forward and everything went white.

The next second, you were back in your body, staring up at a familiar red-headed woman though her eyes were glowing the same color light you had been moving towards a mere moment ago. Two little dots of the blue-white light focused on you as the angel’s hands rested on your chest, a golden glow emanating from them.

You blinked and coughed and the lights faded from her eyes as did the glow from her hands. Now very worried looking brown eyes were gazing down at you. “Took you long enough,” she muttered. “How do you feel?”

You coughed again and tried to sit up with her helping you. You suddenly took notice of a familiar face, a face that haunted your dreams every single night, sneering at you, her hands bound by an invisible force, hanging from something unseen. Her lips also appeared to be sealed by that same force. “What…happened?” You rasped out.

“There’s no easy way to say this. You died.”

You turned wide eyes on her. “What? H-How?”

Ana glared over at the witch. “Her.”

You met the witch with your own glare and it all came back to you in a flash: the pain, the torture, the screaming, your family. At that last thought, you slowly got to your feet, Ana helping to steady you. “What’s holding her?”

She smirked over at the old hag. “Me.”

Something occurred to you just then. “Why did you bring me back? You had my soul. You could’ve just walked away with it. No one would’ve been the wiser. So why bring me back?” You were very well aware of how this angel operated. You had been brought to the forefront of her business after all, bleeding and torn up on death’s door. Granted, she hadn’t charged you for saving your life but you weren’t ignorant to the donations she usually collected for her services.

Her jaw tightened and you could tell she was thinking it over before she turned to answer you. “I’m nothing if not an excellent businesswoman. A deal’s a deal. The witch was alive and you weren’t. That wasn’t the terms of our agreement so I brought you back. I can’t have word getting around that I don’t hold up my end of the deal. It’s not good for business.”

You weren’t quite sure you believed her. Not only because she was an angel (and an angel that charged people money to heal them) but because somehow you just knew that hadn’t been the reason she’d done it. But that was a problem for later. Now, your focus was on the witch. “So, are you going to let her go so I can finally finish her off?”

“Hmm, I don’t really think that’s a good idea, do you? Last time you went toe to toe with her, you died.”

“You weren’t here then as my backup generator. Now, you are.”

“Oh, really, Rocky? That’s what you think I am? A defibrillator? Maybe I should let her go and let you die again. And this time, I won’t bring you back. You would make a nice addition to my collection of beautiful things stored in my Louis Vuitton. You know, they say diamonds are forever but it’s really all about souls this year.”

You both heard the witch trying to yell something but unable due to her invisible gag. “Okay, seriously, we can argue later. Let her go, Ana, I’ve got this.” You picked up the blade that had been thrust out of your hand before the pain and screaming started, and tensed in preparation.

The angel turned to you with brows drawn together. “Ana?”

“Jo then. Now, come on, let’s do this.” You were more than ready to take this bitch down.

“No. I like the sound of Ana. It’s better.”

You glanced at her in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Oh. Right.” She went to wave her hand in the witch’s direction when she stopped. “Actually, may I make a suggestion for this little revenge fantasy of yours?”

You shot her a look.

“I think you’ll like it.” She gave you a wicked smirk and then leaned in to whisper in your ear. A smirk started to appear on your own face the more she talked. She had been right. You liked her suggestion. It was going to take you hours to finish the witch and since you had just been brought back to life, fully healed, you had more than enough energy to pull it off.

Bright flashes happened and you could hear the witch’s muffled screams as you carved into her and Ana then healed her. More bright flashes and you could see Ana’s devious smirk as she began to neutralize her angel-style but stopped right before it took. Another bright flash and you glared into the witch’s eyes as you stabbed her, gritting out, “That was for my sister.” As you’d anticipated after agreeing to Ana’s suggestion, it took both of you hours to torture and kill the witch. Ana had liquified her insides multiple times throughout before bringing her back from the brink. Rick and Layla had left long ago, satisfied that they had gotten payback for Carrie with the werewolves they took out and not wanting to be a part of what you and Ana were doing to the witch. Another bright flash and the witch’s lips unsealed with a scream that sounded an awful lot like your sister’s that then turned into booming thunder.

You woke with a gasp and grabbed your gun that always had a few rounds of witch-killing bullets loaded, sitting straight up and glancing around the dark room, aiming for anything that might move. Your eyes came to a stop on Ana, sitting in the same chair as before, her eyes glowing that familiar bluish-white light. You lowered your gun in relief. To anyone else, this very picture might scare them but to you it was soothing and made you feel safe; it reminded you of when she’d brought you back and how it felt before you were back in your body completely.

The glowing light suddenly disappeared and the dark reigned once more. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “It’s just a thunderstorm.” Almost as if to solidify her explanation, a loud clap of thunder sounded overhead. “No one’s here but me.”

You nodded and when the room lit up with a lightning flash, you could see she was right. You placed your gun back underneath your pillow and hugged your knees to your chest. “I had that dream again.”

Ana stopped counting her money and glanced up at you. You always marveled at her ability to see in complete darkness, to the point that she could do things like that without any light whatsoever. “The witch one?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“From when you were younger or from when she killed you?”

“When I died. I think telling Dean maybe got me thinking about it again so that’s why…” You gestured towards your head. “I was remembering the pain and the screaming…”

You heard the chair lightly scrape across the floor and in the next flash of lightning, you saw her coming over to you. She gently sat on the bed next to you and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until your head was on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there fast enough.”

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. You saved me and then helped me finish her.”

“True.” She ran a tender hand over your hair. “But I wish you didn’t have those memories.” After a moment, she added, “I could take them away if you wanted.” She’d made you this offer before but you had refused it then and you were going to refuse it now.

“No, thanks though. I need those memories to keep me sharp, help keep me alive.”

“I thought that’s what you had me for,” she teased.

You smiled. “My defibrillator?”

Ana scoffed. “I still can’t believe you called me that.”

“You called yourself that. I said you were my backup generator.”

“Same thing.”

You lifted your head and shot her a look. “Hardly.”

She smiled and you couldn’t help but study her. Remembering the kiss earlier, you knew she cared for you more than the average human (any other human really) but you never thought in a million years that she could possibly have feelings…like that. She was an angel and you were only human after all. Didn’t Cas say once that his true form was the size of a Chrysler building and that humans were mere ants to angels? How did the Chrysler building feel anything for an ant?

You remembered seeing Ana’s face for the first time through a haze of pain. She had stared down at you as she started to heal you, her lips parted in shock before they pressed together in determination. You thought back to her insistence that you take her up on her offer of a soul deal to get what you wanted, assuring you that demon deals were a nasty, messy business that you definitely had to read the fine print on before you signed. And the one thing you hadn’t told Dean is that when Ana brought you back after the witch killed you, her mark was no longer on your soul. When you died, your soul had gone to her as per the deal you’d made, but once you were back inside your body, breathing again, your soul was your own. So her whole line of wanting to make sure you both got what you wanted out of the deal had been complete bullshit. Something you didn’t find out until later on, when she reamed you out for almost dying again on another hunt: a dark entity in an abandoned asylum outside of Chicago. By that time, you trusted Ana enough to make another deal with her. If something happened to you, you trusted that she would keep your soul safe until she revived you or otherwise. What that otherwise was you couldn’t be sure, but you trusted her implicitly to look out for you. Something she had been doing ever since you crossed each other’s paths.

Things suddenly became so clear to you, almost as if you had been trying to see out of a foggy window but no matter how much you rubbed at it or turned the defroster on, it never cleared…until now.

Her smile faded slightly when you leaned in and gently brushed your lips against hers, pulling back to see what she would do. Another lightning flash lit up the room and you could see her glancing back and forth between you and your mouth, leaning in slowly. You met her halfway and a light fluttery feeling bloomed in your chest when you connected and this time it was more than just a brush of lips. You turned your body slightly towards her and cupped her cheek, taking control of the kiss. It surprised you a little but it felt like you were kissing someone who was inexperienced. You couldn’t tell if it had to do with you being a woman or a human, and she was holding back either way, or if she had never truly done this before. Regardless, you looked forward to finding out.

She began to mimic your movements and the kiss grew more passionate. You realized that you wanted more of the kiss, more of her. You reached up and began to slowly unbutton her Mulberry silk blouse (as she’d told you so many times before when warning you not to get it dirty if you opened something near her) but her hand covered yours, stopping you.

You broke away from her, your brows drawn together. “What?”

She trailed fingertips from your cheek down to your lips, intently studying you.

“Ana?”

Her eyes met yours. “You need sleep so you can drive in the morning. I said we would be okay staying here tonight, but once morning hits, we need to leave.” You went to protest when she shook her head. “Once we’re far enough away, we’ll have plenty of time for this. But for now, sleep.”

You wanted to argue that Chuck could soon end all life as you knew it so there was no time like the present but this was also new to you. You’d never been with a woman before, never mind an angel. What were the rules? How did it go? Being with Dean, you’d seen some porn in your time so you vaguely had an idea how it went with women, but nothing concrete. You’d only ever been with Dean and a few other guys after all. But an angel inside a female human vessel…and a female human…put point blank, how the hell did that work?

So, you didn’t push and instead, nodded your agreement. Ana got off the bed and you laid back down, settling the sheets over you once more. She took a seat next to you, sitting against the headboard, and began to gently brush your hair back with her hand. You had always wondered why she always seemed to be touching you or caressing you when you two were alone (and she wasn’t miffed at you); now you knew why. It wasn’t long before your eyes started to close and you began to drift off, hoping you wouldn’t go straight back into a nightmare. Thankfully, the thunder seemed to be moving away from your location.

Almost as if she heard your thoughts, Ana murmured, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

You nearly smiled at her words. You never told her this because not only would she have gotten offended but she would’ve denied it to the ground, but most times, you almost felt like you had a guardian angel watching over you. A guardian angel that dressed better than most humans and would kill for a top of the line Hermes handbag (and you meant that literally). Who gave you dirty looks and a hard time most days, but a guardian nonetheless. Now, you weren’t quite sure what she would be to you. You were now glad she had stopped you before. You both had some things to figure out and a discussion should be had whenever you got to where you were going next, but regardless, one thing was for sure: you knew she would keep you safe.

A/N: I know Cas had to stick his hand inside a human's chest to be able to read the marks of an angel on the bones of that human, but I decided to adjust it for fic purposes. I initially was going to do something similar to the handprint but I liked this idea better.

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m-jelly · 8 months

Text

All I need - Chapter 6

@ladycheesington <3

Levi x fem!reader

Future Fic, Romance, Drama & Romance, Falling In Love, mafia, Gangsters, Love, True Love, Fluff, Protective Levi, Possessive Levi, mentions of blood, mentions of hospital, mentions of guns, mentions of violence.

In this chapter: You go shopping for a gift for Levi but as you do that, you meet someone deadly but you stand up to them. You meet Levi later in the day and you both take your relationship further. You go on a fun outing with Levi's family only for it to go back, but the two of you pull through.

Part 7

You glanced at Vincent as you drove together to see he was grinning. “You liked seeing Levi all stroppy, didn’t you?”

“It brings me so much to see him like that. I don’t mean to laugh, but even when he was little, I never saw him pout and whine.” He pulled up into a parking spot at the shopping centre. “This is like seeing a little kid being told no.” He looked over at you. “My brother is so deeply in love with you.”

You felt your heart flutter. “I can feel it. It makes me breathless a lot.” You gripped your dress. “I love him so much and I’m trying hard to show him that I do. I do think I let him down a lot.”

Vincent shook his head. “You’re doing incredible. Levi is so happy.”

You gazed at Vincent with pleading eyes. “Could you help me today? I want to surprise Levi with some gifts, which is why he couldn’t come today.” You released a long sigh. “I know he’ll end up following us because he can’t stay away, but for the short time he’s not.”

Vincent smirked. “I’ve got your back.”

“Thank you.” You slipped out of the car and heard your communicator go off. You looked down to see Levi’s name. You tapped his name. “Levi?”

Levi lovingly called your name. “Are you okay?”

“Do you have me monitored?”

There was a moment of silence indicating you were right. “Would you be mad at me if I said yes?”

You hummed a laugh. “I don’t mind. It’s for my safety, right? You are mafia, so it makes sense.”

His heart fluttered. “Thank you for understanding. So, can I join you?”

You giggled at Levi needing you. “No, Levi. You’re having a day with your dad and mum. You promised that you’d let me do a shopping day to get surprises.”

He let out a long sigh. “I know, but I want to be with you. Why did you take my brother?”

You looked up at Vincent. “I like your brother. He’s cool and nice.”

Vincent put his arm around you. “I got this under control, little bro. Now, stop pouting like a little kid and hang out with dad. You know how desperate Dad has been for a day with you.”

Levi groaned. “Okay. I do miss Dad, but I want my bunny.”

You smiled at Levi. “Grumpy? I’ll be with you soon. I promise. If you’re good, I’ll give you extra kisses and cuddles, okay?”

Levi perked up. “Okay! Love you!”

“Love you too.” You ended the call and smiled at Vincent. “Ready.”

Vincent hummed a laugh. “I give it five minutes before he sends you a message.”

“I find it cute.”

“He’s a sweet boy.” He stopped walking and hummed as he looked around. “Now, where do you want to go first?”

The shopping centre was large and full of neon lights that dazzled the eyes. Holographic images of things for sale and people were all over the place to try and entice you inside. Walls and railings were made of pretty glass that had holograms inside of different colours and patterns, some had animals projected in that would run and play with others. The scent in the air was divine and sweet, this was due to the people running it would inject nice scents into the air. Trees and flowers grew with a wonderful vibrance to them, so it felt like you were walking through an indoor nature park with neon lights.

You flinched at Vincent’s touch on your arm. “S-Sorry, Vincent. I’m just in awe of this place. It’s amazing.”

“I’ll let my mother know.”

You gasped. “Kuchel is behind this?”

He nodded and started walking with you. “That’s right. She runs and organises a lot of shopping places we own. Dad does a lot of communication and deals with other leaders. Levi does a lot, he does bars, clubs, shops, enforcement, protection and catching bad people.”

You gazed at Vincent. “Levi is amazing. So, what do you do?”

“I deal with promotional things and rich people with egos. Dad wants to kill them, but I can handle their egos.”

You whined a little. “Your family is amazing and I’m just…mmm…”

Vincent put his hand on your upper back. “You are bringing love into the family. You’re bringing us all tighter together. Your speciality is love.”

“That’s so sweet of you to say.” You hugged Vincent’s arm. “You’re a good friend.”

“Thank you. I bet if you met Erwin more you’d see him as a good friend.”

You smiled at Vincent. “I have met Erwin and Mike before, but Levi’s keeping me apart from the whole mafia side of things. I understand though. It’s dangerous out there, but I would like to meet his friends more.”

“You should ask him.”

You hummed in thought. “I’ll ask.” You stopped outside a shop and eyed the rings in the window. “Mm, I think he’d like a ring.” You flinched when a through hit you. “Wait, would a ring get in the way of his work?”

Vincent chuckled. “Get him a ring, he’ll love it, trust me.”

You eyed the rings again. “Can we look inside? I don’t see the one yet.”

He led you inside the clean and cosy shop. Normally, most jewellery places make people feel stiff, uncomfortable or that you didn’t belong. There is this air of snobbery in them, but this shop felt so welcoming. It felt good to not be judged at all and there was no pressure at all to pick something or to pay. So, you took your time and looked around the shop until you found the most perfect ring you had ever seen for Levi.

You smiled at the assistant and pointed at the black steel ring. “Could I look at this one please?”

She nodded and got it out for you. “You can program it to link with someone and assign an animal to it, or a little face.”

You nibbled your lip a moment. “Could you link it to me and make me a bunny?”

She giggled. “Of course, and what about your partner?”

You let out a long sigh. “He’s like a wolf.”

Vincent laughed. “Levi is, isn’t he?”

The lady placed the ring into a box and closed it, then she linked it up to a little tablet and started typing. “Okay, I just need you to link your communicator.”

You offered your arm. “All yours.”

She worked fast and linked everything. “There we go. I just need your boyfriend’s communicator information also.”

You nodded and gave it over. “That okay?”

She smiled and took the ring out. “Have a look.”

You watched a little white rabbit hopping around the room and sniffing the air. “Oh, cute! She’s looking for her wolf.”

“That’s right! Once you and Levi are together, the wolf will appear.”

“I love it. I will take it.”

She placed it in a nice box and then a cute bag. “Of course. I’m so glad you like it.” She tapped on the panel allowing you to pay. “I hope he likes it.”

You took the bag from her. “I think he will.”

Vincent smiled. “He will, but knowing him he’ll think you’re proposing.”

Your cheeks burned as Vincent and the lady laughed. “Maybe.” You waved to her. “Thank you, bye.”

Vincent walked out of the shop with you and stared ahead. “Damn. Uh, I have someone to talk to. Are you going to be okay?”

You nodded as you gripped your bag. “Yeah. I’ll go to a café.”

He smiled a little. “Wonderful. I’ll come and get you. I shouldn’t be too long.”

You gave him a bright smile before walking over to a cute café. You took your seat and ordered a few things. As you enjoyed your time you looked on your communicator to see that Vincent was right, Levi had sent you a few messages. It made you smile to know that he thought about you so much. You replied to every message and sent him many kisses.

“Excuse me?”

You gazed up and looked at a woman in her 50s with long thick brunette hair with highlights and a block fringe, smoky hazel eyes, red plump lips, a tall frame and rather slim. By the clothes she wore and the purse she had, it was clear she was rich. “Yes?”

She smiled at you. “Sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t help but admire your necklace.”

You reached up and touched it, it was one of many gifts Levi had given you. “Thank you.”

“Where did you get it from?”

“My boyfriend got it for me. So, I don’t know. Sorry.”

She hummed a laugh. “He’s got a good eye.” She moved closer to you. “It’s made out of strong material.” She reached for your necklace. “Very useful to grab and pull when no one is expecting.”

You felt bad intent coming from her, so you grabbed her hand and twisted a little. “I might look sweet and innocent, but I do know how to break someone’s hand who means me harm.”

She smirked at you. “I would never.”

A stern call of your name laced with concern grabbed your attention. Vincent moved over to you and looked rage-filled. “Why are you here? Did you follow us?” He grabbed your upper arm and pulled you to your feet. “Get away from this woman.”

You stumbled a bit and hid behind Vincent. “Vincent?” You could feel he was shaking a little but he was trying hard to be brave. “Let me.”

Vincent looked down at you. “I can’t. I promised him I would protect you.”

You smiled softly at him. “When was the last time someone protected you?”

“I uh…”

You stepped in front of him and created a barrier. “I know about you. I know the things you’ve done to my dear friend and I won’t let you hurt him anymore.”

She glared at you. “Who do you think you are? You’re a whore and a pathetic little cunt to me. You manipulated my son’s heart and threw him away.”

“Vincent has never had romantic feelings for me.”

She laughed at you. “I meant my other son.”

Your eyes widened. “Danny is your son?”

She held your chin and smiled. “I can understand why he fell for you and still deeply loves you. He tried everything to spoil you. Now he’s under my wing again, I’ll help him. He wants you back and I will shape you into a better woman.” She moved her long fake nail over your cheek and cut you. “You need to be disciplined like I disciplined Vincent.”

Your eyes widened when you remember what Levi and Vincent had told you. This woman before you was Ariana De’lore, the birth mother of Vincent and the person who had abused him as a child. Often, she’d beat him, scare him, burn him and starve him. If Vincent didn’t act a certain way, he was punished. Ariana wanted Sebastian back in her life for the money, fame and attention. There was no love in her heart but only the desire to be wanted and needed. Kuchel was a beacon of love and so were you. You refused to let this woman hurt this family anymore. As you stared at this woman going on about punishment and laughing as if it was just fun and games, you snapped.

Before you had time to think about your actions, you had punched her in the face and knocked her back. A flash of regret went through you, but as soon as you saw her lip bleeding and the look of shock on her face that someone stood up to her, it made you feel incredible. You glanced at your hand to see you’d cut it up on her thin and bony face.

Ariana screamed in frustration. “You little!”

You puffed your chest out a bit. “You can go tell Danny he can fuck himself. He left me in so much debt because he kept taking money to gamble. I had a good job, we didn’t need all that money.” You tried to stop yourself from crying because you were so angry. “You’re a wicked and evil woman for beating your own child.”

Vincent pulled you close. “Come on, we should leave.”

Ariana panicked a moment when she saw you both leaving. “Vincent De’lore! Get back here. I am your mother!”

You turned and stormed up to her making her back up. “He is Vincent Ackerman! His mother is Kuchel Ackerman! You are nothing to him and I will make sure you don’t go near him again.”

She snarled at you. “I will break you.”

You raised your fist to hit her causing her to flinch. “Yeah right.” You turned on your heels and smiled at Vincent. “Shall we go to a nicer café?”

He put his arm around you. “Well, I think we should go to a place Levi loves because I have a feeling he has done being apart from you.”

You walked with him to his car. “Is it a noodle place?”

“How did you know?”

You hummed a laugh. “He likes noodles and rice.”

Vincent was at a loss for words as he reflected on what had happened between you and Ariana. He wanted to reward you in some way as thanks for what you’d done for him. It also occurred to him that he had to break the news to Levi that you had met Ariana. He was filled with so many conflicting thoughts and feelings.

All his feelings washed away when you smiled at him and pulled him along. To Vincent, you were like a sister he never knew he needed. Vincent hoped that you and Levi would marry so you would stay with the family, if Levi didn’t marry you he was probably going to hit him. However, Vincent was incredibly sure you and Levi would be together until you both grew old and passed peacefully.

“Oi.” Levi walked over to the table you were at. “Why are you two on a lunch date?” He stared at your cheek. “Why is there a cut on your precious cheek!?” He sat down and cradled your face. “My little bunny got hurt!”

You smiled at him. “I missed you.”

Levi blushed. “I missed you too.” He leaned closer and kissed you. “What happened though?”

Vincent sighed. “I’ll tell you.”

You ordered more food and drinks as to two brothers talked. You whined as Levi hurried over and cleaned your cheek up. “I’m okay.”

Levi kissed your cheek a lot. “I’m sorry you met her and she hurt you.”

“It’s okay, I punched her for Vincent.”

Levi chuckled. “Good girl. You’re like an Ackerman.”

You hummed a laugh. “I guess you’re right.” You gasped and grabbed your bag. “I have something for you.”

Levi sat next to you. “Really?”

You gave the bag to him. “I hope you like it.”

He kissed your cheek before opening the bag and then the box to show the black ring. “Bunny…”

You picked up the ring. “Watch the ring.”

Levi stared at the ring, saw a little bunny hop along, and then a wolf walked over. The wolf sniffed the bunny and a little heart appeared above them, then the bunny snuggled up to the wolf. “That’s us.”

You nodded. “It tracks me. So, you’ll be able to watch a bunny on there moving around and doing things. When we’re together a wolf appears.”

Levi slipped it on his wedding finger and locked eyes with you. “Yes.”

You stared at him. “Huh?”

He kissed you and hummed in delight. “I was going to ask you, but you beat me to it.” He put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a ring and smiled. “I was getting this with my dad today.” He locked eyes with you. “Seeing as you already asked I don’t need to ask.” He noticed your wide eyes. “Oh…you weren’t asking.” He blushed bright red. “Fuck.”

You grabbed his hand holding the ring. “Ask me.”

He whined. “But.”

“Ask.”

He locked eyes with him. “Will you marry me?”

You squeaked a little. “Yes. Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yes.” He slipped the ring on your finger with shaky hands before kissing you. “Mine.”

As a celebration of your and Levi’s engagement, Levi’s parents decided to take everyone out on a fun full-day outing to a stunning botanical garden. After a night of a few drinks and a light celebration, you all got up the next day and dressed up in cute summer things. It was fun to all get into the same car, almost like you were one big happy family. Sebastian drove the car, Kuchel was in the passenger and you were sat in the middle seat between Levi and Vincent.

Levi’s fingers were entwined with yours and his lips barely left your neck and shoulder. He smiled against your skin and whispered. “I love you.”

You turned your head and smiled at him. “I love you too.”

“Can I call you Mrs Ackerbunny?”

You giggled. “We’re not married yet.”

He nipped your shoulder. “We should be.”

Vincent let out a loud groan. “Are we there yet? If I have to sit any longer next to my lovesick brother I’m going to vomit.”

Kuchel giggled. “Leave your brother be. He’s happy.”

“Mum, he asked her if he could call her Mrs Ackerbunny.”

“That’s adorable!”

Vincent moaned. “Dad?”

Sebastian chuckled. “I think it’s sweet. Your mother is my little kitten.” He looked over at Kuchel. “Mrs Ackerkitty.”

Kuchel leaned over and kissed him. “My Ackerbear.”

Vincent sighed. “Fuck, I’m so single.”

You smiled at Vincent. “You’re an incredible man. I know you’ll find the perfect lady, but if you don’t that’s okay as well. Don’t settle for anything less than what you deserve, which is a loving and caring woman who accepts all of you.”

Vincent blushed a little, his heart raced a moment, so he ruffled his hair a moment out of nerves. “Pfft, you softie.”

Sebastian pulled up and looked into the back. “All right kids, time to explore. Make sure you stay close to us.”

Levi kissed your cheek. “We’ll be saying that in a few years with our kids.”

You nodded shyly. “Yes.”

Levi climbed out of the car and pulled you along with him. He held you against him when you slowly walked along the paths. The two of you would stop at every opportunity to kiss and cuddle. He held you against him where there was a nice view around you both. The views were so beautiful to you both and it was so quiet, even though there were a lot of people around.

You stepped back from Levi a little bit but held his hands. “This is just perfect. We don’t need a big party with drinks. All we need is our family. I want to bring my parents to the city to meet you.”

Levi went white. “Your parents.”

You giggled. “Levi, you’re in the mafia and you're in the most powerful family in this city. There is no need to be afraid of my parents, they’re just normal people.”

He lowered his head and sighed. “I know, it's just that I want them to like me.”

“They will love you.”

“Thank you.”

You lifted his hands to your lips and started kissing. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You looked up at him and flinched when something wet and hot hit your face. Instinct made you close your eyes at being hit in the face by something. As soon as you opened your eyes you felt everything slow down around you. You reached towards Levi as blood poured from the side of his neck. The look in Levi’s eyes was not doom and gloom at his injury, but concern for your safety.

Levi wrapped his arms around you ready to run off with you, but his body bucked when something went through his back. “Ngh.”

You gasped when you felt something hot rip through you and then all feeling in your legs was gone. You dropped to the floor and Levi fell forwards with you to the floor. You could barely feel the weight of Levi on you. All you were concerned about was Levi’s bleeding neck. “Le-Levi.”

Levi panted heavily. “I’m…okay…are you?”

You reached up and pressed his neck. “You’re bleeding so much.”

Vincent’s voice echoed as he shouted. “Levi!” He screamed your name after as he got closer. “Mum! Dad! Help me!” He pulled Levi off you. “Sorry Levi, I know you want to hold her and protect her, but I need to tend to you.” He yanked his jacket off and pressed it against Levi’s neck. “I’ve got you.” He looked over at you. “I’ve got him, okay?”

You smiled as tears filled your eyes. “Thank you.” You frowned when you realised your legs weren’t moving. “Vincent? I can’t move my legs.”

Levi winced a bit and tried to look over. “Bunny? What do you mean?”

Vincent looked up as his parents ran over. “Dad! Mum! Help!”

Sebastian ran right over to you and called your name. “Don’t move. I’ve got you.” He knelt at your side and went pale as he looked you over. “Kuchel, call an ambulance.”

Levi started to panic. “Dad? Dad, what’s wrong with her?”

Sebastian could see a bullet had ripped right through Levi and into you. He could see the hole at the front and a bit of blood, but there was a massive pool of blood under you. “It’ll be okay, Levi.”

You shook a little when you started to feel cold. “Sebastian?”

He yanked his jacket off and put it over you. “I’m right here.”

You welled up. “Come closer, I don’t want Levi to hear.”

He leaned close to your lips. “I’m here.”

“I can’t feel my legs.”

Panic shot through Sebastian, but he knew he needed to remain calm for his family. He held your hand tightly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you help.”

You looked over at Levi to see he was fighting Vincent a little to get up. “Levi, stay still. You’ll bleed out.” You sniffed a bit. “Think of our wedding.”

There was a rush around you as the ambulance quickly arrived. It pained Levi to be parted from you, but the two of you had been badly hurt. Sebastian stayed with you to protect you in case someone tried to come after you. Vincent stuck with his brother to stop him from kicking and fighting to come see you. Kuchel made multiple calls and put plans into action.

Levi jolted awake in his hospital bed and felt pain in his neck. “Tch, fuck me.” He shifted in the bed and called your name. “Where is she?”

Vincent pushed Levi to lie back. “You need to relax, okay? If you thrash about it’ll cause you to bleed all over the place.” He said your name. “She’s okay. She’s had surgery as well like you and she’s healing. You need to think of her. You need to get strong for her.”

Levi slammed his head against his pillow and fought tears. “Mm…fuck…you’re right.”

Vincent pressed the button for the nurse. “You’ve bled a bit.”

The nurse hurried in. “Everything okay?”

“He’s woken up and I think he’s messed up his stitches.”

Levi huffed as the nurse tended to him. “What’s the damage?”

She smiled at him. “You’ll do okay. You’re healing well, but you need to not fight your brother much or you will take longer to heal. A bullet ripped through the side of your neck, so we’ve had to replace the missing skin and muscle with cybernetics. The second bullet clipped your spine, so we’ve had to put cybernetics there as well. You’re making an incredible recovery.”

He said your name. “How is she?”

She tapped on her holopad and searched for your name. “Surgery is complete and was a success. She has woken up and she can now feel her legs.”

Levi’s eyes widened. “What? She couldn’t feel her legs?”

The nurse checked her notes. “Seems like the bullet went through you and ripped through her spine. She lost the use of her legs and felt nothing from the waist down. The doctor managed to put in a cybernetic spine and it took really well. She can feel everything and with this spine in place she’ll be a lot stronger.”

Levi pressed his palms to his face. “I got her shot.”

Vincent waved the nurse to leave and closed the door behind her. “Levi, you didn’t do this. I know Ariana did. It’s likely that witch was aiming for you because Danny wants your bunny back. Bunny getting hurt was probably not intentional.”

Levi moved his hands away from his face. Thinking over his brother’s words made sense because Ariana’s hatred was towards Levi and Kuchel, no one else. “I still feel like there is some blame on my part.”

Vincent sat on Levi’s bed. “You’re not thinking about leaving her, are you?”

A strong look of determination and vengeance was in Levi’s eyes when he gazed at Vincent. “Never. I want to rip Ariana’s heart out and make her pay for hurting my bunny.” Levi climbed out of bed and growled. “She’s my bunny. Mine. I won’t anyone touch a pretty hair on her head again.”

Vincent followed his brother. “I support this idea, but make sure you don’t go overprotective with Bunny, okay?”

“Mm.”

“I mean it, Levi.”

Levi pouted. “Fine. I’ll be good.” He paused in the hall. “Now take me to my wife.”

Vincent rolled his eyes. “She’s not your wife yet.”

“She will be. Now, where is she?”

Vincent smiled and walked with Levi to your hospital room. He paused and turned. “Just to warn you.”

Levi’s eyes widened. “Does she look bad?”

He shook his head. “No, her parents are here. So, this is a fun way to meet the in-laws, huh?” Vincent opened the door and grinned. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite couple.”

Levi couldn’t believe his brother had already gotten cosy and close with your parents. He felt nervous. The first time he was meeting your parents was because you got shot. Failure and unworthiness drifted into his head. Levi’s love for you was incredibly strong, but as he stood before your door keep him from you and your parents, he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to be with you, but he also wanted your parents to like him.

“You’re Levi, right?” Your mother looked like you as she gazed up at Levi. She was a short lady that looked so sweet and kind. She smiled a little at Levi. “Thank you for loving our daughter and protecting her.”

Tears filled his eyes. “I failed her.”

She wrapped her arms around Levi and hugged him. “Levi, we can’t protect people we love from everything. Sometimes people get hurt. She is alive and well right now because of you protecting her with your body.” She released him and smiled. “Plus, the new spine she got is incredible. The normal stuff is free with our wonderful free healthcare, but your father went out of his way to pay for the top-of-the-line spine. We are so grateful.” She wiped his tears away. “Please don’t blame yourself or beat yourself up, okay?”

Levi smiled a little and nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

She grinned. “Good boy. My daughter was right about you. She has talked about you so much on calls and messages. You are just as handsome and as cute as she said you are.”

Levi blushed bright red. “R-Really?”

“Yes.” She giggled. “There’s that cute blush.” She held his hand and pulled him into your room. “Honey? Come meet your son-in-law.”

Your dad was a big guy, like Levi’s was. They were like two friendly bears if they were to stand together. He gave Levi a big grin and hugged him. “Good to meet you, lad!” He pulled back and looked at Levi’s neck. “Look at all that tech in your neck, looks good.”

Levi lightly touched it. “Thanks. I haven’t looked at it but it feels like a lot.” It dawned on Levi how much he had there. “Shit, this is a lot. No wonder bunny told me off.” Levi looked up. “Sorry for swearing.”

Your dad chucked. “I swear a lot, don’t worry. Also, I’m not surprised my daughter told you off. The whole left side of your neck has a cover on it. Did it have tattoos?”

Levi shook his head. “Not yet, but I was planning for something.” He let out a long sigh. “I have room elsewhere.” He looked down at his engagement ring to see a wolf with a bandage sitting next to a sleeping bunny, which also had a bandage on. “She not woken up yet?”

“She has woken up a few times and each time she asks for you. When we tell her you’re healing and in your room, she gets sad and falls asleep.” He patted Levi’s shoulder. “We’ll leave you to it.”

Levi waved to everyone before making his way to your bed. He sat down and took your hand in his. He smiled when you stirred a little and opened your eyes. “Bunny.”

You smiled brightly at Levi. “Grumpy.”

“I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

You reached up and caressed his cheek. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine really. I pissed her off by punching her in her stupid face.”

Levi chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

“We’ll get her back.”

“We will.”

You let out a long sigh. “On the bright side, I have this incredible new spine. All my back pain is gone. We’ll be able to do a lot more naughty things in bed and back paid when giving birth will be gone. I think this is a win.”

Levi laughed. “I love you so much.”

“Your neck looks cool. I wanna kiss it.”

He shifted and lay on the bed next to you. “It needs to heal, okay? Once it is, you can kiss it all the time.”

“Thank you.” You hummed. “Any other tech added?”

“New spine as well.”

You gasped in delight. “Snap! This is exciting.”

Levi hugged you tightly. “I love how optimistic you are.”

“Well, how can I not be? I’m going to be marrying the love of my life. Your parents love me. My parents love you. We’re both alive and better than before. It’s all okay.”

Levi crashed his lips against yours and hummed in happiness. “You’re right.”

You giggled and hugged him. “Oh, um I think you’re gonna like what I ask, but could you help me move around the next couple of days, possibly weeks? The doctor said that due to me being in surgery for a while to get the bullet removed and then the spine fitted, my legs are a bit weak. So, I’ll need some help moving around.”

Levi’s eyes sparkled at the thought of carrying you around. “I’ll carry you like a princess.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

Levi nuzzled your neck. “I will.”

You petted Levi’s head and sighed. “All right. You can carry me around. You cutie.”

Levi showered your face with kisses. “I love you.”

“Love you, Levi.”

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laracrofted · 2 years

Text

baby, i'm high octane (i)

synopsis: nora rogers has made a name for herself in the documentary world, but lately, she's been running on empty. and then, with impeccable timing, her aunt charlie calls about an eight-week project in san diego: a feature on naval aviation's newest and most elite squadron. she accepts.

pairings: jake seresin x nora rogers (oc), minor bradley bradshaw x nora rogers (oc)

warnings: 18+, minors dni, explicit language, existential dread, alcohol consumption, slutty (affectionate) rooster, eventual smut in later chapters. set after the movie, so spoilers!

note: i have been working on this for many, many months, and every time i went back to edit it, it gained another 500 words, so i need to put it out in the world for my own sake. hope you enjoy!

read on AO3 | series post | next chapter

tagging: @theharddeck as usual, some mutuals (@anniesocsandgeneralstore @roleycoleyland), plus some folks who were nice about the halloween fic (@peakyrogers @t-nd-rfoot @double-j) let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

[ OPENING CRAWL ]

On March 3, 1969, the UNITED STATES NAVY established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the LOST ART OF AERIAL COMBAT and to ensure that the handful of men (and now women) who graduated were the BEST FIGHTER PILOTS IN THE WORLD. They succeeded.

The Navy calls it Fighter Weapons School. You might know it better as TOP GUN.

The DAGGER SQUADRON is Naval Aviation’s newest and most elite squadron, exclusively made up of patch wearers. Here are their stories…

[ CUE MUSIC AND FADE TO BLACK ]

Back in California for less than 24 hours, and Nora already longs for the cobblestone streets and late night espressos and dear god, the accents of the past six months.

She is used to being on the move. Living out of an expertly packed suitcase, down to a science now. Never quite settling down.

Any documentary filmmaker worth their salt learns early to stay light on their feet, ready at a moment’s notice to get the call that takes them halfway around the globe and brings them the quote, unquote next great story.

This…was a different sort of call.

“You want me to go to San Diego? Why?”

It was well past midnight in France, which made it more or less dinner time on the other side of the Atlantic. For Charlie Blackwood, a perfectly acceptable time to ring her favorite niece, but Nora had to take the call out on the small balcony that was attached to her hotel room.

Documentaries weren’t the same as Hollywood films with their wider box office appeal and George Clooney-type stars. Funding was measly in comparison, so Nora bunked with one of the producers for the Paris leg. She and Jenna had worked together before a couple years back, and while Nora knew her to be sugar sweet from dawn to dusk, the 30-year-old woman did not fuck around with her skincare routine and her eight hours.

At this time of night on a non-weekend, Paris didn’t have much street noise, but Nora was still certain Charlie’s connection must’ve cut out somewhere in the middle of her sentence. Or maybe Nora had heard her wrong.

International calls could be so fickle sometimes. Right?

“Let me get this straight. You’re asking if I want to leave Paris to go to San Diego…” Nora repeated slowly, leaving ample breathing room between each word, plenty of time for Charlie to cut in and correct her, “and meet with your ex-boyfriend about some Naval feature? We don’t even like him.”

“You can call him Maverick,” Charlie replied evenly, “Everybody else does.”

Nora pulled a face. “I’ll call him Pete. How’s that?”

“He’ll definitely ask you to call him Maverick.”

“And I’ll still call him Pete.”

Charlie’s answering sigh was loud in her ear, even through the static, and Nora smiled down at her shoes. She took a careful step around the bite-sized table, stacked precariously full with her laptop, camera, and notepad, and planted her elbows on the railing. Metal creaked gently under her weight.

“Pete… will be fine,” Charlie relented, “and really, Pete is fine in my book. We’re just… two old acquaintances who wanted different things and were never going to work out in the long term. Besides, from what I hear, Penny Benjamin is his new sweetheart now. Well, new old sweetheart.”

She didn’t know who Penny Benjamin was. Must be a real saint to put up with him.

“Good. He won’t be knocking on your door the next time the Navy sends him to Washington to accept some medal then, right?”

Nora was seventeen the last time Pete Mitchell came knocking on Charlie Blackwood’s door; around eighteen months after Nora’s mom died, making Charlie her legal guardian. He happened to be in town for some medal or some ceremony or some medal at some ceremony.

He left in the dead of night, out the window, and Charlie spent the next two weeks muttering curses about hotshot pilots and their charismatic bullshit.

“That was almost twelve years ago, Nora,” Charlie chided, much less fun Aunt Charlie and much more diplomatic Charlotte Blackwood, employed by the Pentagon in that moment. Nora rolled her eyes.

“And anyway,” Charlie continued, not letting her get another word in, “Maverick isn’t the main contact. You’d only meet with him because All Hands…” A Naval magazine, print and digital, funding the project, as Charlie had explained in her initial one long sentence explanation before Nora had been distracted by the who and the where. “…wants to focus on his team. Everything is already approved. All you, my love, would need to do is get the golden seal from Cyclone to head it up. He’s the Air Boss over there.”

“Now Cyclone is a name that I don’t know,” Nora said, then swiped out of the call to look up the definition of Air Boss. “Doesn’t sound like a name made up by a 13-year-old boy who plays too much Call of Duty. He a Captain too?”

“Vice Admiral. You can meet him on your first day,” and Nora’s lips parted in protest, to say that was a little presumptuous, given she hadn’t agreed to anything and was still half a world away working on something else. Charlie cut her off, right at the knees: “Don’t start with me. Your Paris job wraps in what… four, five days?

Three, but Nora didn’t correct her.

“Normally, by now, I would be getting half a dozen calls every week from you, gushing about what you’ve got going on next; whatever place you’ll be jetting off to this time. This is the first time I’ve talked to you in at least two weeks,” Guilt pinged at her chest, along with a large helping of existential dread. “Have you even signed on to anything new?”

No. And Nora was doing jack shit to change that.

Her producer was already signed on for a film that would start pre-production ten weeks from now. It was a big one, lots of people to bring on board, and Jenna – literal angel in human form Jenna offered to pass Nora’s name along for consideration.

Nora still hadn’t given an answer.

She worried the edge of her lip but said nothing, and Charlie must’ve taken that as encouragement enough to continue on. “It’ll be a short project. Gives you enough time to find something new that excites you. Just… go to North Island and talk to Cyclone. You need a break.”

Late May breezed across her cheeks, smelling of the sweet pink and white cherry blossoms in bloom at a nearby park. She’d passed it nearly every day, afraid that the end of May would come and Nora wouldn’t ever see them in full bloom before having to leave. They bloomed two weeks ago, almost overnight, and Nora knew that June loomed and with it, the end of another project.

All that remained was uncertainty.

She did need a break, though Nora wasn’t sure that anyone other than her aunt and herself would consider working on another documentary to be a break. She couldn’t remember the last time Charlie had even taken a sick day. They were born and bred workaholics the both of them, and usually, Nora thrived on that.

But lately, Nora was so tired.

Another project could be good for me, Nora thought. Fewer eyes and expectations, without the pressure of acclaim and awards and future grants and questions of what are you doing next tightening like a noose around her neck. It’d be a one and done. She could do that.

“Alright,” Nora said, feeling a little lighter from letting the words loose. That was reassuring, at least. “Start from the beginning. How’d you find out about it? Who are the subjects? What’s the goal?”

Smile audible in her voice, Charlie started again, “Here is what I know…”

They wrapped mid-week with the usual fanfare, and the next day, Nora was packed and on a plane back home to Southern California.

Nora could already tell the Vice Admiral was ready to have the screening process over and done with. He barely asked her any questions before shaking her hand and foisting her onto Admiral Bates who ran her through the rules and regulations for getting onto the base and her accommodations.

Since Nora was freelancing for a Naval magazine, the United States government would be putting her up for the duration of the project. God bless America. She did not want to find a last minute hotel room in San Diego in June.

After obtaining a temporary ID card and a neat stack of manilla folders, probably filled with generously redacted background and service records, Nora is promptly deposited in the beachside parking lot of a steel-blue apartment building, faded from sun and brine, with a whole night ahead.

Showering off the plane eats up a few minutes, as does replying to the check-in email that the magazine contact sent over this afternoon. They would talk more over the weekend and into next week. It was difficult to connect with the time difference, so Charlie had guided the initial communication.

Calling Charlie drains another half hour, while Nora hums in all the right places and fights to keep her eyes open, chiming in with the occasional observation about North Island and tidbit about the conversation with Cyclone and Warlock.

“What’d you think of Cyclone?”

She stares at the blank wall across from the bed – all that wide open space and not an art print in sight – and thinks back.

Cyclone leveled an impassive stare at her over the folder that held her portfolio – apparently faxed over by Charlie before Nora had even agreed to come – and said, “This is an unusual circumstance. Most of the nepotism hires that come across my desk are aiming higher than an eight week contractor.”

She’d bitten her cheek to hold back a laugh, and Admiral Bates let out a suspiciously timed cough, hiding his mouth behind a balled fist.

“He was kind of hot,” Nora admits, then has to hold the phone away from her ear to not be deafened by Charlie’s laughter. “What? Just because I lack a father figure, I’m not allowed to appreciate an older man every now and then?”

“Sure, but I think I’ll draw the line at Maverick.”

Nora does her best projectile vomit noise, and Charlie laughs so hard that Mr. Charlotte Blackwood – as Nora affectionately likes to call Charlie’s husband John, who always accepted it with a congenial smile that only made her like him more – shouts from another room, wanting to know what exactly is so hilarious.

She won’t see Pete Mitchell until Monday, and after promising to tell him that Charlie says hello and sends her best to him and this Penny Benjamin woman, Nora hangs up the phone.

It’s barely 8 PM, and Nora wants nothing more than to crawl under the covers and leech the travel from her bones, but the San Diego sun is stubborn and high on the horizon. She knows her own body well enough to know that an 8 PM bedtime makes for a 3 AM bout of insomnia.

Boredom finds Nora perched on a cushioned barstool, a fresh t-shirt on her torso and a new coat of red lipstick on her lips, in the crowded Hard Deck bar. Sipping on an Old Fashioned, chatting with none other than Penny Benjamin.

“Charlie Blackwood,” Penny Benjamin repeats, a surprised but amiable smile on her face. A brown leather jacket sits over her slender shoulders, the same warm shade as her hair, and Nora spots a United States Navy patch on the sleeve. “God, I haven’t seen Charlie in… 30 years now. She may have told you, but I met her once or twice at Top Gun, back before my old man, the great Admiral Benjamin, retired. How’s she doing?”

“She’s good,” Nora offers, adding as an afterthought, just in case Penny Benjamin was the jealous type. “Married now.”

Penny sends her a sidelong look, narrow-eyed, that must make the fresh-faced Top Gun hopefuls cower in their regulation boots. Behind the glass, Nora’s lips curve into an amused smirk.

Things must be going well. Good for them.

Nora swirls the amber liquid, fishing out an extra cherry from the bottom and popping it into her mouth. “She sends her well wishes. She’d probably want me to give you a hug or something, but I think I’d fall on my ass trying to lean over the counter. Consider yourself lucky.”

“You can give my hug to Pete, but only if I’m there to witness.”

“Distinguished Captain Mitchell isn’t much of a hugger? I’m shocked.”

“Are you kidding?” Penny fills another pint glass for a patron a few barstools down, sliding it down the counter and looking back at Nora with an amused twinkle. “He’ll turn into a robot. He won’t know how to react. Make sure to ask one of the boys to record it for you so I can blackmail him with it forever.”

Imagining it, Nora is still smiling when Penny’s name calls her to the other side of the counter. Leaving her alone to people-watch and observe the establishment with a filmmaker’s eye.

Miniature planes hang from the ceiling, swaying in the breeze that cuts in with the opening and closing of the door. A wood island separates one side of the bar from the other, stacked high with an assortment of colorful glass bottles that gleam in the fading sunlight.

A golden wash spills through the back windows, and the Hard Deck is filling up fast with civilians, veterans, and servicemen alike. They’re the easiest to spot, wearing their service khakis and all.

Music swells through the bar, and Nora spies a jukebox in the corner, drawing a line five deep, all waiting for their turn to select the next 1980s classic. She recognizes the current song from her white dad music playlist.

‘Take It Easy’ by Eagles. Track four, baby.

Over her shoulder, a tight-knit crowd surrounds the pool table. They throw jeers and jokes at each other with familiarity, and Nora watches them for a moment too long, dragging her tired eyes away when one of them starts to turn in her direction.

She checks her phone, under the bar, not on top, of course, unless Nora wants to buy the whole room a round. A little after 8:30 now. She just needs a kill another hour or so, and then, that’ll feel like an acceptable time to crawl into bed and sleep for the next ten hours.

Fingers dancing through her tote, Nora fishes out her favorite journal, setting it down flat on the least sticky surface she can find. Leather-bound, stuffed to the brim with colorful sticky notes and touch-creased photographs. Further searches reveal that Nora left her pens back at the apartment, somewhere in one of those suitcases that had gotten packed and unpacked in an attempt to burn time.

“Do you have a spare pen?”

A blue pen rolls over to her waiting hands as Penny passes with a wink and dashes down the counter to fill a round of drinks. She has that endless energy that Nora needs a few coffees to achieve.

Thinking it makes Nora’s lids feel even heavier.

Tracks switch again on the jukebox, and Nora hums along to the new song, another winning installment on her white dad music playlist. Has the United States Navy hacked her Spotify account or something? She cuts through the pages like a surfboard through an ocean wave to find a fresh page, and Nora spins the pen between manicured fingers, mouthing the lyrics to ‘Dancing in the Dark’ under her breath.

Her brain is a firework show, thoughts shooting off high and fast, bursting into a million different directions. Loud and colorful. She can be like this on her best day, but a severe lack of sleep – or in this case, horrible jet lag – makes it a million times worse.

A long blank stare at the page later, Nora manages to piece a few words together into what might resemble a coherent thought, with emphasis on the word might here.

And right as Nora clicks the pen and presses it down on the page, denting the lined paper beneath the blue ink, an empty pint glass is set down on the counter, a few inches from her left hand. A whiff of cologne fills her nostrils, a little overbearing but still pleasant.

Fingers drum against the wood, in time with the music, and determined, despite the distraction, to pin down the semi-coherent thoughts that are now fleeing like scattered mice, Nora reaches for her drink and finds it empty save for half-melted ice and an orange rind.

“Buy you another one, sweetheart?”

She looks up, in spite of herself, and damn.

He is handsome as hell, heart-aching levels of handsome, a little like looking into the sun. Like a goddamn movie star, all broad shoulders and perfect, slicked back blonde hair, and easy confidence that fits him like a well-worn shirt.

He plucks the rocks glass easily from her stunned grip, holding it between two fingers, a loose, almost careless hold, and damn her to hell, Nora swallows against her suddenly dry mouth.

She really needs to go to bed. Among other things.

Green eyes study the contents of the glass, then flick back over to her, and Nora is hit with the full force of a mega-watt smile.

Dimples out. Ready to film a tooth-whitener commercial.

“Bourbon girl? I’m impressed.”

“Why?” Nora drawls, and hell, the word comes out of her mouth a little rough. Get it together. Put away the bedroom voice. She clears the cobwebs from her throat. “Because I look like I’d order a cosmopolitan in a dive bar and act surprised when I’m given a vodka cran?”

He seems to take look as an invitation, dragging his eyes over the soft t-shirt, a little damp over the shoulders from her shower, and the faded blue jeans that hang loosely from her legs, an old pair with a rip in the knee big enough that Nora might soon need to give them a second life as shorts.

His appraisal stalls out on her blood-red lips, tracing the shape of them, getting the lay of the land. And then, slowly rises back to meet her gaze. All the while, smiling like a pageant contestant.

“Name’s Hangman.”

Record scratch. He’s a pilot.

Goddamn pilots.

“That doesn’t sound like a name,” Nora drawls back, matching his conceited-ass smile with her freshly chilled ice-cold bitch smirk. “And I can buy my own drinks.”

Rudeness isn’t her drug of choice, but Nora clocks him as a tough one. A swift one-two ego punch should do the trick, rejecting his advance and mocking his precious call sign in one fell swoop. Aviators toss those around more than their actual names.

He’ll leave now.

She stares him down, and Mr. Pilot stares right back, eyes amused and sparkling in the twinkling lights dancing right above the bar, tucked between the steins.

Any minute now.

He doesn’t move an inch, and if possible, the Barbie and Ken smile grows even wider on his perfect face. He’s so hot, Nora kinda wants to break his nose just to make something on his face crooked.

“It’s my call sign.”

She is so tired. It trips off her tongue, almost out of habit: “Well, I’m not calling you Hangman. What’s your actual name?”

Why…. Why would those words come out of her mouth, instead of the ‘Get lost, Malibu Barbie’ that was locked and loaded in the back of her mind? Damn damn damn.

She doesn’t fool around with pilots, not after Charlie’s history with Pete Mitchell and her own Air Force sperm donor who couldn’t be bothered to call more than once a year. And especially not, when Nora will be working on the base for the next two months. What if Nora ran into him?

The edge of Hangman’s mouth twitches into a slow, dangerous smile, and Nora catches a flash of his canines, ultra-white like the rest of his teeth.

She fiddles with the pen cap, rolling and bending it between her pointer finger and thumb. Waits impatiently for him to give her an answer that gives her the opening needed to send him packing, back to the pool table to make better use of his bulging arm muscles over there.

Some co-ed girls push behind him, stumbling and giggling to each other, and in stepping out of their way, Hangman inches forward into her space. Breath warm at her nape, stirring the pale strands loose at her cheekbones, too short to remain tucked behind her ears without a fight.

Clever fingers capture one and brush it back into place, softly brushing against the side of her neck. His words are a low, hot rumble against the shell of her ear: “It’s Jake. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

Oh, Nora thinks, warm all over in a way that has nothing to do with the sticky heat of the night. Oh shit.

She has the borrowed pen in a chokehold, gripping it hard enough to redden her fingertips, and Hangman – now Jake notices. His grin widens, and Nora forces herself to loosen the hold, to let the blood flow back into her hands, to regain some of her composure.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

Not a question this time, so Nora doesn’t need to give him a yes or no.

He’s offered a loophole, one around her own better judgment, without even realizing it. She can just drop her shoulders with casual indifference, as if to say if you insist, and turn back to her journal. Pretend not to feel his intent, most definitely intrigued gaze on the side of her face.

It’s a free drink, and Nora’s hardly encouraging him. What is the harm, really?

A smug smile crosses his face when Penny comes over, an unreadable expression on her face, and Nora doesn’t stop him from ordering another Old Fashioned. He’s close enough now to feel the evening heat radiating from his tan skin, exposed where the sleeves of his t-shirt cut across his biceps.

Nora is not enabling anything. Not at all.

Rooster is on the last swallow of his beer when Phoenix looks over his shoulder and groans, a dramatic and drawn-out sound that would’ve made her an excellent soap opera star in a different life. He barely has time to snort before Bob appears at her side, a look of sudden concern on his clean-shaven face.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re never getting our next round.” Phoenix rigidly jerks her head in the direction that Hangman disappeared a few minutes ago. Too long ago, now that Rooster thinks about it. “Bagman got distracted.”

This is enough to bring the rest of the Daggers to attention. They round the pool table one by one, incited by the suggestion that Hangman might get out of buying them drinks.

“Distracted,” Payback lets out a sardonic snort. He leans on the pool cue like a walking stick, towering over the rest of them with Rooster seated. “He probably forgot to order the round. Idiot.”

“I don’t blame him,” Fanboy drawls, looking to the center of the room, waggling his brows. “I think I’d let her distract me anytime, anywhere. Is that not the hottest woman you’ve ever seen step foot in this bar?” His eyes go wide, almost panicked, darting to the only woman in their ranks. “No offense, Phoenix.”

Phoenix shows no sign of hearing him, and Rooster and Payback share a disbelieving look over the WSO’s head, snickering underneath their amazing mustaches. Lucky son of a bitch.

“Poor girl,” Phoenix muses with a slow shake of her head, sending her loose curls cascading over her shoulders. “Someone needs to launch a rescue mission. He’s practically drooling into her glass. And…” Something changes in her expression. “Did I hit my head in the cockpit this afternoon and not remember it? Does that girl look familiar to anyone else?”

“Never seen her before in my life,” Payback says, slapping his WSO on the shoulder, which seems to give Fanboy the confidence to add in, “I’d love to get further acquainted though. Think I can swoop in and steal her from Hangman?”

Phoenix has already pulled out her phone, paying no attention to the round of low chuckles and smirks that are shared between the men. Her fingers skate across the screen, faster than an F-18 on descent, and Rooster looks over his shoulder to get in on the joke.

It takes him all of two seconds to find them, mostly because Hangman has just flashed that thousand-watt smile that could probably blind an enemy dogfighter.

He leans against the counter, the cocky bastard, with a pint glass in his hand – one that should be in all of their hands right now. Not an empty glass filled with an inch of foam. Looking down at the barstool next to him, or more specifically, at the woman perched there.

Slender, blonde, dressed down in a t-shirt and jeans, and most definitely a civilian. He can’t accurately weigh in on Fanboy’s assessment, at least until Rooster can catch a glimpse of her face.

“I knew it!”

All of them startle when Phoenix makes the announcement and looks up from her phone with the victorious expression of someone who’d just shot down Maverick in a dogfight. She waves her phone in front of their faces, too fast for him to make out more than a blur of words and pictures.

“I fucking knew it. I follow her on Instagram.” And the wide smile on Phoenix’s face be described as nothing short of gleeful gloating. She cackles to herself, leaning over to show the screen to Bob again. “And you little shits made fun of me for loving documentaries so much. Who’s laughing now?”

Documentaries….

Recognition tugs at the edge of his drunken memory.

“Her name is – ”

She turns, and Rooster sees her face.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Rooster calls out, and Phoenix and Bob startle at the sudden change in volume, brown and blue eyes shooting up from the phone like Rooster blared an airhorn between their heads. He ignores them. “Am I seeing things, or Nora fucking Rogers, is that you?”

Everyone in a 10-foot radius looks at him, exchanging looks and eye rolls, dismissing him as belligerent but harmless, but Rooster ignores them, keeping his eyes locked on one woman.

Cornflower blue eyes survey the crowded room, sifting through the noise to place the voice, and finally, land on him. Surprise softens her features. And as the jukebox switches tracks, another crooning 1980s love song pouring through the speakers, Nora Rogers smiles at him for the first time in half a decade.

“Bradley Bradshaw, from beyond the grave.”

It really is him. This… six-foot-something hallucination with tree-trunk arms and a ridiculous porn star mustache and a familiar gleam in his eyes that spelled trouble. Did Charlie know Bradley would be here? She might’ve mentioned that. Nora looks up at him… and up again, because goddamn, were all Naval aviators so fucking tall?

An awkward beat passes where Bradley and Nora seem to grapple for the right greeting for a person you hadn’t seen in years and hadn’t seen all that often in the first place and mutually, come up empty-handed.

They’d met all of four or five times over the years, courtesy of the long-distance friendship that blossomed between Aunt Charlie and his mother Carole after Pete had left his Top Gun instructor post and shipped out again. She could use the extra friend without her husband, Charlie had said.

And then, Nora got older and became Charlie’s backup plus one to some Naval Aviation functions, usually thrown by Top Gun graduates who passed through when Charlie was a civilian instructor. She’d see him there every once in a while, all grown up and pursuing his dreams of becoming a pilot.

And then, Nora thinks absently, there was that one time…

She should’ve remembered that Bradley Bradshaw is a hugger.

Making up his mind for them both, Bradley reaches out and tugs her against his chest. And for one moment, Nora can feel the muscled strength of his arms banded around her torso, the firmness of his chest underneath the open Hawaiian shirt and incredibly thin white tank; can practically make out the ridges of his abs through the fabric.

It is barely longer than a brief squeeze, but as Nora pulls back, an unnatural but not entirely unexpected lightness buzzes in her chest. She is quick to blame it on the lack of sleep and dark liquor coursing through her veins.

She is feeling all kinds of strange tonight.

Like earlier, when Jake Seresin handed over the Old Fashioned, an unshakable curl to his lips, and as Nora took a delicate sip, watched the movement with half-lidded eyes; the muscles that worked in her throat. Like Jake wanted nothing more than to follow the path with his mouth, and Nora could picture him sprawled across her bed, clear as a snapshot: chests heaving, sweat dripping, tongue dragging across her pulse point, his large hand a collar around her throat.

Right then. Silly little thoughts like that.

Nora clears her throat, tugging at the neckline of her tee, and almost unbidden, like a magnetic pull, her gaze wanders back to him, standing in nearly the exact same spot at the bar, collecting a round of drinks. He apparently owed the group for the last pool game or something.

She can’t help but notice a new tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there a few minutes ago. She can tell, having been slightly too preoccupied with the strong line of his shoulders over at the bar for her own liking. He’d seemed so casual at the bar, so relaxed.

Is Jake mad? At Bradley, for interrupting them? At Nora, for coming over here?

These seem to be his friends. He was playing pool with them after all, up until Jake approached her at the bar. And Nora was hardly even talking to him at the bar, scribbling in her notebook and entertaining the occasional question as Jake seemed content to stand at her shoulder and watch.

“What’s your name?”

“What’re you doing in Fightertown?”

“What do you do for work?”

“A filmmaker? Like Quentin Tarantino?”

And Nora had been incised enough to set her pen down and stare him down. “I make documentaries, and if I did make movies, I’d at least like to be compared to someone decent. Not some piece-of-shit asshole director.”

His brows rose, but Jake looked unperturbed. “Like who?”

“Like… I don’t know, Nora Ephron or Greta Gerwig. You probably don’t even know who Nora Ephron is, do you? Do you also think Fight Club is a love letter to toxic masculinity?”

He exhaled a laugh, brows still halfway to his hairline, and opened his mouth to reply when Bradley called her name, and Nora was gone before Jake could get another word in.

Still. Seeing him look so… Tense? Dejected? Annoyed?

It makes her feel off-kilter.

Maybe Jake just wanted to chat her up at the bar and go back to his friends, not to be bothered for the rest of the night. She’s ruined that plan by coming over here, invited or not. It shouldn’t matter. She can’t stop herself from wondering anyway. God. Why do you even care?

She doesn’t know him, and after tonight, she’ll likely never see him again.

He starts to turn, and Nora slingshots her gaze back to Bradley, refusing to be caught watching him, who is looking down – and down – with a rose-colored hue to his face. A pair of aviator sunglasses sit crookedly over his eyes, showing her reflection.

She takes a half-step back to not have to crane her neck so much to meet his eyes. Raises her voice to be heard over the music, much closer to the jukebox now. “What are you doing here? I might be out of the loop, but didn’t you already graduate from Top Gun? Like many, many years ago?”

“She’s calling you old, Rooster,” Jake cuts in, reappearing and passing out the few bottles and glasses around the circle. Seven total, including another Old Fashioned that Nora probably doesn’t need but still accepts. He shoots her a wink over the glass. “You gonna take that, man?”

“I was not, you jackass,” Nora shoots back, the second Old Fashioned blurring the lines between her brain and her mouth.

Jake settles against the pool table in a casual stance, arms crossed across his chest, biceps bulging. She must’ve imagined the earlier tension. He seems fine now, watching her with a smirk.

“I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew here. Answer the question, Bradshaw.”

Bradley’s laugh is a little loud, a little unsteady. One look at the nearest hightop table, littered with empty beer bottles and pint glasses, tells her everything she needs to know.

Bradley Bradshaw is tipsy. Color shines high in his cheeks.

“‘What am I doing here?’ You’re on a Naval base, darling, which makes me,” Bradley pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose and with the hand holding the new beer bottle, gestures to his own chest. Covered in that shirt that is… not hiding much, “the law around these parts. I ask the questions around here.” A dark-haired woman rolls her eyes behind his back. “What the hell are you doing here, civilian? You following me around now?”

Oh wow. He’s so drunk.

“In your dreams.”

She doesn’t like the look on his face; doesn’t trust what drunk Bradley might spit out next in a public setting, so Nora brings them back to more even ground, summarizing everything with a short and sweet, “I’m doing Charlie a favor” that is more or less true. Gives him the barest rundown of her past 48 hours, all too aware of the four Naval aviators standing within earshot, shooting her curious glances and waiting for an introduction.

“It’s your turn now.”

“We were here on a special detachment. Eight months ago. Top secret shit,” Bradley offers in an oh so serious tone. All of his concentration seems to go towards hiding a smile. It’s given away by the obvious twitch of his mustache, dampening the effect slightly. “I can’t talk about it, or Cyclone will shoot me out of an airlock.”

“We’re on the ground, Rooster.”

“Semantics, Payback. He will take me up into the atmosphere in an F-18 just to shoot me into space. And then, probably like, come down here and have one black coffee in victory. Happy now?”

Nora offers, “I actually have some security clearance.”

Some was probably an exaggeration. Charlie set her up with a director who needed an assistant, back when Nora really needed another project under her belt to build her portfolio. Lightly sensitive, all for internal use, of course.

“No shit. Aren’t you special?”

Drenched in sarcasm, but Bradshaw is looking at her over the edge of his pint glass with a hint of something else in his brown eyes.

Nope. No. Not going there tonight.

“Now, Bradshaw.” She delivers a light slap to his chest, and Bradley looks down, amused. It’s a little more familiar than Nora was going for. She probably didn’t need another drink. “When are you going to stop being rude and introduce me?”

His arm settles over her shoulders, swiveling her like a Hard Deck barstool to face the rest of the group. They go down the line, one by one. Call signs, then their first and last names, upon request because Nora refuses to call a bunch of grown men things like Rooster and Fanboy. Phoenix is actually a damn cool name.

Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob.

Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, and Bob again.

“And Hangman,” Jake finishes, a pronounced twang in his voice that Nora didn’t notice before. She was missing the accents earlier, wasn’t she? “We met at a little spot not far from here. I was the devastatingly handsome man buying you a drink.”

“Sorry,” Nora shoots back, all calm and collected. “I don’t think I know a Hangman. Doesn’t sound like a real name to me.”

A muscle twitches in his cheek. “Jake.”

“It’s all coming back now.” And Nora doesn’t mean for it to come out so quiet, so intimate. “Hi Jake.”

He flashes her a dimpled grin, all soft edges. “Hi Nora.”

It’s so damn charming that Nora has to bite back an unbidden smile, but with the high-speed attention of an F-18 pilot, Jake catches it, the smug son of a bitch. He lifts his beer to his mouth and shoots her a heated look that curls her toes inside her boots.

“So,” Phoenix interjects, glancing between them with an all too knowing look that makes Nora flush. “Who is up for another round of pool?”

She should’ve stuck to her original plan, which would have seen her leave over an hour ago. Already curled up under the sheets for a long, much-needed sleep by now.

But Nora is having too much fun, sitting on a barstool near the pool table, watching the game and listening to them trade insults and stories (just the non-classified ones, of course) back and forth. All of them seem to know each other well, and Nora learns early on that Captain Mitchell recruited them for this special top-secret detachment a few months back.

“We’re still here under Maverick as an actual squadron now. We’re… I’m sorry, I’m not exactly sure what I can and can’t tell you,” Bob explains, cutting himself off with a sheepish expression. He is damn cute, clean-shaven and baby-faced. Easygoing. He reminds her a little of a duckling, jabs rolling off his back like water. “You can ask Maverick on Monday. Are you just following him around with a camera or…?”

She gives him the quick run-down, well aware that the Daggers are all within earshot now, not even pretending not to eavesdrop on the conversation. “It will probably be a good bit of interviews and additional footage. It’s not just about Captain Mitchell. I’ll be focusing on the whole team.”

“We’ll probably be seeing a lot of you then.”

It is a perfectly nonchalant observation, but Nora’s heart does a stuttered thump-thump in her chest, the exact same realization piercing through her intoxicated brain way too late. If Maverick is their CO, then Bob is on the team that Nora will be profiling in the feature. All of them are. Which means...

She will be seeing them. Probably every single day.

Nora manages to get out an even, “I guess so.”

She remembers the cardboard box of files, sitting unopened next to her overturned suitcase, and wants to bang her head against a wall. Instead, Nora washes down the overwhelming sense of uh oh with a too-quick gulp of her drink. Green eyes burn against the side of her face, stinging like the bourbon in her nostrils.

Natasha drops onto the next barstool over, providing the perfect distraction from her thoughts. She’s just landed an impressive sequence of shots against Mickey and Reuben, who now stand staring down at the table, hands on hips in identical stances of contemplation.

“I follow you on Instagram,” Natasha admits, snagging her beer bottle from a nearby table and waving off the popcorn that Bob offers her. “And I have to tell you. I have invited these idiots over to watch documentaries with me more times than I can even remember. Tried different topics too. Bob is the only one who ever comes over. Don’t let them convince you otherwise.”

“Oh, I won’t. I can smell a fraud a mile away,” Nora reassures, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes to match the other woman, “but I, for one, would love an invitation to watch a documentary with you. Make it a weekly thing while I’m here.”

And Natasha grins wide enough to inspire warm and fuzzy feelings in her chest. Is this what budding friendship felt like? She has been on the move so much lately. She’d almost forgotten.

“Nora is my friend, Phoenix,” Bradley cuts in, sunglasses sliding further and further down his nose. His large hand comes up to deliver a playful push to the other woman’s shoulder. “Stop trying to steal her away from me. Get your own friend.”

“We’re friends now, are we, Bradshaw?” Nora can’t help her laugh, slightly mocking, light enough not to be mistaken as rejection. “I haven’t seen you in like… five years. You probably don’t even know my birthday.”

He pouts. “Phoenix doesn’t know your birthday either.”

“It’s in August. She posted about it on her Instagram.”

“Go away, Phoenix,” Bradley reaches across her again to push at Natasha harder. He loses his balance a little bit and nearly topples into Nora’s lap, only caught by Phoenix shoving against his shoulder. “Don’t let her do this, Rogers. You’re breaking my heart here.”

“You’re drunk,” Nora giggles, an honest to god giggle, only reserved for drunk Nora. Sober Nora laughs. Drunk Nora giggles. It’s usually a sign to call it a night. “You’re drunk, and I think… I think I might be drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk.”

Nice. Real professional. Getting drunk on the night before her first day and with none other than the only team of pilots on North Island that she is guaranteed to see after tonight.

“Oh no….” Nora whispers through another giggle, and with a hand that feels disconnected from her arm, reaches up and pushes Bradley’s sunglasses back up his nose. His grin turns wolfish and… “I think I need to go home.”

“Or…”

“I can take you. Where’re you staying?”

Jake pulls his keys out of his pocket and dangles them from a finger, while Bradley straightens, with sudden coordination, to his full height. Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha has paused mid-sip, watching with unadulterated interest, like Rooster and Hangman were the most interesting thing on television. Bob offers her the popcorn again, and Natasha takes a handful.

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I stopped an hour ago, and I only had two.”

“She doesn’t know you.”

“Did you not just say you haven’t seen her in five years?”

“She’s not going home with you.”

“Jesus Christ…” Jake scrubs a hand over his face, his growing irritation plain. “It’s a ride home, not an invitation to bed. You’d rather put her in a cab with a stranger than have me drive her home? What’s your problem?”

“My problem is – ”

Well. This is… rapidly descending into a testosterone fest.

She can feel a dull ache developing in her temple, a heaviness to her lids that is becoming harder to ignore. She needs a strong painkiller, about three and a half glasses of water, and a bed. Preferably tonight.

“Alright, I’m calling an Uber.”

She reaches for her phone, and Jake raises a placating hand.

“Don’t waste money on an Uber. I’ll take you home,” Jake repeats, looking pained, and then, Bradley Bradshaw opens his mouth and takes a big breath, gearing up to restart this idiotic argument.

“Bradshaw, I swear…” Nora presses her fingers to her forehead and closes her eyes. “In about five minutes, I might sleep on that pool table, so please, I will take what I can get. I’m staying at…” Did Warlock ever give her the address? Goddammit. “It’s… It’s like a blue apartment building next to the beach. It’s not far from here. Know what I’m talking about please.”

Exhaustion makes her blunt, but Jake looks amused again.. More amused than Nora would give herself credit for inspiring with her drunken rambles.

“I know it. We all live there.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Oh. Great.”

She really will see them every day, even on her days off.

Something flashes across Bradley’s face, too quick for her to clock it, but Nora is focused on putting hands on her phone, wallet, and keys. Hoisting her bag onto her arm.

“Well, I’ll come with you.”

“Rooster. Seriously?”

“No, I should probably call it a night too, and I caught a ride with Phoenix here anyway. I’ll come back with you guys.”

Jake and Bradley share a long stare-down that Nora is too tired to even process. It is some sort of telepathic conversation that must be exclusive to Top Gun graduates, or a silent dick-measuring contest. One of the two.

“Oh,” Phoenix observes, tossing another piece of popcorn in her mouth. “This’ll be interesting.”

Yeah, Nora thinks. It’ll be something alright.

It is a short ride back to the apartments. Bradley hums the words to ‘Great Balls of Fire’ under his breath the whole time, over and over in an unending loop, while Nora presses her forehead to the window, breath fogging the glass with the late night temperatures, and closes her eyes.

It does little to alleviate the weight of Jake’s gaze, dashing off the rearview mirror at every red light. He casts a sideways glance at Bradley, then opens his mouth to say something, but then Nora’s eyelids flutter closed and Jake remains silent, reaching for the radio knob to turn the volume down.

His truck finally rounds the last bend in the road and pulls into the lot, and Nora is damn near crawling out of her skin. She drank two full glasses of water at the bar before leaving. She isn’t buzzed enough at this point to blame the heady warmth on the alcohol. It’s him.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” Jake expertly steers the truck, one-handed, into a spot along the front row of apartments. She can see her door from here, spotlighted under a second-floor flood light like a safe haven. “Please keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle until I’ve come to a full and complete…”

He’s barely tapped the brakes when Nora mumbles a good night and makes a run for the staircase.

“Alright then,” Jake calls after her through his open window, accent thick from drowsiness. “Good night to you too, sweetheart.”

She shuts her door on his raspy chuckle.

It echoes in her ears all the same, even after splashing freezing cold water on her neck, stripping off her clothes, and climbing into the bed with the slightly scratchy sheets. Lingers, like the brush of his fingertips down the side of her neck.

Nora heaves a sigh in the blue dark. “Goddammit.”

end note: likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. and if you have thoughts and feelings, please shout in my asks or my messages. i'd love to hear from you!

read the next chapter!

#am sweating posting this #so please tell me what you think #fic: baby i'm high octane #hangman x oc #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x nora rogers #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick fic #laracrofted writes

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e17omm · 1 month

Text

The value of the Threat of Death. A Songque example.

This will be a long post covering what I like about the Threat of Death, and why I think that Hoyo has completely and utterly destroyed that threat while continuing trying to use that to less and less success over and over again.

This will cover what I like, dont like, and regarding if a story even needs the Threat of Death or not.

Some spoilers for: Honkai Impact 3rd. Genshin Impact. Honkai Star Rail. That time I got reincarnated as a Slime. Code Geass. Lord of the Rings. The Incredibles.

Lets start with what I consider as "the Threat of Death"

The Threat of Death is when I feel tension and fear that I character can die. This is the strongest when another important character has already died prematurely to the completion of their arc (aka, "I lived my entire life. My whole purpose is to die at this moment" isnt a "Threat of Death" moment.)

For example: Himeko (HI3). After Himeko's death, Kiana putting a loaded gun to her own head with the intention to shoot has made everyone I've seen (including myself) hold their breath. Because the Threat of Death is real and fresh and Kiana might actually just shoot herself.

Another good example is Songque (in isolation). When she thinks she is ready to sacrifice herself, only to start panicing and realising that she could still have a long life ahead of herself. There is so much she still hasnt done! The Threat of Death is strong. Songque is possibly mere moments away from having her life taken away and she herself is realising more and more how much living means to her.

That is good examples that strengthens the Threat of Death, because it feels like that character might be moments away from their certain, early, death.

What are bad examples?

A character previously not in a scene suddenly appearing and saving a character. Genshin Impact does this the worst.

Xiao in the Chasm sacrifices himself in order to push everyone else back into reality. Letting himself be grabbed by the strange space they were in. But suddenly! Zhongli was in the area and he uses his powers to bring Xiao back into real space. Now, while its reasonable to understand that Zhongli could do that, in isolation to just that scene, Zhongli is a Deus Ex Machina that comes out of nowhere to save Xiao.

Another example is Navia in pretty much the same exact situation. The bridge collapses beneath her feet and she plummets into the Primordial Sea and is being absorbed by it. But suddenly! Neuvillette appears and pulls her out. And again, he was not previously in the scene. And again, it is reasonable to assume that Neuvillette could save someone from the Primordial Sea. But in isolation he comes out of nowhere to save Navia.

Then we have Firefly, who is depicted as if she is impaled and in great pain and we are left to assume that she died for an entire patch. Unlike the other two bad examples, this one is a cliffhanger. And the solution? Ah no, the thing that stabs, impales, and kills people - that's actually just how it transports people to another area.

All of these examples diminish the Threat of Death by showing characters in situations that should result in their death, and then just saying that they didnt actually die.

A character can just come out of nowhere to save the day, or the "death" is not actually a death, even if it is 100% depicted as killing off a character.

Songque is also an example that diminishes the Threat of Death, but I'll get back to that later.

Making the Threat of Death feel real isnt even necessarily moments that kills of characters, but rather the moment right before a possible death.

Diminishing the Threat of Death usually involves characters in situations where they would have realistically died, or someone inexplicably comes out of nowhere to save them, or their death is straight up undone.

Now;

Does a story need the Threat of Death to have stakes?

I would say "No."

Lets look at That time I got reincarnated as a Slime. Its a pretty chill anime. Basically the entirety of the first season is just Rimuru building up a little town of his friends. He is incredibly overpowered and he can make all his friends more powerful as well. When facing the Orc Lord, the only tension is if Rimuru and co' can get there in time before the orcs destroys a bunch of stuff.

In season 2 however... Like 300 monsters dies. They get slaughtered. They were weakened stripping them of how powerful they had become to where normal humans can run them down.

Aaand almost right away, as soon as we and Rimuru learns of the massacre, we get a story of how someone else was able to bring back the ones closest to her back to life. And the story immediately goes to working towards reviving everyone that died.

But while we get low chances of success, the story never paints it as an uncertainty. They only have 3.14% chance to succeed, but everyone is optimistic about making it work. So we aren't really worried as viewers either if they are going to be revived or not.

Lets look at something else. The Incredibles.

I would not say The Incredibles has much in terms of the Threat of Death. Sure we hear about a bunch of people dying, and we even see some corpses. But did anyone ever believe the family of superheroes would die? I didnt and I dont think the movie is meant to make it feel that way.

Yet the finale isnt boring even if we dont doubt that they'll find a way to stop the big bad robot.

Because they are unsure how to do it and if they are even strong enough to stop it. The tension comes from how they will stop it, rather than if they will stop it.

I want to look at the Lord of the Rings next.

Gandalf dies and its a big emotional moment that last for SEVERAL minutes, and Gandalf remains missing until the next movie with no hint of being alive until he comes out of nowhere and reintroduces himself.

This actually harms his "death" scene. Quite a lot actually. It doesnt make it that impactful on rewatches. But this doesnt really hurt the Threat of Death either. Why? Because its Gandalf the Gray. And now he wears white and is Gandalf the White.

Who else is a wizard that wears white? Sauroman. And they are the only wizards in the story. This does 2 things for the Threat of Death. 1; it might be that wizards can only "die" once. They go from Gray to White wizards. Maybe White wizards cant come back to life after dying. We dont know that. And 2; no other person that dies comes back to life. Its only Gandalf, who also insinuates that Sauroman has also died once by association of them both wearing white.

Gandalf's death and revival is possibly a one-time exception specific to wizards.

Onto Code Geass next: its a futuristic war anime. It has a lot of death. But did anyone really fear for Lelouch's life, like, ever? Or Suzaku's or Kallen's lives after the first like 2 or 3 episodes?

And yet it doesnt feel like they are immortal. They get shocked, lose their shit, a lot of people close to them die, they get injured and someone could just come up and stab them and I'd believe they would die from that.

Because the story doesnt constantly throw them into situations where they are in mortal danger (outside of being combatants in a war). No one gets shot in the heart and then comes back a few episodes later. Suzaku doesnt die and Lelouch grieves for his lost friend. No one dies or is depicted to die only to show up half a season later.

Except Jeremiah Gottwald. He's just built different.

But he starts off as a side-character that gets turned into a joke character and then turns into a side antagonist and then into a supporting protagonist through the repeated augmentations he goes through.

And he never explicitly dies. He just collapses and is then off-screen for half a season.

But for the main cast, over 50 episodes, they are rarely put in sitations where they would die. Code Geass keeps the Threat of Death by not constantly putting the main characters into situations where they realistically would die.

But finally, we can go back to Hoyo.

What is so bad with Hoyo not killing characters any more?

The way they do it. And I have a little Songque here to perfectly show what I mean.

So, Songque defeats Perception and is then completely missing, and the only assumption anyone can have is that Songque died when she threw the Sun at Perception. That is reasonable.

We have 15+ minutes of characters missing Songque and mourning her death. Its all great.

And then she returns. She just woke up and is alive and happy.

Now, the argument for why this is fine: Its a perfect ending meant for Entropy/Dreamseeker to "beat the level" and get the best possible ending while that ending wasnt real.

My counterargument: Then why was Songque dead at all? Why was she missing at all?

What would have changed if Songque was alive and happy from the get-go after defeating Perception?

Story wise? Not a lot. We could still meet everyone now after the shadow calamity has been solved and Songque could be there by our side from the get-go. And then have the twist that it was actually all fake.

The big difference is the Threat of Death would remain. By not killing Songque and thus not bringing her back from the dead, the Threat of Death is actually strengthened. Or at the very least maintained.

By not killing at all, you can strengthen or at least maintain the Threat of Death.

Instead of having Zhongli come out of nowhere, have Zhongli at the start of the quest investigating the Chasm from the surface. That way we know he is around.

Instead of having Neuvillette come out of nowhere, just have him with our group. That way we know he is around.

Instead of having Firefly die in our face, just imply it. Have us follow her signal and make it disappear right as we turn around a corner and have Dormancy float away from where Firefly last was at.

Instead of acting like Misteln will be dead for a long time, just... just dont. Or dont bring her back so soon. She really wasnt needed for the fight against Sa they could have easily just had Hua fight it.

Instead of killing off Songque... just dont? Those 15 minutes of "Songque is dead" didnt do anything for the story. Its not long enough to have a lasting impact and how all the characters would feel about her death is undone because she is back to life.

"But it was all a simulation!!" that just adds to my points:

Why wasn't Songque just, alive? What did bringing her back to life add?

What did it add, but another moment where a character overcomes death, thus diminishing the Threat of Death.

A story does not need death to be tense. It does not need death to have the Threat of Death.

But if you constantly put characters into serious situations and into situations where they are depicted to die or just straight up "dies", with the purpose of making me feel bad or sorry or mourn them or wish they wont die.

If you keep showing characters not dying, then all those moments of "oooh no! this character is about to die!" will stop having meaning.

You can write a story without death in it. But then dont put characters into situations where it looks like they are about to die.

Songque's scene where she realises how much she still has to live for - that is an excellent scene with a strong sense of the impeding Threat of Death. In isolation.

Because I was not surprised at all when Baiji didnt go through with it and killed her. I did not react (except for a sigh) when Songque returned from the dead because that has become the norm.

Because Hoyo has destroyed the Threat of Death by repeatedly and consistently having characters surpass Death in their Honkaiverse games.

Yet they keep having those moments.

They keep writing scenes that would be incredible strong with the Threat of Death, but by repeatedly not acting on those scenes, it diminishes the Threat of Death for the next one.

You can have Xiao be saved by Zhongli coming out of nowhere in the Chasm, but then dont do the same for Navia.

If that Kiana scene happened today, after what is it, 6 years of Hoyo doing "this character is about to die!" and not acting on it. If Kiana put a loaded gun to her own head, a tear rolling down her cheek as she tightens the finger on the trigger - if that happened today, I would not believe for a single moment that she would pull the trigger.

When I saw that scene for the first time, I though, "No. She wouldnt." in disbelief. Was she really about to pull the trigger? It wouldnt be pointless, she would take out the Herrscher of the Void as well as herself. Has she reached that desperate point where shooting herself seems like the only option forward to safeguard the rest of the world from the Herrscher of the Void?

But if I saw that scene now, I'd raise my eyebrows and then move on as Fu Hua shows up 3 seconds later.

Because Hoyo has overused the Threat of Death for 6 years without acting on it.

Keep the Threat of Death passive by not constantly having characters overcome it, or dont have the Threat of Death at all.

That time I got reincarnated as a Slime doesnt have the Threat of Death at all any more and I'd say its better because of it. All the characters are overpowered and its more about how they live their lives and the trouble that comes their way rather than if they will survive or not.

Hoyo keeps asking "are they going to survive or not?" and the answer for six years has always been "yes they will" and by now I want them to stop asking it. Or for the answer to be "no, they wont survive."

#honkai impact #long post

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kyngyt · 6 months

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Murder Drone EP 7 Spoilers

ABSOLUTELY SHOCKED, SPEECHLESS

TOO MUCH INFORMATION

It's 3 AM I can't think straight

V is probably not alive :( my hopes are just hopes

So uh. Disassembly Drones sort of caused human genocide, not sure if it was Earth or other planet... At least they were eating them?... I guess they just need any kind of organic matter to exist/cool down, blood or oil or flesh.

Didn't make much SS since I woke up only to watch EP buttt

Very confused by this... Is name being lit up meant that they're "alive"?... There's too much material for theories.

I suppose Yeva is not alive, but not sure....

Very lost about the whole cathedral thing in a flashback, like. Did humans really tried to exorcise Solver??? Wth was happening

And awh Nori and Yeva caring about each other :>

NORIIII AAAA, so that's why you was so called "core" Awh :(

Like Mother Like Daughter

BUT NORI, FINALLY YOU'RE HERE, EVEN IF IT WAS FOR LIKE 15 MINS

Rip Doll, at least we found out what was your goal 😔 poor thing

N CUT OFF TESSA'S HEAD SO EASILY???

THE WHOLE REVEAL OF CEN/TESSA/SOLVER/ WHATEVER THIS AMALGAMATION IS.

IT LOOKS SO GROSS HELL, DRONE(Cyn?) JUST GOT HUMAN SKIN, LIMBS AND FLESH OVER HER METAL BODY?? WHAT THE FUCK, PLASTIC HANDST STICKING OUT OF FLESH ONES, BLOOD DRIPPING FROM WHERE METAL NECK CONNECTS TO SKIN COVERED HEAD??? THE FACE 😨, if it wasn't for style, that's some good nightmare fuel.

So Original Tessa is dead?... But in files she was only missing an arm... I guess it was just made up by Solver to make N believe "Tessa" :(

WHAT J DID AT THE SPIRE, she definitely destroyed the ship, BUT WHY??

DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT SOLVER!TESSA????

KHAN, LIZZY & THAD. YEEESSSS THEY LOOK SO FRICKING COOL, LET'S GOOO

I bet J got flashbacks when she saw rail gun

Uzi threw Nori into the hole and then fell herself. Maybe Nori haven't got killed by solver when amalgamation jumped in. Maybe daughter and mother could have a conversation at least some kind of...

Also

She got thrown to the space? I see moons in the right corner.

It definitely the same part that exploded when core collapsed.

I think I'll go rest now. It will leave me thinking and theorizing for days.

#murder drones ep 7 #murder drones episode 7 #md ep 7 #md episode 7 #murder drones spoilers

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sundropstories · 1 year

Text

My Mission

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky is no longer an Avenger, and he is now y/n and Peters mission after he's been on the run.

Warnings: some mentions of violence

˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊

"Alright Peter here's your ear piece." I say popping it into his left ear while he buttons up his suit. Trying to move around in the back of our ride is extremely frustrating but we only get word of where he's at last minute.

"This thing on." Peter says testing his ear piece. "Yes I can hear you, y/n? You there?"

"Yeah" i say struggling to slip these unnecessarily uncomfortable heels on. "Is it Nat?" Peter says. "It is" she responds.

—

We arrive at the gala before getting out of the car I turn to Peter. "How do I look?" I say as I reach over to fix his hair. "Rich, me?" "Rich." We smile at each other and make our way into the venue locking arms.

Peter and I exclusively work on undercover missions. Peter, because no one knows his real identity, and me, because I'm fucking great at it. Usually.

I started being an avenger a few years ago. Shortly after though Bucky and Sam found out some kids were trying to recreate the serum. Bucky flipped and ran to find them. We haven't heard much about it since, and we've just been trying to find him. Bucky's supposedly going to be here.

—

"Alright I'll go upstairs you look on this floor. Sound good?" I say in a low voice almost a whisper. "Sounds good." He leans down and kisses my cheek. To make it seem as if we're a couple.

—

Ughh..my feet are killing me. I slide my heels off after reaching the top of the stairs, and kick em behind a pillar.

I don't even know why they make me dress all the way up. How the hell does one fight in heels and a dress.

I'm so lost complaining in my thoughts, and aimlessly following the directions Nat is giving me. I don't even notice him till I'm being pulled onto a balcony.

"Oh y/n you don't need this" Bucky says taking out my ear piece . I can hear the faint voice of Nat yelling through it. He throws it on the floor crushing it with his boot.

I just stare up at him like an idiot. His body caging me against the door. "You look amazing. Makes me wanna keep running just to see you come to these things all dressed up to find me." He smirks his hand holding my face.

"I..t-thank you." The red creeping onto my face. We've never been this close before and he smells so...nice. He lets out a low chuckle.

His face inches closer till his lips capture mine. His metal hand holding me onto the door whilst the other trace's my curves. Teasing every inch. He pulls away. "God I've wanted to do that for so long." He says just above a whisper.

I smirk "wanna do it again." He waste's no time crashing his lips back onto mine. This time a bit more aggressive. My hands against his chest. I turn us so he's now against the door.

He smirks "I'm sorry" he says in between kisses. "For what." I let out a breathy giggle a little confused. In a second the door opens as he's pushing me back and locking me outside.

—

"Fuck!" I yelled. You're joking. I now realize he also took my ways of communication. I look over the balcony checking my surroundings. Okay if I jump I might only break like a leg or something. When I look over to my left and see that there is an open window just a bit over.

—

"I Really wish I had shoes right about now." I mumble to myself while I practically rip the dress off my body. Thank you me for putting jeans and a tank top on under that. I take my gun out of my dress pocket and tuck it into my jeans.

I kick my leg over the edge taking in a deep breath. "Shit shit shit shit shit" I say to myself realizing how high up I am. Getting my balance I kick my other leg over leaning against the railing holding on for my dear life.

It's okay I got this. I squeeze my eyes shut as I let out a breath. Opening my eyes again I begin shuffling to the window. Leaning my weight against the cold wall the whole time. When I make it to the window I basically jump inside.

My heart practically bursting out of my chest. I run down the hall searching for either Bucky or Peter.

I spot Peter and make my way to him.

"Peter" I say out of breath. "Oh my god! Where were you? I've been looking everywhere." He says in a panicked tone.

"Apparently not good enough. I was locked out on a balcony." I say clearly pissed. "Sorry. Well I haven't found him I don't think he's here." He says.

"No he's here. I saw him. I had him." I say when suddenly I spot him walking out the door to leave. "There!" I say and run towards him.

—

Finally catching up to him when he gets to his car. "James!" I yell approaching him. "Y/n. Doll, how'd you get out." He says turning around his hands up.

Now pointing my gun at him. "I really, really hate you." I say. The gun now against his chest. "Really? Is that how you kiss all the people you hate" he says a taunting smile on his stupid, gorgeous face. "Because if so hate me all you want." He says a laugh leaving his dumb, soft lips.

I stay silent just staring up at him, anger practically radiating off of me. Peter comes running behind me and quickly webs the car doors shut. Keeping Bucky from getting away.

Bucky drags his hand across his face, clenching his jaw, visibly frustrated. "Just do it." He says. I stare. "Shoot me." His voice lower. He smirks. I stare.

Stupid boy. Thinks he knows what I'm doing.

"Okay" I say. His eyes widen as I lift the gun and smack him across the face with it. Got him.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x reader

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riality-check · 2 years

Text

part 1 part 2 part 3

The first thing Nancy does every morning is check the List.

It’s in her planner, which has been her Bible since she was thirteen and finally managed to weasel her way out of going to church every Sunday. Her planner contains everything she needs to be a person: tasks, phone numbers, addresses, plans if shit goes off the rails again.

And it also has the List.

The List is a sticky note she writes out the night before and slaps on the cover of the planner to check in the morning. It’s got her to-do’s, long and short term, organized by priority.

She reads through the whole thing, nodding as she remembers how she has to call Hopper and follow through on her plans with Robin later, then circles back to the top, where she wrote down the request Eddie had for her yesterday.

He asked her for a ride home from the hospital. Her. He said something about Wayne working and didn’t have an answer when she asked why Steve couldn’t do it.

(That should have clued her in.)

But what was she going to do? Say no? Why would she, when no one else needed the car and she didn’t have anything else to do?

She and Eddie weren’t even on a first name basis, not really. He only ever called her “Wheeler,” which wasn’t bad, necessarily, but she thought it was weird that he asked her for a ride before he ever called her “Nancy.”

She pulled the car up in front of the trailer and moved to get out so she could help Eddie when he said, “Wait.”

“What?”

He grimaced. “I have to ask you two favors.”

“Shoot,” she said, and his face fell for a second before he fixed it.

The first favor was easy enough. Vecna had gotten into Eddie’s head, made him live through vision after vision until he couldn’t tell right from left and up from down. So, Eddie asked Nancy to be a second set of everything - not just eyes - because sometimes he couldn’t trust his ears, either.

Easy enough. She could do that.

The second favor is the one Nancy wrote at the very top of the List.

Wheeler, I hate to ask you this, but you’re the only one I can ask for it. If he gets back inside my head, please-

I need you to shoot me.

She wrote it down in code so her mom wouldn’t snoop and read such a request.

SMIN.

Slay monsters, if needed.

Even with Vecna gone (Is he really gone? Is it ever really over?), it seems like it’s still her top priority.

But it’s not like she wouldn’t do it. Nancy might be a bitch, has known that since she was eight and got called it to her face for the first time, but she’ll always help people, especially when she’s the only one who can do it.

Eddie needs her to be able to do this. It’s no trouble. Her guns are in her shoebox and her ammunition is taped to the bottom of her nightstand.

It shouldn’t be any trouble, but the more Nancy thinks about it, the more it might start to become a problem.

She isn’t Eddie’s second set anymore, not since he and Steve figured their shit out and Eddie not-so-gently told her that he needed someone a little more… delicate to do that for him.

That stung a little bit, but he wasn’t wrong. Nancy’s always been a little too blunt, and there were times that she definitely could have been a little more tactful.

(She just hopes Steve doesn’t get those blinders he gets when he’s talking to someone he loves. Eddie needs honesty in those moments, and sometimes action, too. Steve is capable, but he’s kind, first. Always has been.

Maybe only her mind works like this, but sometimes, she thinks that can be a problem.)

It’s fine. It gives her more space to focus on the second favor. Which has gotten a lot harder.

Somewhere along the way, Eddie became her friend. Probably one of her best friends, really. They talked about books and fought about music and dreamed of getting out of Hawkins, and somehow, Eddie “The Freak” Munson wormed his way into her life and made it clear that he planned to stay there.

She has no intentions of kicking him out.

Somewhere along the way, “Wheeler” became “Nancy” became “Nancy Drew” became “Drew.” It’s been a long time since Nancy’s had a nickname that personalized. She forgot how much she missed it.

She tries not to think about it too hard. If Eddie has to cash in, she needs to compartmentalize.

Her guns are in her shoebox and her ammunition is taped to the bottom of her nightstand. If Eddie has to cash in, she can do it.

She has to. Even if it’s him. Even if it’s the person she talked down from panic attacks and went to the movies with and let see her cry for the first time in three years and sat on the roof, tipsy, and stargazed with.

She has to. Even if it’s Eddie.

part 5 final part

ao3 link

tag list: @ashwagandalf @novelnovella @ladyapplejackdnd @silentiumdelirium @resident-gay-bitch @brassreign @starrystevie @henderdads @greyhoundsgirl @thegingerrapunzel @seths-rogens @questionablequeeries @miss-hit @edmunsn @readbythestarlight @scooby-dum86 @deehellcat @missarte-beltane @theysherobinbuckley

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 1 year

Text

ofmd s2e3 rewatch where i pause to jot down my thoughts and other random shit

squeezing this one in riiiiight before the next two eps drop lol. anyway these posts are about me processing these episodes and if you want to read them then that's cool too. but fair warning this is gonna be a fucking mess.

s2e1, s2e2, s2e3, s2e4, s2e5, s2e6, s2e7, s2e8

show opens on zheng leading a raid and INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH. this might be the first time we've seen a raid where like. the background music is kinda moody. and what's odd is that it has like the same level of comedically over-the-top violence and characters just having a casual conversation as like, the e5 cold open. but there's sad piano and strings doing tremolo in the background. i have no idea what this means.

god. zheng is so fucking hot.

i love olu's "no, no, sorry, bruv." and the FACE HE MAKES AFTER!!! so good

olu's a feminist

ZHENG IS SO FUCKING HOT

~champers?~ stede you are such a dork. i need to pinch ur cheeks.

yeah fuck the english!!

zheng saying "everyone's cracking down on the little guy" makes me wonder if the show is gonna do anything abt how the end of the golden age of piracy was like. a year off. which i only know from reading a few fics where the authors incorporated that into the plot. and there was the one trailer where we see zheng in jackie's bar while stede's giving everyone a speech so yknow what that might be where all this is going. big pirate battle at the end of the season, right?

another thing ive been wondering abt tho is just how much is this show gonna completely fuck with history. because like. is zheng yi sao gonna conquer the fucking caribbean. are we just going completely off the rails re: historical accuracy and inventing entire major historical events?? like crocs and pinocchio and pirates from different historical periods all existing at the same time and in the same place is one thing but if the characters like. overthrow england. then ofmd just straight-up exists in an alternate timeline at that point.

stede "the gentleman pirate kills with kindness" bonnet being so impressed with zheng is so cute to me tho

fhsjkgdhfushl oh my god when zheng snaps her fingers and stede hurries to refill drinks the other captain guy grins and flashes finger guns at stede and this is SO fucking funny to me

zheng being like "noooo it's stupid teehee" tucking her hair behind her ears ALSO very funny to me

whose job was it to make the letter N out of caviar for the title card in this episode bc it looks fantastic. got little serifs and everything

stede taking his towel duties VERY seriously and just. dropping them on zheng's desk for no reason. even olu is like "stede what the fuck are you doing"

obsessed with the running gag of stede being like "i always say that!" and other characters being like "no you fucking dont"

stede having zero impulse control and seeing the abacus and just being like "hey what the hell is this thing" and shaking it around. me too, king.

i wont lie tho part of me wonders if stede like. going overboard with towel duty and messing shit up is on purpose. like is he playing dumb so zheng lets her guard down just in case he needs her to think he's completely helpless?? bc at the end of the episode he does get one over on her and i assume it's partly bc she underestimated him. or am i just reading too much into it lol.

but idk it's weird that olu's like "ok stede zheng is busy" and stede's just like "im gonna shake this thing now teehee"

WAIT ALSO backtracking a bit. why were stede and olu shadowing zheng at the beginning of the episode. i mean olu i get, it's bc she has a crush on him (who can blame her) but what's the in-universe justification for zheng being like "yeah alright white boy u can come too"

stede's gay little run out of the room. GO GET YOUR MAN!!!!

awww the crew all look so sad at how messed up the ship is :( THAT'S THEIR HOME!!!

I KNEW THE GNOSSIENNE NO. 5 WAS GONNA KILL ME WHEN IT SHOWED UP IN S2 BUT THIS WAS TOO FUCKING MUCH. THE WAY IT TRAILS OFF AND WE JUST HEAR THE WIND ECHOING. FUCKINGGGGG CLAWING AT MY EYES

i love that there's knife stuck in the painting guy's dick. stupid gags like that never get old. also if that was izzy it's extra funny like what the fuck did he even do that for

also have we ever actually seen the outside of the door to stede's cabin like this before??? we saw those dutch guys get chased down this hallway but idk about. the door.

the crew is too busy feasting on raw bird like they're extras in a zombie film to hear stede calling for ed. love that.

the two people that the camera focuses on individually are jim and izzy. makes sense bc these are the characters who i think are gonna have the most important shit going on re: the fact that they all tried to kill ed.

stede's painfully awkward smile after "um... hi." i mean honestly tho what the fuck else do you say to walking in on this

oh shit jim was totally about to tell stede what happened tho. and then archie interrupted with "oh shit, you're stede?????"

this must be so fucking funny from archie's perspective tho. must've heard so much abt this guy and now she finally gets to meet the main character of the story she stumbled into about a third of the way through. and he's kinda just some blond guy.

stede sounds so defensive too tho when archie's like "i thought you'd be taller, charismatic, muscly" bc god that's exactly what he thinks he should be. i mean ok stede is charismatic in a very unique way but his whole e1 fantasy of having a beard and being all macho and badass was just putting all his insecurities on blast. and now archie is like "this is the guy blackbeard was so fucked up over?? really????"

shoutout to archie saying "got tired" when theyre all saying ed retired

also why was wee john in this shot. like not even just in the shot he's just sitting RIGHT behind stede listening to the whole thing. he doesn't have a single line.

stede rolling his eyes and ignoring izzy is so good. yes king dont take the bait

oh ok wee john was there so that we can see frenchie go over to him and give him a fist bump in the background while stede walks away to stare off into the distance

eddie on tha beach

piggie!

cave! remember when we were all like "CAVE KISS???? ARE THEY GONNA KISS IN THE CAVE??????" it would be funny if this is it for the cave. just off in the distance for one shot. cant actually tell if this is the cave they were posting pictures of last fall tho and idrc enough to try and figure it out

pig's name is ruthie. ed why did your subconscious name the pig ruthie.

why did ed's subconscious make hornigold tell him "open up for the cargo ship" ed your daddy issues are fucking insane

hornigold fully like rubs ed's chest for a second there. kinda a weird choice there.

"last time i saw you, you said you were gonna flay my skin and feed it back to me" man what is it with these pirates and forced autocannibalism, huh? i think getting flayed would hurt more but skin's probably easier to eat than toes so idk which i'd prefer. no i dont know why im pondering this either

smthng abt how this is ed hallucinating this whole bit where hornigold pinches his nose and force-feeds him soup is so funny to me. it's a metaphor for ed dragging himself kicking and screaming to therapy.

frenchie telling fang to stfu scjgdfchjxgk

fucking incredible line delivery from joel fry through the whole "it's quite hot, im burnin up here! should we go and get some coolin' bevvies?" bit. love it.

uhh line break

also bro auntie is dead-on about the guilt. i dont blame the crew at all for what they did but this + the whole bird-eating sequence bro. they all liked ed. they cared abt him. other than archie, they all knew him as a pretty cool person. like BRO im gonna have to make another post abt this but the trauma of like, someone you liked becoming so suicidal that he puts you in increasingly miserable situations hoping you'll snap and kill him and he keeps escalating it until you have no choice but to kill him for your own safety. but you know he was a funny and chill person before this. and you know he only did this bc he wanted to die. dude this shit is fucking heavy.

anyway cut to jimolu lol

bro what IS going on in towels. i love how stede just passes around towels for smelling. is this something people have done literally ever or is this just so we can have chloroform towels at the end of the episode

sorry i know in the last post i was sort of squinting at the bit where olu forgot how to pronounce china but the was he mispronounces eucalyptus is just so satisfying to hear i cant even be mad abt it

awwwwgh u can tell jim was scared to tell olu abt kissing archie

lmaoooo when jim says "i saw her boobs" olu's head WHIPS around and he's like "oh??" all wide-eyed dbhjgkhdfyjsk

naw im sorry this is cute. this is a cute tealoranges scene. yes it's jim telling olu abt how they hooked up with someone else but bro i LOVE relationships with this kind of comfortable discussion abt sex and abt relationships in general. i mean there's a lot more for them to talk about still but in a worse show this wouldve been a whole screaming match. instead we got jim saying "you're kinda the best friend i tell everything to" and joking about boobs and UGH. it's so cute!!!!

it's also so fucking funny tho. "i saw her boobs" "oh?? okay, nice" "both of them" "nope, too much" WHY IS THAT WHERE HE DRAWS THE LINE HFKHSGJKFKKJFHK

also when did jim see archie's boobs tho. like ok realistically they've seen each other in varying stages of undress just bc it's not that big of a ship and there's only so much privacy. but the funnier answer is that after ed kicked them out of the secret room and a few minutes later a gunshot went off (who did the rest of the crew think pulled the trigger, i wonder) and they think izzy's dead probably. and then jim and archie decided this was a good time to hook up.

wait i forgot abt the nebulous amount of time between the mutiny and stede walking in on them all eating a dead bird. who fucking knows how much time that was tho. but they could've hooked up then i guess

GNOSSIENNE NO. 5 PART 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO. IM SOBBING.

the song gets to play out more in this scene and ohhhh baby i missed this piano piece. also stede looks more annoyed than upset. he's just casually yoinking things out of the wall. and then he sees the ones on the ceiling and is like "really, ed?"

i think i said this in the tags of a gifset but izzy says "don't cry, bonnet" when stede's back is to him and i just think it's funny bc stede literally wasnt crying. he just looked kinda pissed off. izzy continues to not understand ed or stede even a little bit.

also i love how the music changes by just playing a minor chord and then there's like a spooky echo and then. no more background music.

i just realized izzy's crutch is literally just a mop he's holding upside down. this is funny to me for some reason

"he was a wild dog and we dealt with him like one" izzy hands racism moments

why does izzy even lie about this. why does he say "no i could never do that" when literally he did. he looked right at ed's face as jim hit it with a fucking cannonball. like. what fucking purpose does lying about this even serve. in what way does that benefit izzy. idgi

also ive heard that apparently ppl think he did this to spare stede or something but 1. why would he not want to specifically torture stede as much as possible 2. this is literally not sparing stede bc stede would spend the rest of his life scouring the entire caribbean hoping to find the island where they dropped ed.

RANDOM fucking idea tho but what if they did maroon him but it was on the island from 1x02. that wouldve been great for ed probably. get therapy from the old guy. have some coconut rum drink. chill out. oh well instead they shoved ed into a secret closet and left him there to die from a traumatic head injury.

hornigold calling ed "bro" was such a dead giveaway for me that this was a dream sequence or whatever. like from trailers and stuff i had already figured that this guy was hornigold and that he was probably a ghost or something but i think i mightve been questioning it a little bit at this point. but yeah anyway ed says "bro" and while obviously we dont know exactly what hornigold was like, he didnt sound like the kind of guy to say "bro"

i do love how hornigold's like "you worried you're insane?" and ed's just like "yeah a little bit!"

hornighost: you gotta move on or blow your brains out. or... we can make some soup. ed: yeah let's do soup.

wait stede told zheng that they marooned ed. and then zheng is like "well it's at least mutiny-adjacent" like no im pretty sure that's literally just a regular mutiny

bro rubio qian is so good at making faces

i love how ed's like "you ever thought about selling these shoes?" like who the fuck is hornigold going to sell them to. where does ed think they are.

OUGH RETURN OF ED'S HAIR ALL UP IN A BUN!!!!

ough... return of ed's trauma :(

ughughghuhguhughughgffffff every time i hear ed's voice in the bathtub scene i want to cryyyyy SOMEONE HUG THIS MAN I SWEAR TO GOD

also hornigold's mouth definitely moves in this shot where ed climbs off his body lol

hnnng... ed arm

oughuhgu and a strand of the wig came out of the bun WHY IS HE SO PRETTYYYYYYYYY

i cant believe for months i had my fingers crossed for the "person A thinks person B is dead" trope with ed hearing about the fuckery but instead i got it THE OTHER WAY AROUND. AAAAAAAAAAAHH

yo is hornigold wearing like. a flag. idk why i just noticed this but there's like a giant metal rung with rope tied through it holding his whole robe-ish situation together. is that a flag

very random thought but i love how tv shows just cut back and forth btwn plots and one plot might basically be one conversation but every time we cut back theyre in a different setting and we dont see how they got there. like the cut from stede walking in on the crew eating a bird to all of them back on zheng's ship eating soup. and now we went from ed yelling "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON" at hornighost's hut and now they're on a beach talking abt what the fuck is going on. why did they go there. who knows. doesnt matter.

ed is so fucking stressed abt being in the gravy basket. poor man is nervously playing with the big stick and trying so hard not to lose his cool.

damn he threw that stick really far tho. good arm.

im sorry but it's SO fucking funny how zheng is trying to seduce olu in this scene and she's like "whats the status of your boatmance is it... ongoing?" *unsheathes sword* like girl that's not seduction that's a full-on threat. i mean it's still hot dgmw but it's unclear what exactly you're going for here

YES STEDEY-BOY

loving the jaunty little escape music

archie and jim holding haaands

stede: you always say you have perfect aim black pete: ive never said that roach: you always say that lucius, throwing his beloved boyfriend under the bus: you said it today

buttons is so fucking loud fhjkhgyejkthfjkhg. ngl i relate tho

obsessed with the noise button makes when he slides across to the Revenge

and they use tea towels to slide over!! god stede really made the most out of his time in towels

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE how olu is the one sitting on the desk with his legs dangling and kicking during this makeout session

also obsessed with how theoretically olu could've seduced zheng out of killing the crew and it's possible that none of this was necessary

wait i literally just realized that they stole the wheel not just so that zheng couldn't follow them but bc the Revenge didnt have one lol

ugh ed's tits look so good what the hell

ed in his head instantly associates the phrase "calico jack" with someone going "WHOOHOO" at the top of their lungs

oughu FUCK i did not fucking realize this but ed is taking hornigold's presence here as confirmation that he's not loveable. earlier hornighost said "you're afraid you're unlovable" but then when he's on the cliff and he's like "you brought me here because you hate yourself" ed is like "im not loveable." ohhhhhh fuck

and then hornigold is like "and you're afraid to do anything about it. but im not" and then throws the rock off the cliff. this is the shittiest part of ed's brain calling him a pussy for not killing himself and telling him he deserves to die. fuuuuuuuuck me.

oh boy okay. ed got yanked off the cliff. stede is heading into the secret room. idk if i even have anything to say about the mermaid sequence like i cant believe this shit is real. fuck. this is a fever dream. they really just... wrote this. filmed it. put rhys darby in a fish tail. FUCK

ok the two things i have to say about this. first: the fucking flashback montage in this sequence makes me stop breathing like every single fucking time. secondly: when theyre face-to-face in ed's mermaid fantasy there's a split second where ed sort of jolts forward a tiny tiny tiny half of an inch. and i have no idea if it's intentional. but it makes me think of how in the "you wear fine things well" scene ed TOTALLY STEPS IN THINKING STEDE'S ABOUT TO KISS HIM.

WRITTEN BY ALYSSA LANE AND ALEX SHERMAN. SHOUTOUT TO THOSE GUYS.

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