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#[She would have operated on J again not too long before this]
vcn-vet · 2 years
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[Continued from here.]
@410oh​:
"Aheh! Only if you really want that. I'm just programmed to check in with folks hanging out near reconstruction sites, y'know? Tensions are high and all that after the whole B2J debacle."
She grips the strap of her crossbody bag tightly. ‘Hanging out’... she worked here. Granted, she was on her way out of work, but...
She was getting too riled up and was too on-edge. Yeah, no shit tensions are high, is what she wants to say. She’s already gritting her teeth at her even saying that acronym. She doesn’t want to disrespect this officer just checking up on her, though...
“I’m... really sorry, officer. I don’t want to be arrested. I have a very, very important patient to fulfill house calls for...” Her walking out of the cybernetics hospital a few moments prior should give a hint to the spry officer before her who definitely knows who she’s talking about.
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writing-in-the-impala · 7 months
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Secret Smokes (Part 14)
Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader
Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.
Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.
Word Count: 2400
A/N: I haven't had time to proofread this one but I wanted to get it out in celebration of it being Remus's birthday today. Happy Birthday Moony.
 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |
Previous Chapter, Part 14, Next Chapter
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The trees outside were becoming greener, and the air a bit warmer. Remus and you would even sometimes take walks outside together to enjoy the sunshine, obviously distanced and acting appropriately. Acting appropriately was beginning to drain you as the honeymoon stages of being with Remus began to wear off.
January was filled with the thrill of being together and sneaking around, you got comfortable in February and now it was March. You were entering your third month of being exclusive, but not being anything, spending evenings together but barely ever sleeping in the same bed. No matter how much you enjoyed it you couldn't hide it was all becoming slightly draining. You longed for a date, to go the theatre like Remus once promised, to go for a walk and hold hands. To kiss in a public space.
"Any plans for the weekend?" You asked Remus as you strolled through the grass in the morning on Friday, you asked in the hope of finally going on a date again.
"I have a meeting with some members of the order, apparently there's rumours of activity between death eaters" He kept his hands firmly in his pockets. "What's your plans?" He looked at you with a gentle look of admiration as he spoke.
"I was thinking you could take me around London?" You asked slightly nervously.
"I'm sorry, not this weekend. There's too many people from the order around right now. Besides we shouldn't speak about this in public." His body was closed off as he looked around and spoke in a hush tone, it used to thrill you the secrecy, but it was beginning to hurt.
"When can we? You promised me the theatre." You said and he smiled gently.
"As soon as possible."
"When's that?" You pushed and Remus shook his head. "When it's less risky."
"Fine can I at least come officially meet Sirius?" You asked.
"I would like nothing more,"
"But?" You interrupted
"But, the order operates out of his house, and there's been more meetings recently, it's not safe for us to be hanging out there." He explained.
"What about your cottage? Or is that too risky too?" You tried your luck.
"That's actually a good idea, but," You rolled your eyes at Remus again. "I need time to make it habitable, it's a mess there. I'll go this weekend and depending on the progress soon we can go together." He explained and you nodded satisfied with getting at least somewhere. He looked around before continuing. "Tomorrow, after my meeting I'd love to see you. If that's okay? Although I don't know what time I will be back it would mean a lot to me if you were free." He almost whispered.
"Of course, if you won't take me out on a date at least we can have one here." You said and he offered a weak smile.
"Now tell me, how's your preparation for exams going?" He changed the subject now speaking in a louder tone and it felt more like spending time with Lupin than Remus. You enjoyed all sides of Remus J Lupin. You enjoyed learning his habits and quirks, you would sit in your DADA lesson and watch him intensely as he would tap his fingers on his wand when he was nervous. You could quite define what was going on between you both, on one hand he was very reserved, he wanted for you to come over to spend time together and then for you to leave, like you were a way for him to have company. On the other hand he was passionate, he talked about his dreams of showing you the world, about how he saw the future it made you feel like maybe you were special to him. You spent the day alone waiting for Remus to come back, every few hours you would walk past his office to find out if he was back yet no sign of him. It was getting late and you were begging to believe he won't come back today and you wasted your evening waiting for him.
Finally around nine pm as you walked back to your dorm from his office you saw him walking in your direction towards his office, you smiled at the sight of him. He was very dressed up in a nice shirt and blazer, he looked like he really cared about his appearance today as he went to the meeting. You didn't really understand why he got so dressed up to see the order or why his "meeting" lasted all Saturday. He greeted you in the corridor with a nod and you turned around walking side by side to his office. "Hello Professor." You said with a playful tone.
"Hi Y/N, I know it's Saturday but do you mind coming to have a quick discussion with me in the office?" He asked with a smirk on his face.
"My pleasure." You said as he held the door open for you and you stepped inside.
"Hello my dear." He said as soon as the door closed and he leaned in to kiss you. "Sorry for running so late, everyone couldn't stop talking I left as soon as I could." He explained as you walked up the stairs to his office.
"You look really nice." You pointed out.
"I've got to impress you, how else would I keep you interested in boring old me." He said, at this moment you clicked the thing you could smell was fire whiskey, he had been drinking.
"Do you often drink at important meetings?" You asked, a sting of jealousy on your tongue.
"Only when they run late," He explained as he poured two drinks and you sat down.
"I waited for you like an idiot all evening." You explained feeling upset by how you ruined your day waiting while he was drinking and dressing up for a meeting.
"I'm sorry, dear, I tried to leave as soon as the meeting finished but everyone wanted to talk, they wanted to talk to me, which rarely happens, you know how I talk and people lose interest well this one time when I wanted them to not listed they did listen. But I wanted to come back to you this whole evening. Anyway we're here now and I can bore you instead of them." He gave you a soft kiss on your cheek as he sat down next to you.
"So tell me about your cottage." You said making yourself comfortable on the couch, with your legs crossed and your drink in hand.
"What do you want to know?" He re-adjusted himself to face you as he sat on the opposite end of the sofa and music played in the background, he had his favourite vinyl on which filled the room with positivity even if your conversations didn't start on a good note.
"I don't know, we always just talk about music and me, I feel like I barely know you."
"I'm an open book."
"That's a lie."
"What do you want to know?" He said gently ignoring your remark.
"Did you grow up there?" You snapped.
"In the cottage? No, god, no." He snapped back instantly looking down at his glass with the last three words.
"So where did you grow up?"
"Everywhere, we moved around a lot because of my condition. Listen Y/N I would rather not talk about this today. Ask me any other day and I'll tell you, today I want to listen to some records, hold you in my arms and sip some expensive whiskey." He said putting an arm around you and pulling you closer.
"So you'll speak to others all night but all you want is to sit next to me and listen to music?"
"I also want to kiss you." He said planting a light kiss on your lips making you blush.
"Remus, I feel like you don't want to let me into your life."
"You are in my life, dear. I spend more time with you than anyone else. The last time I was around someone so much it was Sirius and I was your age."
"Yet you won't even let me meet Sirius." You left his embrace sitting on the opposite side of the sofa.
"Y/N, we spoke about this..." he said sitting up himself.
"What are we?"
"I don't know." He said slightly defeated.
"Are we dating?"
"No." He replied calmly but instantly without time to even process the question .
"But we're exclusive?" You asked after a moment of thinking
"Yes." Once again instantly.
"Why?"
"Because I can't bear the thought of anyone else kissing you."
"Why won't you date me?"
"Because I'm your teacher." He didn't break eye contact.
"Bullshit. You've crossed that line too many times for it to matter, why?"
"Because it's me. Y/N, I wouldn't want to curse anyone with me, especially not you. You don't understand what I am..."
"I do Remus, and I don't care so drop this self destructive attitude and let yourself feel happy."
"I want you to feel happy!" He almost shouted but controlled himself. "I am sacrificing my job for you to be happy-"
"Yes because you don't get any enjoyment out of it, you're just having sex with me and inviting me over for my enjoyment." You snarked back and he rested his head in his hand as he massaged his temple trying to find the right words to say.
"Y/N, you know what I mean. I care about you, I am smitten by you. But it would be selfish of me to decide to date you to call you mine. You're a young witch, you have so much potential. I have to change jobs before people realise my condition, I am always moving, I'm not safe, and I'm not safe to be around. I want to keep you safe and happy, I don't want to ruin your future by people finding out you're dating not only your teacher but a werwolf."
"Selfish is you not giving me a chance. Do you know what would make me happy? If you held my hand. The day you took me to the British Museum was one of the best days I've ever had, I was so happy, you can offer me happiness but you decide not to. You would know all this if you weren't too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice." You now raised your voice a little bit too much.
"This isn't how I wanted this evening to go." He simply said looking down at his feet almost defeated.
"I'm sorry but you can't keep running from this conversation Lupin it's March, am I just your plaything or do you hate yourself so much that you truly won't allow yourself to feel okay for a moment?"
"Dear, can we just come back to this tomorrow when you're more calm and I'm more sober?" He asked with a soft tone that contrasted your own.
"Maybe I should go." You said standing up and gathering your belongings.
"Dear-" he began as he stood up and followed you towards the door.
"No Remus, I'm not going to allow you to hurt me with your mistaken nobility, the worst part is you truly think you're doting the right thing." You said emotions getting the best of you.
"Y/N. Please stay." He placed his hand on the door to stop you from opening it.
"Why? Why are you so desperate for me to stay when you won't talk to me about anything real."
"Because it's my birthday..." he said and it hit you like a wall of bricks.
"Remus I'm so sorry-" you began but he seemed dismissive.
"Actually I believe it may be best if you do leave," Remus said letting go of the wall and walking to sit back down, downing the rest of his drink and closing his eyes as he sat there not looking your way.
"Yes I should go, we should go. Let's go to London."
"What?" He shot a confused look at you.
"Let's go, what are we doing wasting away here? Do you really want to spend your birthday sitting here like every other evening? Or do you want to celebrate?"
"I don't celebrate my birthday, I just don't want to be alone this year."
"Why isn't Sirius here?"
"Because I already saw him, they bought out a cake and sang me happy birthday at the meeting. I didn't like the attention but it was nice if Sirius to organise it, but I told them I just want to sit at home today."
"No let's celebrate!" You insisted sitting down next to him and putting hands on his knee.
"I told you I don't want to I just want to sit here and have a nice, normal, evening with you." He said sternly, his body stiff.
"Remus, why didn't you tell me it's your birthday?"
"Because I didn't want you to react like this, it's not important, I didn't want a cake, I didn't want people singing happy birthday, I just wanted to sit with you here and feel normal and happy." He explained it felt like he was lecturing you.
"I don't understand..."
"No you wouldn't would you?" He stood up moving your hand off his knee and walking away to go top up his glass before he continued speaking. "I didn't want to be reminded another year has passed, another year where there no cure, another year where each month is a curse, another year my mother is dead, my friends are dead. Another year closer to loosing my father, to loosing Sirius and another job. What is so fun about celebrating this?"
"Because it's about celebrating the person you are." You emphasised walking over to him, you stood in front of him looking up at him hoping he would kiss you as you moved up your him standing on your toes.
"There's nothing to celebrate about me." He said walking past you to sit on his office chair. You followed right behind him.
"Yes there is Remus. You're amazing, do you really think I'd be waiting for you all evening if you weren't worth celebrating." You moved in closer invading his personal space and straddling him on his desk chair. His body shifted below you as he cleared your throat, you could feel his penis twitch as he was begging to get hard. "I'm sorry Y/N, I think you should leave." He said almost whispering. You looked into his eyes for a moment before storming out. "Self destructive asshole" you murmured as you slammed his office door behind you.
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NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote
A/N: sorry for the angst I had to do it.
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808airsoftbros · 3 months
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A Part of Me Lives Inside Me (Kim Jiwon)
Author: Just a story that I came up in my head and the inspiration came from another creepypasta story I listened. If you want to check out more stories do go to my Masterlist
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Author's POV
It was uneventful day for Kim Y/N as he was driving home after his long day of work in the office, he was looking forward to the comfort of his home and to see his wife.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me..." He muttered and groaned as he saw a large pack of cars backed up in an intersection.
He peered his head out of the car window to get a better look and there he saw multiple ambulances tending to a major accident.
Deeply sighing knowing that this will make him very late and will probably be midnight by the time he gets home as this will take a while for this to clear up.
When the accident was finally cleaned up, traffic was flowing once again but Y/N sped up a little to make up lost time.
Passing through yellow lights right before it turned red and breaking the speed limit without miraculously getting caught by the police.
However, this would soon turn consequential as suddenly he saw an incoming freight truck but it was too late for him to react...
*crash*
It was all in a blur, his car collided right into the truck, and the front bumper was bent and broken along with the truck but they weren't the most damaged...
That honor belonged to our dear friend, Kim Y/N, his blood was everywhere and he soon passed out from losing too much blood along with God knows what injuries.
Soon EMS arrived at the scene, the truck driver luckily made it out with a few scratches but Y/N had to be hauled to the hospital as soon as possible.
Jiwon on the other hand was at home worrying and wondering what could be holding up her husband this late and was about to call him until her phone rang.
When she realized it was the local hospital, she answered it and the nurse informed her of the accident and she was heartbroken and shocked.
Not wasting a moment further, she grabbed her keys and rushed to the hospital, by the time she arrived, Y/N was covered in bandages and plaster completely unconscious.
"Mister Kim is in a coma, we're not entirely sure when or if he'll wake up, he got himself into a nasty accident..." The doctor grimly informed her.
Though Jiwon didn't like it, she knew there was nothing more she could do for him but be there for him, day after day, night after night, she visited him.
As for Y/N, in his coma, he was having strange visions of an infant crying and voices but he couldn't make out what they were saying or what was going on.
One night, Y/N finally awoke he looked around to see he was alone in a hospital room and covered in bandages making him immobilized as his body was too injured to move at all.
"Uhhh... What happened...?" He muttered trying to gather his thoughts.
The room was dark, he looked through the small window at the door in the hallway but there was no one there and he started to feel a bit lonely.
He looked at the clock to see it was three in the morning and decided it was best to get some rest.
But Y/N's sleep was anything but peaceful as he had those bizarre dreams again and he saw a surgeon performing some kind of operation but he before he could see who he was operating on he woke up and gasped.
His spook startled Jiwon who happened to be in the room with him and her eyes widened in surprise.
"J-Jagi! You're awake!" She exclaimed with a big smile with a tear coming out of her eye.
"Y-Yeah... What happened...? Last thing I remember was a truck heading straight towards me and I just blacked out," He asked and she sighed.
"You got into an accident, the doctor was worried you wouldn't make it but you seem to be fine for now, how are you feeling? You've been out for two weeks," She checked.
"Fine I guess..." He replied and she raised an eyebrow.
"Is something wrong, my dear?" She asked me and Y/N sighed as he didn't know how to put it.
Y/N explained what he saw in his dreams as best as his ability and by the time he finished, she was dead silent and had a blank expression devoid of any emotion.
"Oh... Well, dreams are dreams, they don't mean anything... Maybe it's just a side effect of your coma," Jiwon tried to brush it off.
However, this didn't entirely convince him as he felt that his wife knew something that he didn't but he chose not to push it.
After that, the doctor checked on him and informed them that he would be released after few weeks for him to be transported onto a wheelchair.
Throughout that time, however, Y/N's time in the hospital made him uncomfortable and felt nothing but dread and a sense of emptiness and he wished he'd be discharged sooner.
One night, Y/N couldn't sleep, he was alone in the room once again but he felt like something or someone was watching him from the shadows of the room.
"W-Who's there?" He nervously called out but of course, there was no response.
Sighing as he once again thinks he was hallucinating and feeling too much on edge driving him to paranoia, he was about to go back to sleep when he spotted a shadow figure standing in the corner.
At first, Y/N rubbed his eyes making sure he wasn't seeing things but the figure was still there, standing there motionless, until suddenly, his vision blacked out and the figure was right by his bed.
"W-What are you doing here...? Who are you...?" He quivered in fear and as the figure was closer he got a better look at it and his jaw dropped.
The figure... The man standing before him... Looked exactly like him... But there was no face, just a hollow shell resembling a black hole, he noticed that parts of his body like his shoulder blade, spine, and some other parts were missing.
Y/N shivered and was too afraid to say anything, he didn't understand any of it or why the faceless man resembling him was just staring at him, not moving a single inch.
There was nothing he can do about it, he was stuck in that room, and eventually one response came to his mind.
"W-What are you...?" He nervously asked.
Although he wasn't sure he swore he heard a whisper in his ear, whatever it was... Seemed to be his answer.
"I'm sorry Misses and Mister Kim, but seeing that your son is in a dire state of need, I see no other option..."
"Are you mad?! How would you think my son would feel about this?! This whole thing is just barbaric!"
"Honey, listen to him... He's long gone and we can't lose another... Please, it's the only way..."
The whispers stopped, strangely, all of this felt familiar to him and a faint memory began to play in his head, he was in an operation room surrounded by a doctor and nurses.
He saw his passed mother and father with anxious faces and whispered to each other.
*Door opens*
Suddenly, the doors swung open, and the lights flickered on illuminating the room and temporarily blinding his vision but when his eyes adjusted to the light... The faceless man vanished without a trace like he was never there in the first place.
"Y/N! Are you okay?! We saw your heart monitor spiking!" The nurse asked urgently and checked my vitals.
I was sweating cats and dogs, I didn't know what to make of it... That strange twin and those whispers from my parents.
"I-I'm fine... Just a little paranoid is all..." Y/N assured but the nurse didn't seem entirely convinced as sleeping in a room shouldn't have been this impactful to his health.
The nurse reported this to the doctor by morning, and he grew very concerned telling the nurse to request Jiwon's presence as he had an urgent matter to speak about.
When Jiwon arrived to the hospital, the doctor explained the sudden spike in his heart rate last night and he suspected one thing...
"He's good enough to be discharged... But keep a close eye on him," The doctor instructed and Jiwon nodded.
"Yes, Appa, I will do so," Jiwon answered and promised to take time off her work.
After Y/N heard the news of his discharge, he was most relieved that he would be out of that God-forsaken room, even so, he could not stop thinking about those dreams and that faceless twin.
Y/N would often keep to himself since then, Jiwon would ask what happened that night but all he would tell was that it was a figment of his imagination.
But I wonder if Y/N is telling the truth... Don't you?
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bengals-barnesbabe · 2 months
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Pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer!FemReader
Summary: From the LSU Tigers to the Cincinnati Bengals, their friendship never faded. Their feelings, however, grew stronger and even more oblivious. So obviously this was the job for Venus’ closest friends. Or will 3 years of dancing around each other crash down in 3 days?
Chapter 17: Operation Tiger
#Track9 Masterlist
Warnings: men with feelings, lots of feelings, all the feels, foul language, oblivious characters, angst with a happy ending.
A/N: ITS OUT! I DID IT and now I'm never reading it again, but y'all enjoy. If there are some grammar errors blame Grammarly (we got into a fight at 4 am). Also I edited this while having a dumb allergic reaction to my cat.
Word Count: 5.6k
Part Six 🖤
Friendships are a beautiful thing. Friend groups should be cherished for what they’re worth. These groups are rare, not because they’re hard to make but because they’re hard to keep. All friend groups have rules to keep the status quo for everyone involved. Team Shiesty even had some before they were ever known as Team Shiesty. An unspoken rule that they shared with all other friend groups was:
No one in the group should date anyone else in said group.
Fortunately for them that rule had yet to be broken.
Unfortunately for them two of their founding members had fallen for each other before the group could fully assemble. Which leads us to Operation Tiger. Our quarterback and Venus had been dancing around each other for far too long so the Atlanta natives of the group took it amongst themselves to create a new rule.
If your best friend is hopelessly in love and extremely oblivious to her suitor’s feelings for her, you HAVE TO INTERVENE.
˚₊‧ʚ♡ɞ‎‧₊˚
“If there’s one thing I don't miss about Atlanta, it's that damn traffic.” Venus lays back in her seat as the calmness of the suburbs settles in around her. Joe sat beside her in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel and the other tapping the hood as they came to a traffic light. He can’t help but smile at the look of pure boredom on the girl's face.
“I don’t understand why you wanted to drive 2 hours through awful traffic when you could've just hired a driver.” 
“Some of us like driving, you know. Plus it wasn’t that bad.” He shrugged as she pointed out the entrance to her parents' subdivision. 
“Yea yea, take your next 2 lefts then the first right and we’ll be at the house.” He nodded, following the directions through the never-ending neighborhood. 
“I remember absolutely hating it when we moved here. Part of that was just because I was in middle school, so I hated just about everything.”
“You think we would’ve been friends back then if we somehow went to the same school?” He asked jokingly before taking the last right. 
“Honestly J? Maybe? I was an emo chorus girl, but I wasn’t really afraid to talk to anyone if I needed to. I was also kinda nerdy so there’s that.” She shrugged. Soon they reached the cul de sac next to her house and he parked at the end of the driveway.
“Well I was the nerdy jock going through a very awkward puberty stage, so you would have never talked to me. You were probably too cool for me.” He smirked.
Venus playfully smacked his arm and shook her head, “I don't know what Mars told you, but I was not cool, I just talked to people.” Looking up at the light maroon house before her, the hidden anxiety about Joe meeting her parents crept its way back to her mind. 
‘But you were just friends, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, right?’
“You okay?” A shiver made its way up her spine before turning to the baby blue-eyed blond. “Take as long as you need, but I’m pretty sure someone saw us pull in.” He smiled. Blinding.
She attempted to match his expression, “I’m good. Just mentally preparing for the drama film that we’re about to walk into.”
Joe chuckled while pulling the key from the ignition and softly caressing her fidgeting hand. “Let’s go make you the main character then.” She let out a jittery laugh and attempted to shake the nerves off, but her fingers tangled with a loose string of her shirt. ‘Maybe this set wasn’t the best idea.’
Slowly her door was pulled open revealing Joe there with his hand out. Venus took a deep breath and let her friend guide her towards the door. Before either of them could knock or ring the bell, the door was yanked open by a girl with shoulder-length locs.
“Fucking finally! Come here.” Venus squeals as her best friend crushes her in her arms. A fruity but earthy perfume and castor oil fill her senses, images of the days when they walked around the mall complaining about their parents and school teachers flashed in her mind.
“I missed you so much babes.” They break away to wipe away the stray tears that had been shed.
She cupped and smushed Venus’ cheeks with her hands. “I missed you more, you’ve been held hostage by Louisiana long enough. I almost forgot how short you were.” Venus gasped and punched her in the arm.
“I take all of it back, I hate you.” She smirked.
Mars smiled while rubbing her arm, “damn, I forgot how hard you hit.”
“Can y’all move away from the door, so I can see this bitch?” A voice pleaded from behind them.
Mars rolled her eyes then moved over so the curly haired Latina could have a turn. “RiRi.” 
“Oh good, you still look how we left you.” She smirked before pulling her old roommate into a hug. 
“I’m going to try and not take offense to that because I’m excited to see you.”
“What? It’s nice to know that Louisiana or anyone else didn't change you.” She says, eyeing the man behind her.
“Yea speaking of height, can we address the giraffe in the room?” Mars winks, tipping her head like an imaginary hat.
Joe chuckled then ran his hand through his hair. “Guys, this is Joe. Joey, these are my best friends in the entire world, Riana and Mars.” 
“Hey, you can call me Joey if you want. It’s really nice to meet you.” He smiles and awkwardly waves.
“Ohhh I see the appeal now. You’re the silent awkward athlete who likes to surprise people with his abilities.” Mars points out.
“Really? I can see some fuckboy tendencies from here.” Riana replied. 
Venus was dumbfounded, “you just met- can yall bitches be nice, damn?” 
They shared the same smirk before properly introducing themselves to the quarterback, then winked at their friend before retreating into the kitchen. 
“I’m sorry about-
Before she could finish her dad walked into the room. His eyes went to hers, Joe’s then right back to hers with a smirk, he shook his head and grabbed a jacket from the coat rack beside him. Oh fun.
“Y/n, my daughta! Who have you brought into my kingdom today man?” A loud off-key Jamaican accent fills the air as he pulls on an Atlanta Falcons bomber jacket.
Joe stifles a laugh as Venus’ face deadpans. “Joe, this is my father- don't take him seriously. Dad please.” 
The man raised a brow and smirked. “I know not of what I’ve done to earn this treatment oh! This man of anotha tribe threatens my position, I must take charge.”
Venus leans back with her arms crossed. “Did you and Malik watch Black Panther again? Cause your M’Baku impression isn’t any better, probably because you were raised in New York and not Wakanda.”
Her father shrugs and pulls her into a hug. “Maybe I just wanted to embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend, you know show him who’s boss around here.” He winks in Joe’s direction.
As he kisses her head, she pulls away and thumps him on the back of his. “Well, you’ve succeeded- with the first part! Everyone knows I’m the real boss around here.”
The old man snorts. “Yes, yes I know. She’s been bossing me around since she learned to walk, so I’m excited for someone else to take that place.” Making his daughter roll her eyes as he winks again.
“She does have a nook for making sure things go her way.” Joe chuckled.
Venus whirls around a smacks his arm. “You two are not supposed to be ganging up on me, you’re not even supposed to like each other right now.” 
Joe rubs his arm feigning an injury. “I can’t even play anymore, I should see a doctor.” 
While her dad punches the air. “Yes, finally a win for my Falcons. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long. I’d like to thank my wife for agreeing to go on that date with me, my daughter for injuring her star quarterback boyfriend-
Venus gapes at the dramatic men, then shakes her head and walks away. “I can not believe this is happening, he’s not even my boyfriend. How do I find these ridiculous people?”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
After meeting the rest of Y/n’s family, Joe was finally able to shake some tension off his shoulders. For the past few days, all he could think about was this moment. Football he could practice, he knew the expectations on that field. But this, meeting the parents of the woman written all over his heart, was anxiety-inducing. No amount of preparation could prepare him for how it will all eventually go down. He hoped they’d be overjoyed and give him their blessing and by the way it’s going, he’s more than hopeful for this outcome. 
The plan leading up today today was she would catch a flight to Cincinnati Thursday night and then fly to Atlanta together the next evening. Nowhere in the plan did it say that Y/n could show up Tuesday night completely unprovoked and surprise him after he got back from practice. 
Even though they had been friends for years, he had never been so nervous to be around her for those 3 days. He tried to remain as calm and normal as possible; they joked around, cooked together, and shared the same bed as they normally would. 
Joe wasn't a total idiot, he knew their relationship was tiptoeing along the lines of something more. But after a year of helplessly pursuing her in college, he thought it’d be better if they were just friends. Eventually, he gave up on that idea altogether because, with the feelings he was harboring for her and Ja’Marr’s constant need to nag him about how dumb the situation was, the only one that needed convincing was her.
But this weekend was what he was playing the long game for, it’s his final chance to come clean about how he truly felt. And he hoped those feelings were reciprocated or the entire weekend would be a bust. And he definitely wouldn’t be playing the best tomorrow.
As soon as she left the room the temperature felt like it had been dialed to 100, Joe had never wished he had his headband so badly without being in the middle of a grueling practice. Her father gestured to the white couch behind him and they took a seat. 
“Your home is beautiful.” Joe starts as he’s trying to conceal his nervousness, but the constant wiping of his palms on his jeans tells another story. 
“Thank you, I assume Y/n told you that she hated it when we first got it.” Her dad chuckled trying to lighten the air. 
“Oh yeah, the whole moody middle school bit too.” He could only imagine what she was thinking about this interaction and how wrong it would be when it was revealed. 
“If someone had told me that kids didn’t like moving so close to their school, then maybe we wouldn't be here. But that’s not what I want to talk about and I doubt you’re here to hear about how much I don’t know my daughter.” The older man smirked.
“How’d you guess? But yeah, there’s something I felt would be best to talk about in person, if that’s okay with you, sir?” The quarterback clasps his hands together and straightens his spine.
“I thought so. How long have you been in love with her?” Joe’s eyes widen and his mouth dries as the gentleman relaxes his stance.
“F- shit sorry, wasn't expecting you to- wow um how did you know?”
The dad lets out a dry chuckle, “I’ve been in your spot before. I know what a hopeless man in love looks like and you didn’t take an eye off of her until she was completely out of your sight.”
“She seems to be the only one that hasn’t noticed it, but as cheesy as it sounds I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t in love with her. I’ve never been one to believe in myths like ‘love at first sight,’ but there’s no other way to describe it. I transferred to LSU for a fresh start, I just wanted to play football then when life finally started working out in my favor, she walked in. She’s funny, beautiful, smart, talented- the whole package. I’m kinda glad we didn’t date back then, I know it was only two years ago but I wasn’t ready for a woman like her.” He smiles fondly as the memories of them flash through his mind.
“And what about now, do you think you’re ready to start a relationship with my daughter that could potentially last a lifetime?” For the first time, Joe looks your father in his eyes with no fear or anxiety.
“Sir you don’t understand, I mean you do, but I’ve pictured Y/n as my future since we met. I grew up pretty well off, but I wanted to put in the work doing something I love so I could provide what I had for my future family. After a year in the league, there’s only one thing missing from my life, and it’s her. I mean I spent 3 days with her just in the house and I felt like I could do that for the rest of my life. I’ve known that she’s the one for me since we met, now all I need to do is finally tell her that.” 
The old man smiles as a few tears streak down his face, he wipes them away and then holds out his hand to the young quarterback. Joe takes his hand and gets pulled into a tight hug. “There’s nothing that makes me happier than when someone shows the same love and devotion to my little girl that I’ve been trying to show her for years. As long as you promise to keep a smile on her face and love in her heart, you have all the blessings in the world from me. Thank you, Joe.”
They let go with permanent grins on their faces. “No need for that, I’d do anything for her.”
“Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  
“So, you think she believes that we’ve been talking about ‘ball this whole time?” Joe joked.
“As long as she stayed out of this room, 100 percent. She’s clueless when it comes to it, so we could make up a term and she’d be convinced.” The men share a laugh before a head pops out of the kitchen.
“Hey, you guys hungry? Food’s ready. Let’s eat everyone!” Her mom announces.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
As the food is going around the table, Venus sneaks off to grab her purse. By the time everyone is settled, she clears her throat and stands next to her father. 
“So, I have something to tell you guys. No, I’m not pregnant, dating, engaged, married, or dying; before you start to conjure up some random assumptions.” She glared at Malik, her younger brother, who was holding in a laugh.
“First, I just want to thank everyone for coming. I know the last 2 years apart were hard but ‘time makes the heart grow fonder’ says some random dead guy.” Most of the table chuckles. “But seriously, I’m glad all my best friends could meet and hopefully talk about how much of an amazing person I am.”
“Venus keep talking and I’ll tell him all about how amazing you were in high school.” Mars smiles as the girl’s eyes slightly widen.
“Okay, as most of you should know, there’s this little game happening tomorrow. Nothing big or fancy, and I definitely didn’t bring one of the players to dinner, but I digress.” She shrugs extremely unbothered, causing her father and the quarterback to snort.
“Since I now hold the title of Assistant Physician Technician at Baton Rouge Clinic, I still have no money thanks to my glorious student loans. But y’all should still thank me for becoming best friends with some random football guys because everyone will be attending their first NFL game tomorrow night.” She cheesed fanning herself with their game day tickets.
Joe smirked as she sat down after handing over the passes. “Wow, and you said they were dramatic.” 
“Did you or did you not say that I was gonna be the main character when we walked in? I’m just doing your expectations justice.” Joe shook his head and draped his arm over her chair while pulling her a bit closer with his leg.
After dinner, all the women, except Venus per her mom’s request, help clean up the table and take the leftovers to the kitchen. 
“I don’t understand why we can’t drag Y/n over here to help.” Riana scoffs. 
Amina, Venus’s mom, shushes her and pulls the two girls into the empty dining room. “I’m having Malik distract her so we can talk about what is going on between my daughter and that footballer.”
The girls share the same knowing and scheming expression. “We may have an idea about that.” Mars starts.
“Yes, and what is it?” Amina crosses her arms.
Riana glances into the living room to make sure no one is eavesdropping, “ok they really are just friends right now, but we know that they have really strong feelings for each other. I came up with a plan to finally get V to do something about the tension and I’m very proud of it.” She smiles.
Mars rolls her eyes and rubs her temples. “Her plan is absolutely ridiculous, but we know it’s going to work because we’ve been friends long enough to know what makes that girl tick. So it involves his ex, a woman she hated more than anything when they were dating.”
The African mother nods but sucks her teeth, “why hasn’t she told me anything?”
“Cause you’re scary. Ow-” Mars elbows Riana before butting in. 
“She didn’t even want to tell us until we kinda forced it out of her. She doesn’t want to let herself revel in it for too long because she doesn't want to get her heart broken again.” She stretches the truth just a bit, the older woman did not need to know how their relationship actually worked. 
“That makes sense, ok go back out there.” The girls let out a much-needed breath as they were dismissed. “Wait, what do you mean again!”
Back in the living room, your brother is sitting on your dad’s armchair flipping through a photo album dedicated to your childhood. The three-seater next to him is now occupied by your mom and friends, while you and Joe are sharing a two-seater on the other side of the armchair. After learning the truth about you, your mom takes special notice of the fact that you’re sitting with your legs across Joe’s lap and one of his palms wrapped around your ankle.
“Oh look here’s a pic of Y/n trying to catch balloons while her pants are falling down.” Malik attempts to show J before you yank the book out of his hands.
“Ok, that’s enough, let’s put the album away now.” 
“Hey we were getting to the best part, I was in the next frame.” He fake pouts.
The scowl painted on your face causes him to break out into another laughing fit. “I despise you.”
“Come on babe, it wasn't that bad,” Joey smirks, then looks down at his phone. 
He just called me- which doesn't matter because you’re best friends duh. 
“Shi- it’s almost 7, we gotta go. I have to meet with Taylor in like an hour.”
“Why so late?”
“Who’s Taylor?”
“Taylor Swift?”
“A meeting past 5 pm is a criminal offense.”
“Y’all are so unbelievably nosy.” 
Joe throws his head back laughing. “I love your family, I don’t know why you didn't introduce us sooner.” Yea.. I definitely don't know.
“Zac Taylor’s his head coach. Remember there’s kind of a game tomorrow.”  
“Yeah and I may have ditched a meeting so we could drive up here,” J says sheepishly, once he’s done dying of laughter.
During his fit of laughter, some of his hair flung out of place giving him a more shaggy look. “You didn’t have to come if it was gonna get you in trouble.” Forgetting where you are for a moment, you begin to fluff out the front of his blond locks, then rake your fingers through the rest before settling on the back of his neck. 
His fond eyes meet yours. “I wanted to, plus you were just gonna make the trip yourself or end up ranting about not going while I’m trying to sleep?” 
You squinted and shrugged. “Touché.”
“Wait, you’re sharing a hotel room?” Your brother’s voice breaks you out of your bubble. When you look up, everyone’s eyes are glued to you. You’re now hyper-aware of your hand that’s been gently scratching his neck, your legs that somehow always end up in his lap, and the cautious hold he has on them. 
Removing yourself from his space, you begin to gather your stuff. “Um yeah, there was an empty spot that was already paid for and J offered me the bed.” 
There were no prepaid rooms left. 
“That’s very nice of you Joe.” Riana winked. 
A deep flush crept up his face, “It was nothing, what are friends for.” 
Mars beamed, “Exactly. He knows the real value of friendship. I mean look at him, breaking preset rules about boy-girl friendships.”
Your brows furrowed as you studied the two women. “Okay? We’re going to go now. Thank you for everything and I’ll see y'all tomorrow at the game.”
Your mother’s face brightened as you hugged then walked towards the door. Joe dapped up your dad and brother following your exit. “Thanks for the chat.” He smiled, then joined you in the rental. 
“That went really well.” You relax buckling your seatbelt
“Mhmm, told you you were anxious for no reason. Shit I was worried for no reason.” Joe says as he puts the car in reverse.
“You were anxious, really?”
He nods. “Oh yeah, more than you think.”
“Huh, I couldn’t tell. Hey if this NFL thing doesn’t work out maybe you should try acting. Today’s performance was outstanding.” You chuckled.
“Yeah absolutely not, I can barely do commercials and they want me to ‘be myself’ or whatever that means.” He shakes his head as your laughter bellows.
The ride back to the hotel was peaceful, the roads were clear, and the sky filled with stars, it was the perfect night. Until Joe’s phone started buzzing every 5 seconds. He tried to ignore it by listening to cars zooming by, but whoever it was really wanted his attention.  
He sighed. “Could you get that for me?” 
“You’re very popular tonight.” You snorted, then picked up the phone. Your face dimmed as you read the series of ‘I miss you’ texts all coming from the same number. It was unknown but you could tell they weren’t from some random fling. Your gaze was locked on each message, you could bet money on who they were from. She used to be obsessed with the idea of him. He gave her a chance for a few months, she started changing him into someone else. He stopped hanging out with you as often and-
“Who is it?” 
“If it’s Zac just tell him we’re on our way.” His words floated around unanswered. 
“Y/n?”
You broke out of your trance and looked over at the man driving before quickly turning your attention to the world outside the window, “it was nothing. Wrong number.”
The phone was placed on ‘do not disturb’ and forgotten about for the rest of the ride. 
The atmosphere in the car didn’t change from that moment, a perfect silence was replaced with a frigid one. You spaced out for the remainder of the ride, not wanting to show how it affected you. Joe noticed the odd silence but dismissed it as fatigue from the long day. Which it was, that could never ruin the comfortableness of their surroundings.
The car finally pulled into the Hilton valet entrance around 10, you unbuckled yourself then sunk into the seat. The late hour meant you had to wait for someone to come outside, in the meantime you attempted to lose yourself in the night sky. The antsy feeling bubbling under your skin was beginning to eat away your patience. Joe, finally able to get a good look at you, watched the way your knees bounced, the way your hands were picking at themselves and the lack of attention towards him.
“Ok what’s wrong, you were fine all night until you saw my phone. So what’s bothering you?” 
You scoffed, it’s just like guys to identify the problem not even realizing it was the problem. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”
“Fine, if you aren’t going to talk then I will.” Your gaze was unwavering from the doors of the Hilton.
“Damn okay, look I feel like I’ve been trying to say this for the last two years, clearly I haven’t been very successful. Y/n I don’t like us being so far apart. I mean, location wise and relationship wise- yea. Fuck. Joe just do it.” Some part of you would’ve laughed at his inability to coherently express himself, but you couldn’t get past the irony.
“I really like you Y/n, I have for a long time and-
Shaking your head, you can’t help the words that start flying out, “bullshit. How can you say that when Megan or some random bitch is constantly blowing up your phone?”
“Megan? Y/n there’s nothing going on between us anymore, that ended over a year ago. You are the only woman I have feelings for, I don’t care about whoever’s in my DMs or calling me up.” As he went on the feelings of doubt still lingered.
“I somehow don’t believe that Joe, call me fucking insecure but if you wanted me to believe that you would’ve blocked the numbers. It’s like you wanted to know that they’ll always want you and you can go back whenever you want.” Your vision began to blur with unshed tears. You don’t believe the words falling from your lips, this has never been a problem between you. But this is more than just a fight with your best friend.
“I don’t know what I can do to convince you that you’re the only one I care about.” He huffed laying back in his seat. Then his eyes widen, “wait you wouldn’t feel this way if you didn’t also have feelings for me.” A bit of hope fills his chest.
“So what?” You finally meet his crystal blue eyes. “You clearly have other priorities, so let’s just leave it at that. I’m tired so let’s just talk tomorrow.” With that, you left the car and entered the hotel.
“Y/n! Wait!”
The next few minutes are a blur, the bellhop rushes past you to help with the bags as you hand the lady at the desk your ID. Once she hands you your key, you b-line to the elevator, not waiting for a second. By the time Joe gets to the desk, you’re already in the room.
The lady at the desk confirms his identity and reminds him of the meeting he has with Taylor, but all he can think about is how this night went so bad so fast. He takes the elevator to the 12th floor where both their room and the meeting are and enters the one cracked open while his bags are wheeled further down the hall.
“Well look who’s decided to grace us with his presence. You were supposed to be back over an hour ago.” His manager, Dan, presses.
Joe takes a seat at the opposite side of their round table and runs his fingers through his hair. “Shit happens, can we start now?”
Coach Taylor takes a note of his behavior and quickly runs through everything he needs to know. He lectures for a total of 20 minutes and answers questions for 10 before he runs out of material. The entire time Joe took the sloppiest notes of his life and couldn’t care less about what the chicken scratch said. “Well that’s it, any other comments, questions or concerns?”
“How do you make a girl listen to you?” 
That raises the older mens’ attention just as quickly as when he walked in.
Zac speaks up first, “in my experience you need to have something to say that’s worth listening to.”
“I told her that I love her.”
Dan’s eyes widened. “Y/n?” The player nodded.
“And she didn’t believe you?” He nodded again.
“What happened before you said it?”
“Nothing, she was quiet the entire ride but something changed during the last 10 minutes. I got some spam texts from an unknown number and she got awkward. Then when we got here she brought it up again, but it didn’t make sense. She had no reason to be upset.” He huffed.
The older men looked at him amused. “What?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Did you read what the messages said?”
He shrugged. “No, why would I?” 
“I don’t know man, maybe because she read them and got upset.” Zac pondered.
“Give me your phone.” He hands over the device per his manager’s request. The man quickly goes through the messages before putting the phone back in his eye line. “Read it, aloud.”
“I miss you….. Why was she replying? She doesn’t compare….leeching off you…taking advantage. What the fuck?” His brows knitted. 
“Now do you see why she was mad?” Dan smirked.
“Fuck, I need to fix this.” Joe gets up and marches towards the door. “Oh and thanks for the help. I’ve been saying that a lot today.”
By the time Joe enters the room, he’s got a full speech in his head that he's gone over several times and he’s prepared to unleash it immediately upon seeing you. Except there’s no trace of you in the room. Your bags are gone, your phone isn’t near a bed, neither of beds even look like they’ve been touched. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s no way I messed up for a third time.” 
He starts pacing the room. This was supposed to be his chance, this was going to be the story he tells the grandkids. They were supposed to hear about their great love story and carry on his legacy. But instead he’s going to die that weird uncle that’s obsessed with cartoons and UFC. 
He finally sits down in the chair next to your bed facing the downtown skyline replaying the day’s events in his head and completely ignoring the door next to his own.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The second you got to the room all you wanted was a hot shower to help relieve some of the stress and tension from the car. It only took about 5 minutes for the young bellhop to come to the door, you gave him his tip, grabbed your duffle and went straight to the bathroom. You oiled your scalp then placed a shower cap over your hair and spent 30 minutes underneath the boiling water. 
After doing your much needed self care routine, you left the bathroom steamy and with 40% less stress than before you started. You softly shut the door then turned around to see a figure sitting next to your bed.
“Joey?” He gets up and slowly turns around, the sight of his red eyes, tear stained cheeks and messy hair makes you crumble.
“Oh my god, what-
Before you could finish he takes a few long strides towards you and pulls you into him. “Baby what happened?”
“I can’t lose you again.” He croaked. “Y/n, it’s always been you. I love you more than anything. Nothing she said in those texts was true, I’d give you the world with everyone still on it. You’re my biggest supporter, you’re the only one that knows me on a deeper level than -fucking- myself. I don’t wanna go another minute without you knowing how much you mean to me, how much I fucking love you and how much I’d do anything just to make you smile. I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you. I just wanted it to be perfect, I wanted to have a story that would transcend galaxies. I-
“Joey!”
He finally stops and stares into your eyes. “I always loved how rich and glittery your eyes got when you’re in the light.”
What a goof.
You rolled those glittery eyes, pulled him down by his collar and crashed your lips against his. After the initial shock wears off, he returns it making you sink into his hold. His hands dig into the softness of your waist and your arms wrap around his neck with your fingers immediately finding their home scratching and running through his hair. His hands wander further down mapping every inch of your body before one softly grips the meat of your ass causing a ‘gasp’ to leave your lips giving him the opening to allow his tongue to explore more of your mouth. Your bodies rock together until your knees hit the edge of his bed and you fall into it without breaking apart your lips. He grabs a hold of your thighs and flips you over so you’re on top. A sharp tug at his roots releases a deep vibrating groan that causes flutters in your lower stomach. 
“Joey.” A whine finally breaks you from the heat of his mouth. You open your eyes to his dazed eyes and smiling bruised lips. “Yea?”
“I love you too.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Main Masterlist
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The Doc Is In 🩺 | Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell Imagine
Takes place during TGM
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TGM Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x doctor!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)
Content Warnings: fluff, slight profanity, mentions of medical operations | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.7k
Requested 📨 yes/no (for @wildellaa 🤍)
Premise: Funny how a routine checkup after a near-death experience can lead to sudden revelations. For the dagger squad, this revelation comes in the news their infamous instructor happens to be quite close to the new base physician…who happens to be a high ranking Air Force personnel.
Note: I’m sorry by how long this took and I apologize if its bad/weak 🥹 I started a new job (my first job every) and it’s been a wild couple weeks but I promise I’m coming back! Also side note- the joke I added about the Air Force Dress Blues is an actual jab the branches use against the Air Force 😂 my mom was in the AF for 24 years and hated the Blues after they changed the uniform.
———————————
“Are you feeling any lightheadedness, nausea, or ringing in your ears?” Nat squinted against the light shining in her eyes, but adjusted before answering.
“No, just a little shaken. That’s all.” She kept her gaze forward as instructed, blinking once the light turned off. A light chuckle left the physician's lips.
“I would expect so after what you just experienced,” her smile was kind, jotting down notes on the pad beside her. “Normal behavior, but if you feel any of the symptoms I just listed at any point let me know. It doesn’t appear you have a concussion but we can never be too careful. And no visible sign of injuries to the chest or torso, indicating you had a more graceful landing than most pilots I see.”
“Is emergency ejections a common occurrence for you, Colonel?”
The woman chuckled, “You’d be surprised. Between the Air Force and Navy, my resume with treating you a lot doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.” She goes to the computer to enter the report, “Most cases involve broken or bruised ribs. But thankfully you appear in good shape. We just wanna watch out for any changes regarding your head.”
Nat nodded, moving to zip up her flight suit while the physician, an Air Force Colonel, the highest ranking for Air Force officers, with the last name L/n-Mitchell, wrote up the report notes on the computer.
Huh, funny how she shared the same last name as her boss.
“Your vitals are normal, no visible external injuries, and no sign of a concussion,” she repeated, fingers typing away, “but again we’ll keep an eye on those. I’ll get you and Lieutenant Floyd checked in for overnight observation—in the meantime is there anyone I can call to bring you anything you might need?”
“No need,” Nat waved a hand, “They’re all out in the lobby waiting for an update.” Rooster had sent her a text saying they had her and Bob’s things from their locker and food from the base Exchange.
Colonel L/n-Mitchell chuckled, “I’ll go grab them for you two.” She goes to the edge of the curtain, speaks to the person on the other side briefly before moving the fabric away to release the divide between the two spaces. When she does so the curtain reveals a pale-faced Bob on the opposite side.
“You good, Floyd?” Nat asks, untying her boots to make herself comfortable since she was to stay the night. Her answer was a groan.
“I might have thrown up a couple times.”
“What’s the diagnosis?”
“Just the case of my stomach being flipped upside down,” Bob leans back until he’s sprawled out on the bed. “I’m surprised I didn’t crap my pants.” Phoenix cringed, but bit back a laugh.
The Colonel placed her pen in her front pocket, smiling at the aviators, “I’ll be right back with your friends. Hang tight.” She opened the front curtain and disappeared, combat boots echoing with each step.
Bob and Nat waited about five minutes tops when she returned with Jake, Bradley, Mickey, Reuben, and Javy. “They’re in one piece,” she teased, moving to the side so they could all greet each other.
“We got your favorite,” Jake lifted a bag from Subway. Pulling out two sandwiches for Nat and Bob. They thanked them and started showing down when the curtain drew back again to reveal Pete.
“Sorry I’m late,” eyes instantly go toward the physician causing a smile to form on his lips. “Well this is a surprise.” Her own smile appeared.
“I told you I was transferring here.” The statement had all eyes, minus Bradley’s go wide. In fact Bradley mirrored Mav’s happy expression. Indicating he had some sort of familiarity to the Colonel.
Pete shocked them even more when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I was expecting to see you next week,” he lets his eyes wander her uniform clad figure, grinning from ear to ear. She was in her Air Force ABUs, “Did you get in last night?”
“I did. Got settled at tlf, was planning on surprising you tonight but it looks like fate had other ideas,” she giggled, accepting his kiss causing gasps to ring out. “I take it this bunch belongs to you?”
“Hold the phone,” Javy said what everyone was thinking. He pointed at Mav, “You,” then pivoted to the woman, “And you are….”
She finished for him, “married.”
“Married!”
“I missed some chapters.”
“You never said you were married,” Phoenix stated, not seeing a wedding ring on either of their hands. It was common for military personnel to not wear rings due to their jobs, but surely Maverick would’ve mentioned in passing.
“I thought you guys knew.”
Javy scoffed, “We sure did not. Let alone to the base physician.”
“New base physician,” she corrected, “I just transferred here so really no one would have known. Although,” she turns to Bradley, “I thought you would’ve said something, Bradley.” The pilot just shrugged and mumbled how his thoughts were occupied with Nat and Bob. “Anyway, it is nice to meet you all. Sorry we had to become acquainted in these circumstances.”
The pilots were flabbergasted. First to find out that their instructor was married, and second to discover it was to a full bird Colonel.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Colonel,” Jake began, not used to addressing Air Force personnel. The Navy’s equivalent to a full bird colonel was Captain. Which happened to be her husband's rank. And generally when licensed physicians enter the Air Force they’re automatically ranked Captain or Major. So it made him wonder how long Pete’s wife had been in the Air Force to reach the rank of Colonel. “But where were you before coming to Miramar?”
“Vandenberg.” Ah, the Air Force Base up north in central California. One of the largest bases in the country and satellite home of both NASA and SpaceX.
Not to mention in the last two decades it had several shark attacks on its beaches.
The next hour consisted of the squad asking the couple several questions including the typical, “how long have you two been together?” “Have you always been in the Air Force?” And “Why haven’t you mentioned you were married, Captain?”
“Again, I thought you knew,” Mav reinstated, slightly flustered from the knowing look he received from his wife.
“We’ve been married ten years,” Y/n explained with a smile. “Though we’d been friends for some time. So…” she brought a finger to her lips, “I wanna say it was 2004 when we met for the first time. I had just commissioned.”
“What did you come in as?”
“Captain,” she answered Payback, “well, Lieutenant in your case.”
“And how long have you been a full bird, ma’am,” Mickey’s eyes were full of curiosity. He thought it was so cool his instructor was the highest officer rank for the Navy and married to the highest officer rank of the Air Force.
“About three years,” her face was full of pride, as was Mav’s. “And to answer your question from earlier; no, I hadn’t joined until after six years of being a civilian practitioner following my residency.” If they were to do the math, it would put Y/n at graduating from both high school, college, and med school one year early.
Oh she was smart smart.
One could guess by the John Hopkins and Duke University class rings on her fingers.
“I gotta ask,” Mickey looked between the two, grin already forming. “Do you ever have rivalry?”
“You mean because of Air Force vs Navy?” Y/n laughed. “Of course we do. Especially during college football season.” Pete laughed with her.
“You’re outnumbered here, darling.”
She playfully scoffed, “It’s only fair since you were back in Lompoc.” Turning to the pilots who were holding back smiles she added, “fifteen years and things don’t seem to change. I hope,” she motions a hand between them, “we can find some civility. All things considered.” Of course it was a joke, the branch rivalry and all that. But Y/n loved a good friendly bicker and the squad seemed to also.
“Just don’t wear your Blues around here,” Javy started, “unless you wanna be called a flight attendant.” The entire room erupted in laughter, Y/n pointing a finger as if to say, ‘Good one.’ She hated how the Air Force Dress Blues looked. It was the running joke between the branches and she couldn’t blame it.
Every time she had to wear them when flying she was stopped by people asking where to find their gate.
Hangman let out a whistle after they all calmed down. “When I woke up this morning I didn’t expect It end with meeting Mrs. Mitchell?” The couple shared a look, a smile on Y/n’s face.
“I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”
Pete went into detail of how the two met—which had Nat snapping her head to Y/n only to receive a wink.
No wonder she mentioned chest injuries as a theme when dealing with pilots.
It was a stellar retelling of how the man decided to defy yet another Admiral resulting in him ejecting from a high speed plane over a mountain range. Y/n had recently commissioned and was sent to Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, but was TDY to Oceana Naval Base for a seminar. Seeing she was the most qualified and only personnel available at the time, she was to conduct Pete’s medical examination.
“So,” she mused at the name on the clipboard, not bothering to pay him a glance as he sat on the bed. “You’re the infamous Pete Mitchell everyone has been buzzing about.” Beelining to the computer, Y/n heard a deep chuckle.
“Guilty.”
The response led to a roll of the eyes, focusing on the screen in front of her, “Are you experiencing any nausea, dizziness, lightness of the head?”
“No.”
“Ringing in the ears, distortion of the eyesight, or pain in any area?”
“No, ma’am.”
The clicking of the mouse rang with each check off the electronic list, “It says you made physical contact with the ground when you landed. Are you feeling any discomfort in your chest or abdomen?”
Pete shook his head despite her not looking at him, “just a little soreness and a bruised ego. But other than that I’m good.” Biting back a grin, Y/n grabbed the stethoscope and began to turn.
“Well we can't be too careful now can we?” Upon settling her gaze on Pete Mitchell, Y/n felt an instant ‘Woah’ to her otherwise relaxed composure. Freezing for a bare second as their eyes locked before remembering where she was, stepping to his side to begin her evaluation.
Only her heart was beating a little faster than the average rate.
The nurse had already taken Pete’s vitals. Blood pressure, temperature, and all that. Now it was time for Y/n to conduct a more thorough scan.
“Deep breath for me, please,” were her instructions, the scope on his back, “And tell me if you feel any pain.”
Pete, hoping the skip in his own heart goes unnoticed by the doctor, does as he’s told. A slight wince causes her brows to raise in concern, “Commander?”
He clears his throat, “Yes, sorry. I feel a little tense.” She steps away from him, asking to point out the area. She places the scope lightly where he locates the discomfort.
“Deep breath, slow this time,” leaning in, Y/n pays close attention to the sound thumping against her ears. “Inhale.” Pete draws in a breath. “And exhale,” he winces again. Removing the stethoscope, the Captain instructed him to lean back until he was laying down.
“Would you mind unzipping your flight suit, Commander Mitchell?” Pete was left in his undershirt, suit unzipped to his hips allowing Y/n to lift the material to assess his chest. She was trying not to look flustered at her obvious attraction to the man. He had to have been nearly ten years older than her, probably in his 40s to her mid thirties.
Still, he was quite the looker. And without a ring on his finger.
The light purplish-yellow swelling on Pete’s torso was an indication he sustained more than just a damaged ego. “By my accounts, Commander, it appears you have acquired at least one if not two bruised ribs,” she lifts his shirt back down, helping him sit up, “I’m impressed you’ve managed to hide the pain you’re experiencing.”
Pete flushed, “I’m used to it. Feels no more than a tickle nowadays.” Y/n snickers, returning to the computer to log the report, “Well you certainly live up to your reputation.”
“I try to,” Pete winked, sending a ripple of warmth through Y/n. Quickly she shook it off to remain professional.
“I’m putting you on bed rest for at least three weeks. Considering this isn’t your first rodeo, I assume you know it takes three to six weeks for bruised ribs to heal completely before going about any physical activities.” Taking a pad to write down his prescription, Y/n continued, “over the counter ibuprofen works fine, but I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe you with Naproxen which is basically Aleve. Cold compress for ten to twenty minutes each day and I would recommend you coming back to the physician on duty for a green light before getting back in the box, Commander.”
Pete makes a face, tilting his head slightly, “You won’t be giving me the green light,” eyes flicker to the ranks on her collar, realizing they were indeed Air Force and not Navy ranks, “Captain?”
His question has her smile, albeit sadly, “Unfortunately I will be back at Langley, Commander. I only assessed you because everyone else on duty was occupied.”
Well that instantly had Mav deflate, stomach sinking at the thought of not being able to see her beautiful face again. Already the pilot was becoming smitten. He wanted to learn more about Y/n, like her career and the things that make her laugh and smile. The type of food she ordered and what she envisioned her life would be like.
“How long are you in town?” He couldn’t help but ask. It made her lips curl up.
“Till Sunday.” It happened to be Wednesday. Allowing the two half of week to allow the sparks starting to form to ignite into fireworks.
One can best believe Mav and Y/n took the opportunity once it was in their grasp. It started with lunch on Thursday to dinner on Friday and a late night drink at the bar on Saturday. By Sunday Y/n left with a light heaviness to her chest that was amended with the fact Pete’s number was in her phone and they had made plans to meet again. Langley and Oceania were not far in distance, so there was hope for the two.
And it was very well received.
The next five years were endless bliss. They had done the distance back and forth for some time and were lucky when they got duty stations near each other, but it wouldn’t be until they married that the Air Force and Navy would station them together or within the same state.
With Y/n as a licensed physician she could be sent to any base, be that Air Force, Navy, or Army. Working through the ranks at an impressive rate. Every base wanted her at their clinic then of course local hospitals were fighting to get her on their board. Then there was Mav as the Navy’s best fighter pilot with a reputation they both loath and admire. Sometimes they were at a base for six months to a year. Other times they didn’t even unpack the boxes.
Let’s just say….Pete lost count of the amount of disapproving looks when he fucked up.
“Seriously, Pete? Again?” Her eyes remained on the paperwork in front of her, arms crossed across her chest while her boyfriend pouted on the opposite side of the table. “We haven’t even been here for a year.”
“I know, but……” he paused, unsure if he would make it worse with his defense. “You did say you hated it here and wish to be reassigned.” He was met with a groan.
“That didn’t mean I gave you the green light to piss off your boss! Again!”
On their five year anniversary, Mav made sure it was one to remember. Following a long day at work all he said to Y/n was to change and met him in the car. Overlooking his typical Levis and white tee, she asked, “Any particular way I should dress?”
“Cute and cozy,” he kissed her cheek, “just like you love.”
Say less. Throwing off her Abu’s Y/n put on a sweater dress since it was chilly and simple shoes. Finishing off the look with one of Pete’s bomber jackets knowing he loved when she wore them. Evident by the smirk on his lips.
Driving down to their fav outdoor bar and grill they ordered appetizers and drinks while enjoying the live music and setting sun. Afterwards he took her to one of their favorite spots in the park. It was filled with lights and fountains, stars twirling from the sky above.
When it came time to present Y/n with the ring, Mav took her hands in his, got down on one knee and relayed a speech straight from his heart that brought tears to both their eyes.
“What do you say, Mrs. Mitchell?” He ended with a cheeky smile, the diamond ring sparkling from within its velvet boxed.
Teary eyed and grinning from ear to ear, Y/n leaned down to kiss him on the lips. “I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”
………………
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istumpysk · 1 year
Text
OPERATION ICEBERG: THE TIER LIST
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THEORY:
Ned Stark + Ashara Dayne = Jon Snow (N + A = J)
TIER:
Debunked: These theories have been directly contradicted by the text, George R. R. Martin, or other authoritative sources.
[Tier list overview]
EVIDENCE:
Ashara Dayne was a Dornish noblewoman, rumored to be Jon Snow's mother. Her life ended under mysterious and tragic circumstances.
We're first told of the rumor that Ashara Dayne is Jon Snow's supposed mother in one of the opening chapters of A Game of Thrones.
Ned would not speak of the mother, not so much as a word, but a castle has no secrets, and Catelyn heard her maids repeating tales they heard from the lips of her husband's soldiers. They whispered of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, deadliest of the seven knights of Aerys's Kingsguard, and of how their young lord had slain him in single combat. And they told how afterward Ned had carried Ser Arthur's sword back to the beautiful young sister who awaited him in a castle called Starfall on the shores of the Summer Sea. The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes. It had taken her a fortnight to marshal her courage, but finally, in bed one night, Catelyn had asked her husband the truth of it, asked him to his face. That was the only time in all their years that Ned had ever frightened her. "Never ask me about Jon," he said, cold as ice. "He is my blood, and that is all you need to know. And now I will learn where you heard that name, my lady." She had pledged to obey; she told him; and from that day on, the whispering had stopped, and Ashara Dayne's name was never heard in Winterfell again. - Catelyn II, AGOT
The name resurfaces when Cersei Lannister, who has evidently heard the same rumors, uses Ashara to challenge Ned's honor.
"Honor," she spat. "How dare you play the noble lord with me! What do you take me for? You've a bastard of your own, I've seen him. Who was the mother, I wonder? Some Dornish peasant you raped while her holdfast burned? A whore? Or was it the grieving sister, the Lady Ashara? She threw herself into the sea, I'm told. Why was that? For the brother you slew, or the child you stole? Tell me, my honorable Lord Eddard, how are you any different from Robert, or me, or Jaime?" - Eddard XII, AGOT
In the next book, Catelyn once again ponders the possibility that Ashara might be Jon's mother.
Arya was the only one to show much of Ned in her features. And Jon Snow, but he was never mine. She found herself thinking of Jon's mother, that shadowy secret love her husband would never speak of. Does she grieve for Ned as I do? Or did she hate him for leaving her bed for mine? Does she pray for her son as I have prayed for mine? They were uncomfortable thoughts, and futile. If Jon had been born of Ashara Dayne of Starfall, as some whispered, the lady was long dead; if not, Catelyn had no clue who or where his mother might be. And it made no matter. Ned was gone now, and his loves and his secrets had all died with him. - Catelyn VI, ACOK
When Bran hears the tale of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, we learn more about Ned and Ashara's initial meeting and their dance at Harrenhal.
The crannogman saw a maid with laughing purple eyes dance with a white sword, a red snake, and the lord of griffins, and lastly with the quiet wolf . . . but only after the wild wolf spoke to her on behalf of a brother too shy to leave his bench. - Bran II, ASOS
In an Arya chapter, Edric Dayne of House Dayne—presumably someone with insider knowledge—reveals more details about Ned and Ashara's alleged love affair. Harwin confirms that he has also heard such rumors.
"My father was Ser Arthur's elder brother. Lady Ashara was my aunt. I never knew her, though. She threw herself into the sea from atop the Palestone Sword before I was born." "Why would she do that?" said Arya, startled. Ned looked wary. Maybe he was afraid that she was going to throw something at him. "Your lord father never spoke of her?" he said. "The Lady Ashara Dayne, of Starfall?" "No. Did he know her?" "Before Robert was king. She met your father and his brothers at Harrenhal, during the year of the false spring." "Oh." Arya did not know what else to say. "Why did she jump in the sea, though?" "Her heart was broken." Sansa would have sighed and shed a tear for true love, but Arya just thought it was stupid. She couldn't say that to Ned, though, not about his own aunt. "Did someone break it?" He hesitated. "Perhaps it's not my place . . ." "Tell me." He looked at her uncomfortably. "My aunt Allyria says Lady Ashara and your father fell in love at Harrenhal—" "That's not so. He loved my lady mother." "I'm sure he did, my lady, but—" "She was the only one he loved." "He must have found that bastard under a cabbage leaf, then," Gendry said behind them. [...] It was Harwin who rode up beside her, in the end. "Where do you think you're going, milady? You shouldn't run off. There are wolves in these woods, and worse things." "I'm not afraid," she said. "That boy Ned said . . ." "Aye, he told me. Lady Ashara Dayne. It's an old tale, that one. I heard it once at Winterfell, when I was no older than you are now." He took hold of her bridle firmly and turned her horse around. "I doubt there's any truth to it. But if there is, what of it? When Ned met this Dornish lady, his brother Brandon was still alive, and it was him betrothed to Lady Catelyn, so there's no stain on your father's honor. There's nought like a tourney to make the blood run hot, so maybe some words were whispered in a tent of a night, who can say? Words or kisses, maybe more, but where's the harm in that? Spring had come, or so they thought, and neither one of them was pledged." - Arya VIII, ASOS
Barristan Selmy, who was present at Harrenhal and held great fondness for Ashara Dayne, recalls her suicide over a lost child and/or a man dishonoring her. He wonders whether he could have prevented her becoming enamored with "Stark."
But Ashara's daughter had been stillborn, and his fair lady had thrown herself from a tower soon after, mad with grief for the child she had lost, and perhaps for the man who had dishonored her at Harrenhal as well. She died never knowing that Ser Barristan had loved her. How could she? He was a knight of the Kingsguard, sworn to celibacy. No good could have come from telling her his feelings. No good came from silence either. If I had unhorsed Rhaegar and crowned Ashara queen of love and beauty, might she have looked to me instead of Stark? - The Kingbreaker, ADWD
Lastly, Catelyn mentions that Ned refers to Jon as his son, a claim corroborated in the book's opening chapter.
"Beyond a doubt," his lord father said. "Come, let us see what mischief my sons have rooted out now." He sent his horse into a trot. Jory and Bran and the rest came after. - Bran I, AGOT
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The Starks were not like other men. Ned brought his bastard home with him, and called him "son" for all the north to see. - Catelyn II, AGOT
COUNTER-EVIDENCE:
God, where do we begin?
The confirmation from George R. R. Martin to David Benioff and D.B. Weiss regarding Jon's true parentage.
It's well known that David Benioff and D.B. Weiss correctly guessed Jon's true parents, giving George R. R. Martin the confidence to let them adapt his book series.
Martin recounted, "I did ask them a few pointed question to determine whether they had actually read the books, and they gave me the right answers." When asked to specify what they were grilled on, Weiss elaborated: He asked us, "Who is Jon Snow's mother?" We had discussed it before, and we gave a shocking answer. At that point, George didn't actually say whether or not we were right or wrong, but his smile was his tell. We knew we had passed the Wonka test, at that point. — The 'Game of Thrones' writers had to answer this trick question about the book before they were allowed to make the series
Who were Jon's parents in the television series adapted and written by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss?
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Right.
The leaked original outline.
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Here.
Arya will be more forgiving... until she realizes, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Night's Watch, sworn to celibacy. Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jon's true parentage is finally revealed in the last book.
Until. Until.
Let me point out the obvious here: if Jon were Ned's child with Ashara Dayne, there would be no parentage reveal that could relieve the torment felt by Jon and Arya. They would still be half-siblings, and it would still be unacceptable for them to be in love. Not much of a reveal then, is it?
The original intended purpose of revealing Jon's parentage was not to place him on a throne or to fulfill a special prophecy; rather, it was to pave the way for a possible romance with a sister. This doesn't work if Ned Stark is his father.
The timeline simply doesn't add up.
The tourney at Harrenhal, where Ned danced with Ashara, took place in 281 AC. Ned traveled down from the Eyrie.
It was the year of false spring, and he was eighteen again, down from the Eyrie to the tourney at Harrenhal. - Eddard XV, AGOT
The year after that tournament, Rhaegar abducted Lyanna, leading to the eventual deaths of Brandon and Rickard Stark, and the start of Robert's Rebellion.
With the coming of the new year, the crown prince had taken to the road with half a dozen of his closest friends and confidants, on a journey that would ultimately lead him back to the riverlands. Not ten leagues from Harrenhal, Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, and carried her off, lighting a fire that would consume his house and kin and all those he loved—and half the realm besides. - The World of Ice and Fire - The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring
Ned Stark had returned to the Eyrie following the tournament.
"At the dawn of Robert's Rebellion. The Mad King had sent to the Eyrie for Stark's head, but Jon Arryn sent him back defiance. Gulltown stayed loyal to the throne, though. To get home and call his banners, Stark had to cross the mountains to the Fingers and find a fisherman to carry him across the Bite. [...]" - Davos I, ADWD
Robert's Rebellion spanned 282-283 AC.
Are you wondering what Ned was up to during that time? I'll tell you.
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(map!)
Ned Stark was in the Eyrie when King Aerys demanded his head.
Unable to use Gulltown, he crossed the Mountains of the Moon to get to the Fingers.
He then hired a fisherman to take him to White Harbor, but a storm rerouted him to the Three Sisters.
Thankfully, Lord Borrell granted him safe passage to continue on to White Harbor.
Upon reaching Winterfell, Ned immediately called his banners.
He subsequently marched south to the Stoney Sept and helped secure a victory in the Battle of the Bells.
Following that battle, he travelled to Riverrun and married Catelyn Tully.
At this point, Robb Stark was conceived.
Around this same period, Jon Snow should also have been conceived.
After that, Ned participated in the Battle of the Trident, contributing to the defeat of House Targaryen's forces (laugh out loud).
He then marched to King's Landing, only to find that Tywin Lannister had already sacked the city.
Note: Ashara Dayne was not present.
He then moved on to Storm's End to lift the siege, thereby saving Stannis Baratheon (and pissing me off).
Following this, he travelled to the Tower of Joy in the Red Mountains of Dorne. There, he defeated Arthur Dayne among others, and discovered his dying sister, Lyanna Stark.
Before her death, Lyanna made Ned promise her something. (Prioritize self-care? Never stop learning? Forgive yourself for past mistakes? Save and invest? Be the best you can be? Gosh, who could say.)
After the events at the Tower of Joy, he travelled to Starfall, the home of Ashara Dayne, to return the ancestral sword of House Dayne.
Note: He did not stay for 40 weeks.
Finally, Ned returned to Winterfell, bringing with him a baby and a wet nurse.
Shortly after, Catelyn Stark arrived at Winterfell with Robb Stark, who was considered the older of the two babies by literally everyone.
The end.
So, I ask you, given that Jon wasn't conceived at the tournament at Harrenhal in 281 AC—
Jon was fourteen, an old hand at justice. - Bran I, AGOT
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Robb is fourteen. Soon enough, he will be a man grown. - Catelyn II, AGOT
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When the wars were over at last, and Catelyn rode to Winterfell, Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence. - Catelyn II, AGOT
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All of which is a long winded way of saying, no, Jon was not born "more than 1 year" before Dany... probably closer to eight or nine months or thereabouts. - George R. R. Martin
—when exactly, during Robert's Rebellion, did Ned manage to teleport himself to Ashara Dayne to conceive this child?
Catelyn Stark is a smart woman, but sometimes emotional distress can cloud one's judgment.
The Brandon Stark Consideration.
In true George R. R. Martin fashion, there's hints that another Stark may be more relevant to Ashara Dayne.
Ned Dayne casually mentions that Ashara met not only Ned at Harrenhal, but also his brothers.
"Before Robert was king. She met your father and his brothers at Harrenhal, during the year of the false spring." - Arya VIII, ASOS
When Bran hears about Ned and Ashara's dance, an ellipsis of truth clarifies that this occurred only after a conversation between Brandon Stark and Ashara.
[What the hell is an ellipsis of truth? George R. R. Martin frequently uses an ellipsis as a technique to emphasize statements in the text that are highly relevant or truthful.]
The crannogman saw a maid with laughing purple eyes dance with a white sword, a red snake, and the lord of griffins, and lastly with the quiet wolf . . . but only after the wild wolf spoke to her on behalf of a brother too shy to leave his bench. - Bran II, ASOS
Barristan's reference to 'Stark' is amusingly vague and non-identifying.
If I had unhorsed Rhaegar and crowned Ashara queen of love and beauty, might she have looked to me instead of Stark? - The Kingbreaker, ADWD
In A Dance with Dragons, we learn that unlike Ned Stark, Brandon Stark was the type of guy to dishonor a highborn woman he had no intention of marrying.
Brandon was never shy about taking what he wanted. I am old now, a dried-up thing, too long a widow, but I still remember the look of my maiden's blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing, yes. It hurt, but it was a sweet pain. - The Turncloak, ADWD
I have a feeling we'll hear more and more about Brandon Stark and Ashara Dayne in the upcoming books.
The complete and total absence of Ashara Dayne in Ned Stark's thoughts.
Ned Stark is an introspective man, often dwelling on past events and his family. So why is it that in all his chapters, he never once thinks of Ashara Dayne, his great love and the alleged mother of one of his children, who tragically took her own life?
He doesn't reflect on her when thinking about Jon, while recalling Robert's Rebellion, when considering Arthur Dayne, or even during his recollections of the tournament at Harrenhal where they supposedly fell in love.
It sort of feels like the woman means absolutely nothing to him.
"Honor," she spat. "How dare you play the noble lord with me! What do you take me for? You've a bastard of your own, I've seen him. Who was the mother, I wonder? Some Dornish peasant you raped while her holdfast burned? A whore? Or was it the grieving sister, the Lady Ashara? She threw herself into the sea, I'm told. Why was that? For the brother you slew, or the child you stole? Tell me, my honorable Lord Eddard, how are you any different from Robert, or me, or Jaime?" "For a start," said Ned, "I do not kill children. You would do well to listen, my lady. I shall say this only once. When the king returns from his hunt, I intend to lay the truth before him. You must be gone by then. You and your children, all three, and not to Casterly Rock. If I were you, I should take ship for the Free Cities, or even farther, to the Summer Isles or the Port of Ibben. As far as the winds blow." - Eddard II, AGOT
Nothing! Unaffected. Unfazed. It rolled right off him.
Confused Edric Dayne.
Edric Dayne tells Arya that his aunt, Allyria, told him that Ned and Ashara fell in love at Harrenhal.
A few things to consider:
Edric Dayne was born in 287 AC, well after the events of Harrenhal and the Rebellion.
Arya got goosebumps when Lord Beric said her father's name, but this Ned was only a boy, a fair-haired squire no more than ten or twelve. - Arya VI, ASOS
Edric Dayne doesn't actually believe Ashara is Jon's mother. He thinks Jon's mother was his wet nurse, Wylla.
(I hope I don't have to point out again that Ned Stark didn't stay at Starfall for 40 weeks, and this story makes no sense.)
(I'm sure I also don't need to point out that the author prevents little Ned from claiming something factually untrue and swearing it on the honor of his house.)
"Brother?" Arya did not understand. "But you're from Dorne. How could you and Jon be blood?" "Milk brothers. Not blood. My lady mother had no milk when I was little, so Wylla had to nurse me." Arya was lost. "Who's Wylla?" "Jon Snow's mother. He never told you? She's served us for years and years. Since before I was born." "Jon never knew his mother. Not even her name." Arya gave Ned a wary look. "You know her? Truly?" Is he making mock of me? "If you lie I'll punch your face." "Wylla was my wetnurse," he repeated solemnly. "I swear it on the honor of my House." - Arya VIII, ASOS
But what about his aunt Allyria, who told him Ned and Ashara fell in love?
Well, we don't know a lot about Allyria, but we do know one thing: she was betrothed to Beric Dondarrion in 294 AC or 295 AC.
"How long have you been Lord Beric's squire?" she asked, to take his mind from his misery. "He took me for his page when he espoused my aunt." He coughed. "I was seven, but when I turned ten he raised me to squire. I won a prize once, riding at rings." - Arya VIII, ASOS
Beric Dondarrion was born in either 276 AC or 277 AC. He was 21 years old at the beginning of A Game of Thrones, which would make him a young boy during the tournament of Harrenhal and the Rebellion.
Beric Dondarrion was handsome enough, but he was awfully old, almost twenty-two - Sansa III, AGOT
Given cultural norms, Beric's age, and the year of their betrothal, what is the likelihood that Allyria is younger than Beric? I'd say very likely.
That would make her a little girl during the events of Harrenhal and the Rebellion, so it's doubtful she has firsthand knowledge of Ashara or Ned.
The "son" issue.
Yes, Ned refers to Jon as his son in Bran's opening chapter. Yes, Catelyn claims Ned calls Jon his son. However, I have to point out, we're often shown Ned referring to Jon as anything but his son.
"He is my blood, and that is all you need to know. [...]" - Catelyn II, AGOT
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The look Ned gave her was anguished. "You know I cannot take him south. There will be no place for him at court. A boy with a bastard's name … you know what they will say of him. He will be shunned." - Catelyn II, AGOT
x
Riding through the rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow's face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. If the gods frowned so on bastards, he thought dully, why did they fill men with such lusts? - Eddard IX, AGOT
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To her credit, Cersei did not look away. "He saw us. You love your children, do you not?" Robert had asked him the very same question, the morning of the melee. He gave her the same answer. "With all my heart." "No less do I love mine." Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon's life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would. - Eddard XII, AGOT
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The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him - Eddard XV, AGOT
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Lord Eddard seemed much younger this time. His hair was brown, with no hint of grey in it, his head bowed. "… let them grow up close as brothers, with only love between them," he prayed, "and let my lady wife find it in her heart to forgive …" - Bran III, ADWD
Other things to consider:
Quick question, what impact would Jon's identity as a secret Dayne have on the overall narrative? None. Hello?
Anyone with two brain cells should be able to figure out that when the book quickly reveals Ashara Dayne as Jon's real mother, that's obviously not the case.
It's pretty easy to tell that Ned Stark is not the type of man to cheat on his wife or dishonor a maiden. He's the quiet wolf who's too shy to speak to girls.
While George has never explicitly confirmed the R+L=J theory himself, he has been known to slip once or twice when being pressed on the topic.
Since all of their mothers died, who gave Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen and Tyrion Lannister their names? Mothers can name a child before birth, or during, or after, even while they are dying. Dany was most like named by her mother, Tyrion by his father, Jon by Ned. - George R. R. Martin
Lastly, and most important,
THE INESCAPABLE, OVERWHELMING, INDISPUTABLE, OPEN-AND-SHUT, CRYSTAL CLEAR, AVALANCHE OF EVIDENCE THAT CAN BE FOUND IN EVERY SINGLE BOOK AND SUPPLEMENTARY MATERIAL POINTING TO LYANNA STARK AND RHAEGAR TARGARYEN BEING JON SNOW'S ACTUAL PARENTS. HOLY FUCK.
Is there more? Probably. But I'm tired and I think I've made enough points.
STUMPY'S THOUGHTS:
I hate this theory like I hate flat earthers.
Just out there being stupid for no reason.
VOTE:
I welcome discussions. Feel free to reblog, respond, or challenge my perspective—I won't be offended by any of it.
Please note, if "no" is the eventual winner, or if it's competitive, a second poll will be conducted to determine the proper location.
NEXT THEORY:
The Hound is the gravedigger.
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j0kers-light · 2 years
Text
His Lighthouse: High Risk, Low Reward (LedgerJoker x f!reader)
High Risk, Low Reward 
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series summary:
Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?
chapter summary:
If someone told you a week ago that you would be taking a shower with Joker, would you laugh in their face or plan the day it happens? You’re back on speaking terms with Joker but anything goes with the Clown Prince of Crime. The plan is simple; predicting Joker’s next move is not.
Author’s note:
FORGIVE ME! This is the longest I’ve went without updating!! So much has happened I kid you not! Carpal tunnel, work in general, writer’s block, you name it, it happened. But enough excuses! I’m happy to drop this chapter and share the news that chapter eight is already 3K words in progress. Don’t judge me it’s how I operate. Anyhoo!! I wrote/edited half of this chapter at a wedding reception so if there’s any errors hehe. Cheers.
No beta, we die like real men. Without further ado I hope you enjoy the story! 
Taglist! 
@blackreaderatrisk​
Last Chapter | Next Chapter 
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If someone told you a week ago that you would be taking a shower with Joker, for starters, you would've laughed in their face, called them crazy, and then ran for dear life.
But as you stood in the shower, soaked completely through with Joker cornering you into the wall, well, you felt like the crazy one for not believing it was possible.
"J-Joker... wait."
"Shhhh." He brushed the back of his hand down your face before cupping your neck and tipping it back.
He was breathing heavily and with the hot steam from the shower adding to the already stifling air, your breath was labored as well.
Joker's eyes roamed your face, memorizing every blemish and lingering a tad bit too long on your parted lips before settling on your e/c eyes.
Your eyes. The power they had over him was unnerving.
"Just let things happen, Y/n. You'll find life is a lot more enjoyable that way."
With every word he whispered, Joker loomed closer and closer and this time, you didn't run away.
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"You sure you wanna do this, Y/n? Cuz it seems someone is a lit-tle nervous."
Joker stressed his T's again and you grumbled under your breath knowing the reason behind it. His speech pattern was designed to intimidate and stir up people's emotions and boy was it doing its job.
You were indeed nervous but he didn't have to call you out on it. It was too late to take back your original offer so you did the next best thing and denied everything.
"Me? Pfft no. I'm not nervous! Stop putting words in my mouth Joker. Now c'mon. Let's get you in the shower yeah?"
You were a stuttering mess but hopefully Joker bought your act. He didn't.
He knew firsthand how quickly your mood could change and since he was really looking forward to taking a shower, he kept his mouth shut.
Joker decided to be on his best behavior until he got what he wanted. It went against his morals but he found the strength not to tease you and shifted towards the edge of the bed, pushing up to his feet.
He hadn't been on his feet that much today. His little stretch felt good despite the multiple pops and groans his body made in protest.
Your worried glance was cute but then again– every expression you made was cute to him.
You avoided eye contact as you offered him your arms and he didn't comment on it as the two of you shuffled the few steps into your en-suite bathroom.
There was a wooden bench behind the bathtub, mostly used to hold your candles and things during a soak, that caught Joker's eye. He parted from your hold to drag it out. He then plopped down on it with a huff. Maybe laying around all day was making him feel out of shape.
Which left you standing near the doorway a little put off from being dismissed so casually. Though you didn't mind his cold shoulder.
A withdrawn Joker was godsend right now with your current jitters. You were too busy trying to mentally prepare yourself for this shower to be worried about his abrupt and closed off demeanor.
You planned on being his human crutch while he showered but knowing Joker, anything could happen. The possibility of this going south had your hands shaking like a leaf. You needed a distraction.
You stumbled over to the built-in linen closet and smiled when your second favorite set greeted you on the shelf.
You pulled out the two fluffy towels and the matching washcloth before placing them on the edge of the sink. Towels down, next to grab was aromatics.
"Alright I got you some towels but.." Joker watched you dig around further, making quite the ruckus with your nerves fueling your erratic hand coordination.
"Do you like bergamot or almond and vanilla?" You turned around holding up two minimalist bottles for him to choose from.
"Are you asking me what scent of soap I wanna use? Does it look like I care?" Joker scratched his neck and fixed you with a dull stare. He could care less.
His long eyelashes hypnotized you with each slow blink but you shook your head to focus back on the matter at hand.
"Yes. Yes I am. The right fragrance can turn a boring shower into a luxurious experience! I personally use bergamot when I'm tense but it's also good for balancing out my complexion during the summer. Vanilla on the other hand is calming and paired with almonds..."
'What have I done to deserve this form of torture?' Joker thought.
He saw inmates stabbed over common bar soap before. As long as it cleaned him up, what was the big deal on how it smelled? And how come yours was in a bottle?
"Soap is soap, just pick one." Joker groaned out loud. Why did everything have to be so difficult with you?
"But it's so much more than that!" You marched up to him and waved the two bottles in his face so he could see the label printed on the back. "Every fragrance is different and has different properties! Duh, any soap can clean, but I want this shower to be perfect for you after going so long without one! You'll thank me once you get in there."
He took a glance at his choices before grabbing your wrist to tug you close, thus earning a high pitched yelp from you in the process.
"How about this, Y/n." Joker licked his lips pretending to think. "Why don't I use your soap?"
You jerked back in shock. It was an odd suggestion but you didn't see any harm in indulging him. Just where did he get the idea from? "You.. you want to use mine? Why?"
Joker shrugged, "I already know what it smells like. It saves me time trying to guess whatever the hel–"
You narrowed your eyes at Joker for almost swearing and he rolled his eyes, quickly remembering your house rules.
He took a deep breath before replying. "I almost forgot! No potty mouths in front of the innocent whittle bunny. What's worse? Your prudish rules or picking out which fanc-y soap you want me to use?"
"Ha. Ha. You really do live up to your name huh?" You mocked.
Joker wisely chose to ignore your jab.
"You always smell good so I know your soap will be 'perfect' and allow for whatever.. uh experience.. you keep babbling about to happen. There. I picked out a soap. Can we move on now?"
Joker turned his head and you swore the strip of skin between his face paint and the collar of his shirt turned red. Was he blushing? He did admit you smelled good, but it was a rather tame compliment.
What made him so flustered then?
"Y-Yeah sure. I guess you can use mine. I'll just go grab it out of my shower. I'll be right back." Your eyes lingered on Joker before you walked out the bathroom and ventured down the hall into your room.
He was acting odd but what could you do about it? Joker was rather unpredictable.
One minute he was compliant to your wishes, the next threatening you with common household objects. You knew no matter how long Joker stayed hidden in your apartment, he wouldn't change.
The door to your bedroom remained closed but with a gentle twist of the doorknob it opened. You didn't spare a glance at your room but made a beeline for the other bathroom in the apartment— separate from the rest.
Of course your main bathroom in the hall was grand but it was paltry compared to the one attached to your master bedroom. Per norm it was off limits and undoubtedly yours.
Following the theme in your bedroom, the walls were dark and the celestial décor continued on.
The ceiling here was also painted with the moon and stars with spotlights installed as the only source of light. The walls were darker than black holes with a faint shimmer of opal. As a whole, the room wasn't gothic in appearance.
Other elements a few shades lighter created contrast and kept the space balanced.
A slab of poured concrete sat atop a massive cabinet of natural cedar wood supplying you with ample amounts of storage space. The dual sinks were carved into the counter like an infinity pool, giving off a futuristic look and saving counter space.
The faucets however were replaced with a statue of a deity allowing the water to pour out from her outstretched hands into the respective sink dents.
A floor to ceiling mirror took up the wall behind the sink, letting the window to its immediate left flood the bathroom with moonlight and subsequently the luminescent view of the Fashion district at night.
The penthouse was high enough for the average peeping Tom to not be an issue but as a precaution, there was an archway that separated the sink area from the shower and toilet area as well as frosted glass in place.
The archway was painted with the phases of the moon that led to the focal point of the bathroom. A sunken bathtub.
You fought with the landlord when you submitted your remodeling blueprints to him.
After you waved a wad of cash in his face and signed a non-negotiable lease for the next ten years, your contractor dug a literal hole in your bathroom right into the maintenance floor below yours to build the tub.
Since it was all custom, the depth exceeded the average twenty inches and once again the standard faucet was replaced with another statue, this one similar to the one on the sink but bigger.
This deity had water spewing out from her mouth with two chibi sprites flanking her, holding pots decorated with Greek mythology motifs that also filled the tub from the sides. At full power, the statues could fill the basin in roughly twenty minutes.
But you walked straight past all the grandeur over a cedar wood plank to your waterfall shower just two steps above the sunken tub.
There was a plethora of shower gels present, each with different scents and in different textures, stashed inside a built- in alcove, but you honed on your favorite, separate from the rest.
You snagged the bottle before darting over to your bathroom cabinet and grabbing a spare loofah for Joker. Ironically it was green. Go figure.
You wasted too much time here and doubled back to the main bathroom where Joker was in the same place you left him, although he now looked rather impatient.
"And where did you disappear to, hmm?" He eyed the new bottle in your hand with intrigue. Unlike the others, it was half empty showing it was used regularly.
"Sorry. I had to grab a few more things." You waved the loofah before setting it down.
"Okay so I got the towels, shower gel, plus a loofah. That's everything needed for a shower. Are you ready?"
"For the third time, yesss, Y/n I am ready. I should be asking you that question." Joker rolled his eyes at your methods of stalling.
If you didn't want to help him it was okay. He wasn't forcing you. You were the one putting yourself into an awkward situation here. Although a part of him wanted you to join him.
You were down to your last excuse. "Hey.. aren't you going to wash your face?" You gestured to your own while leaning on the console sink.
Joker huffed, as if his answer was obvious. "Uh no. NoT in front of you."
Oh. Oh. You weren't exactly on good terms with him so that made sense.
You forgot he was a wanted criminal with an unknown past. Plus you were an inconvenience to Joker at the end of the day. Who were you to see him so exposed?
"Righttt. What I meant to say was– do you usually take off your makeup? I mean, it's looking a little worse for wear. No offense!" You quickly added.
So you finally noticed. Good, you weren't an airhead after all.
"It's still concealing my identity Y/n. But to answer your question, yes. I usually reapply by now. This is the longest I went without fixing it." He made a face and smacked his lips a few times.
Day-old lipstick must taste horrible. How did he bear it? There was a stretch of silence inside the bathroom while you let that thought sink in.
You could only imagine what his pores looked like after years of neglect. You really wanted to see what was underneath the paint.
To see his skin, despite the scars in its natural beauty. Common sense told you Joker would never let that happen... but it didn't hurt to dream. Thank goodness you planned ahead.
You shifted on your feet drawing Joker's attention back to you.
"If you want, you can use some of my makeup to reapply. I know you're not comfortable going around bare faced. Even if it's just you and I inside the apartment, you have a right to feel comfortable, so I stopped by the makeup store on Monday and bought some for you to freshen up with."
That was very considerate of you. Joker didn't know how to process your act of kindness. You went out of your way to help him again and he still didn't have an answer as to why.
If you were smart, you should've exposed his identity and got that information over to the authorities, even better to Batman. That would've been the main objective if he were in your shoes.
Not like he'd risk compromising his identity around you, but you did have many opportunities to out him.
And you chose to protect his privacy. Hiding him here and jeopardizing your freedom if someone found out. You were harboring a fugitive, all with a smile on your face.
Nothing you did made any sense to him.
"Uh thanks?" Joker blinked.
You excused yourself and returned with a cosmetic store bag filled with foundation, powders, etc.
You didn't know what all Joker needed and you got quite a few suspicious glares when you raided the beauty store. You bought all of their pale whites and full coverage products and paid in cash to destroy a digital trail.
If it was closer to Halloween average costume makeup would have sufficed but you made due with the daily makeup products a few online beauty gurus recommended for fairer skinned beauties.
"I hope this helps." You carried the brand name bag over to Joker.
He peered into the bag expecting the worst. Imagine his surprise when he spotted the exact lipstick shade he normally used inside. How did you know?
Joker tried not to look too pleased and gave you a faint nod but it was enough for you. He didn't throw the bag at you so apparently you did well!
"Alright! No more dicking around. It's shower time!"
You crossed the room and opened the glass enclosure that was your shower and tampered with the controls to power it.
Keeping in mind this shower was to help flush out his wound and clean off all the dirt and grime from his body, you set the temperature between hot and molten lava. You didn't want to burn him and get yelled at, but you still wanted to fight off any lingering bacteria. If he couldn't handle a little hot water then he was a pussy.
Once the water was to your liking, you lifted your baggy sweatshirt up and off, revealing the thin tank top and lounge shorts you wore underneath to Joker's gaze.
He was expecting a swimsuit but this was so much better. He couldn't wait to see it wet. He coughed discreetly into his fist and looked away.
This was it then. You were seriously going to join him in the shower.
He thought you'd flake last minute but as you dug out a silk bonnet from your pocket, something else you snagged from your private bathroom and secured it over your hair, Joker understood there was no turning back.
But was he ready? After seeing you strip down he lost all of his initial confidence. Joker was forced out of his inner thoughts by you approaching him with your hands on your hips.
"Well?" You waved towards the shower. "I'm not gonna ask you again."
Even your nervous grin was cute. This was gonna be hard– amongst other things..
"Sure. Let's get naked." Joker exhaled with a grin of his own.
He couldn't pass up an opportunity to tease you. It was just too easy. You sighed and urged him towards the shower with a few gentle nudges. He made it to the door and felt the accumulated steam seeping out to greet him.
"Okay! I'm turning around so you can undress but let me know when you're done so I can keep your balance in the shower. Can't have my patient slipping and falling on my watch am I right?"
Joker was already removing his shirt before you finished your first sentence. You only had seconds to turn before receiving an eyeful.
Look away Y/n, LOOK AWAY!
His zipper echoed sharply in the bathroom sounding way too provocative given the situation. Your mind was racing as blood rushed in your ears. Suddenly the picture frames on the wall were very interesting.....
"Done." Joker mumbled and took the liberty of stepping into the spacious shower only to hiss and spew a string of curses from the scalding temperature.
"I told you the water would irritate your open wound! Give it a minute and you'll adapt." You scampered in behind him, chuckling lightly to quell your nerves.
You stepped over the small pile of clothes he left outside the shower. Just looking at them made you red in the face.
You cut holes in his pants to access his wounds but now that they were completely off his person, oh boy. You weren't prepared for this at all.
Pull yourself together Y/n! You are [insert age] years old, not some horny teenager facing her crush for the first time!
So what if Joker was butt naked in your shower and letting out some very suggestive groans as the hot water worked its magic on his weary muscles.
This was by far the worst idea you ever had.
The steam quickly fogged up the glass and thankfully covered Joker's body from the hips down but from what you could still see... the man was all types of fine.
Joker's signature three piece suit concealed his frame and any media coverage failed narrow down exactly what lie underneath his clothes. For years he had been a mystery. Now you got to see the truth.
Various police reports described him as tall and lanky. Well that was a lie.
Joker was tall.. and surprisingly muscular with gorgeous tan skin, riddled with old scars and dusted with faint freckles, just begging to be touched. And how could you forget to mention? He was drop dead gorgeous.
He wasn't ripped like a bodybuilder but in no way lanky as everyone originally assumed. He had the right amount of muscle that any male model would die for while maintaining his ominous appearance.
Water dripped down Joker's back in sinful patterns and you followed a bead down his spine until it disappeared past the danger zone. It had to be illegal to be this hot.
Each flex of his arms was like a moving piece of art for your eyes only. You were beyond speechless.
If his back was this stunning could you handle seeing the front? You were fighting the urge to turn him around yourself. Unfortunately your body was frozen in awe.
Joker craned his head back and found you motionless by the shower entrance. His green eyes somehow glowed and easily cut through the steam.
He knew that look from anywhere.
"See somethin' ya like, Y/n?" That smirk of his was pure sin. You nodded mutely and instantly regretted it.
"Oh you do? Didn't take ya for a perv Y/n, but never judge an author by their uh.. covers." Joker chuckled to himself and returned back to his shower.
You on the other hand wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. You?! A pervert? Your current thoughts were befitting the name but he didn't have to know that!
"I am not a pervert! And I won't let your jokes get to me! I think you're wet enough-"
"You think I'm wet enough, Y/n?" Joker shot over his shoulder, smirking.
"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!" You whined in your hands. "As I was saying... you're wet enough to start lathering up. Here." You handed him the bottle of soap and his sage green loofah.
At this, Joker turned and faced you. "'How do I.."
Oh my God.
Did he not know how to use shower gel?
Maybe that's why he was so agitated by selecting one earlier. He was used to generic bar soap from prison. That made your face turn sour.
You shook your head forgetting for just a moment that Joker was naked and boldly retrieved the loofah from him to demonstrate. "This is liquid soap. You drizzle it onto this exfoliating puff and then.."
You let your actions do the talking.
Joker watched as your hand came up to rub soothing circles on his chest with the loofah. Immediately he saw a lather form followed by an explosion of scent that filled his nostrils.
The hot water amplified the exotic fragrance and the shower enclosure was quickly flooded with the smell of you.
This is what he wanted; to be wrapped up in your alluring scent with nothing standing in the way.
There were no words to describe this feeling so he simply let it take hold. His mind didn't register that you were literally bathing him and you were so out of it, it didn't click in your mind either.
Using the loofah, you worked the soap into his skin while your left hand roamed wistfully across his body, working like a phantom puff. You coated his chest and arms with suds and were working on scrubbing his sternum when he hummed and dropped his forehead on the crown of your head.
And then the moment was shattered.
Your eyes blinked a mile a minute and both of your hands froze mid scrub.
What. Were. You. Doing?
Your brain caught up to your actions and you and Joker locked eyes at the same time.
"Andthatshowyouuseshowergel!" You spun around and wished for a swift death.
Maybe he would be generous and snap your neck quickly. No fuss no muss or perhaps since you two were still in the shower he could find something to slit your throat with. That way he could clean himself and the crime scene like a two for one deal.
Writing a hit thriller series educated your mind on the many ways to kill a person.
It was all bad for your health. You could add this to the list of things to discuss with your therapist if you ever made it out of this shower alive. You were about to bang your head against the subway tiles when you heard Joker speak up behind you.
"Mmm, thanks for the demonstration Y/n, but can you uh.. get my back while you're at it?"
You must've shook your head because Joker bent down and rested his chin in the crook of your neck, humming again. Just what on Earth was he doing?!
"Pretty please? You did such a good job already.."
He didn't mean to tease you this time, he was just stating the obvious but your praise kink took his words and created a new narrative with them.
You were doing your best impression of a tomato despite your dark complexion. You didn't know you could visibly blush until you met Joker!
Your cheeks were constantly on fire whenever you were around him and your levels of embarrassment were constantly through the roof. You thought over every possible scenario of showering with Joker but not whatever this was! How could you not plan for this to happen??
It was even worse when you felt Joker lean more of his weight on you. You forgot he was supposed to be keeping weight off his leg.
Was he getting tired already? Or was he just messing with you? So far he kept his hands to himself so maybe it was the former?
You turned your head a bit to see Joker's head of seaweed waterlogged and dripping with water. You didn't grab any shampoo. Yeah. You really didn't think any of this through.
Maybe your mind was too preoccupied with the physical action of showering with Joker that it didn't plan out what all was required to complete said task. This was a huge failure and you had no other choice but to commit to it.
Joker was far too quiet for your liking. "Hey Joker, you okay?" All you received was a content little hum. It was raw and soft on the ears. Comforting.
It spelled trouble for your heart.
"Okay... then can you get off my shoulder?"
"Why?" He cooed.
"Be-because I can't wash your back if you're leaning on me, that's why! Geez you're acting like a big baby." You heard, more like, felt him sigh before he stepped back and turned around.
He balanced his weight on the tiles in front of him giving you the full expanse of his back to admire and wash.
The steam still curled around his frame so you decided to use that as the stopping point. You refused to go past his hips. For both his sanity and yours.
You took a deep breath and started scrubbing lazy circles into his shoulders blades, working down.
Your water bill this month would be insane but you didn't have to worry about the actual hot water running out. With the amount of money you paid for rent, the (expensive) penthouse water heater had an unlimited reservoir for your floor.
Now that you were aware of your actions, scrubbing Joker's back was rather awkward.
This whole situation of harboring him inside your apartment was awkward yet you suffered through it. You couldn't escape this far in the game.
Some time passed and Joker's back was completely clean. You nodded at your work and tapped his shoulder twice. "I'm done, you can turn around now."
You were wringing out the loofah, lost in your own world and didn't see the looming shadow coming closer.
By the time you caught onto his schemes it was too late.
Joker wasn't kidding when he said a group of people could be comfortable in here with no issues but the fact that he managed to walk up on you without you noticing him was concerning. You were standing near the opposite end of the shower, quite a distance away from him.
You were convinced that Joker wasn't as injured as you originally thought. He sure wasn't acting like someone with a gunshot wound.
You dropped the shower puff the second Joker began invading your personal space.
His height, the heat from the shower, his imposing aura, it all got to your head. You were backpedaling until your back hit the wall with nowhere else to go. The predator had finally stalked its prey.
Joker didn't speak, he just gazed into your eyes with that unreadable stare you couldn't put into words. Just what was he thinking? Nothing gave him away.
He didn't blink, you didn't move, and tiny beads of black from his eyeshadow dripped down his face like tears that didn't help ease the tense situation you found yourself in.
So many nefarious thoughts could be forming inside his brain. Your cause of death, a not-so funny joke, for all you knew he could pass out from the heat— so you waited for his next move with bated breath.
It came in the form of his arms caging your body further into the lukewarm subway tiles. His palms came to a rest beside your head and just like that; you were at his mercy.
Since he was so close you could smell your shower gel and it smelled heavenly on him. Letting him use it was a great idea. It coaxed you into a druglike state, making your head empty and your worries obsolete.
Joker let his eyes roam freely over your body since he could see better in the steam than you.
Your clothes clung to you like a second skin and he was very thankful you opted out on wearing a bra.
Were you trying to seduce him here? The way you opened your eyes and sent him an alluring glance, he had no doubt that you were. You really were a naïve little minx.
There was no need for underhanded tactics when you were a sight for sore eyes. A droplet of water was caught on your lower lip and it became a beacon to his gaze.
Perhaps he could find out what your lips tasted like..
You saw his intentions, it was clear as day on his face. You wanted to avoid this ever since you met Joker but apparently it was inevitable. In the short time you've known him, common sense was forgotten and you gave up your attempts to stay away from Joker.
In some demented way, you craved Joker's attention and his touch. The thought of 'what would kissing him feel like?' flashed across your mind.
'I want to know.' The confession echoed loudly inside your head. It both empowered and terrified you. It was time to stop denying it. You were screwed, but you needed to know.
However, the situation you found yourself in was still scary.
"J-Joker. Wait." You couldn't remember the last time you let a man this close both physically and emotionally. You needed a moment.
He didn't like you being bashful around him. Your eyes dropped low and you turned away from him. It hit a nerve and he just couldn't have that. He needed your attention on him, always.
Joker said your name softly and it echoed over the running water to your ears. It was too gentle, bordering on being manipulative, and you shied away from him even more.
Why did you suddenly fear him? You hadn't before despite all the threats and hurtful comments he threw at you.
He never met a person that didn't fear him. A person who actually enjoyed his presence. He came too far to lose this feeling. There was something about you that he needed to understand and your sudden fear of him was something he couldn't handle.
Your closed off demeanor wasn't an issue but he didn't want to scare you off. For some odd reason he cared about your feelings. He... never cared about another person before.
Joker thought about what a normal person would do in this situation and in a blink of an eye, he acted.
You were startled by the sudden contact.
"Shhhh." Joker cooed and brushed the back of his hand from your temple down your cheek.
He then seized the back of your neck. You winced at his grip; he paid it no mind.
There. Those big, expressive e/c eyes of yours were back on him. As they should be.
He was breathing heavily and with the hot steam from the shower adding to the already stifling air in the room, your breath was labored as well. You'd be lying if you said this version of Joker scared you. You blamed this unhealthy attraction to him on the dark fanfics you read in your downtime.
Joker's eyes roamed the entirety of your face, memorizing every blemish, the faint flush across the bridge of your nose, down to the swirling colors within your eyes he was beginning to love..
But the most important feature of yours captured his eye the longest. Your parted lips were still moist from the shower's humidity and the (sinful) action of you licking them with your tongue, drew him insane.
It was a toss up. Your eyes did something to him but so did your lips. He should be stronger than this. Having a soft spot for a woman was a huge no no in his profession.
How did you have this much power over him in such a short amount of time? It was embarrassing yet he chose to accept it. You were a temptation that he would gladly allow to ruin him from the inside out.
"Just let things happen, Y/n."
Let me do this, was what he truly wanted to say. "You'll find life is a lot more enjoyable that way."
Please don't run away.
The last wall of your subconscious fell in order to let Joker in. With every word he whispered, with each gentle caress on your skin, Joker sweet talked his way in and won you over. And this time, you didn't run away from him.
You simply let things happen.
You closed your eyes, missing his smug grin, and let him take the lead. He pulled you in closer and you could feel the heat of his breath brush against your lower lip, your own slightly parting open, preparing for what was to come.
However a ringtone rang out inside the bathroom like a sitcom record scratch. Your eyes flew open and began locating your phone inside the bathroom.
Without glancing back at a fuming Joker, you darted out of the shower to go answer it.
This had to be some kind of joke. Maybe you were a tease after all. Joker stood in the shower trying to collect his thoughts because there was no way you left him hanging right as he was about to kiss you.
He pulled some cruel jokes in his career but this topped the cake. No matter how many times he blinked, you weren't there in his arms and this was seriously happening.
He punched the wall, cracking a few tiles here and there, but his anger remained. He was so close! It seemed like every chance he got to try and kiss you, fate had to intervene.
Sharp green eyes cut over to your figure standing by the sink, completely unaware of the ticking time bomb you left behind. What phone call was so important that you had to dash out of the shower to answer it?
Was it him? Joker saw red at the mere thought of Gotham's playboy calling you at a time like this.
If it ended up being Wayne on the line, Joker had far too many ways to end the millionaire's life. Joker was breathing like a bull ready to charge when he happened to hear your voice float across the room.
You knew that ringtone by heart. No matter the time or however busy you were, come hell or high water, you always answered the phone for your manager. Period.
You ignored how your clothes dripped on the floor as you stepped out of the shower.
The tank top clung to you like a second skin and once out the spray of water it felt uncomfortable, but your focus was on your phone resting on the edge of the sink. How it kept its balance was beyond you with the constant vibrations sounding off from the device.
A candid selfie of Cindy was on the screen until you accepted the call with an airy hello.
"Woah, you sound out of breath. Did I catch you at a bad time?" She asked.
Of course she would notice. The woman was very perceptive, both on the job and as a friend. "No no.. it's fine. I was in the middle of something. It's alright, I know you're a busy woman."
It was silent on her end so you carried on, "Soooo.. what's up? I get the feeling this isn't a friendly check in." You panted.
"Ding ding ding! You know me so well. I'm afraid this is a business call. It shouldn't take long, I only have two things I need to address. Number one: this Friday night. I already scheduled you to attend a gala at The Prosperity for another networking opportunity."
She was halfway into another sentence when your brain reacted to her first announcement.
"What!? What do you mean this Friday? Cindy.. that's in less than two days! Can you give a girl a little more breathing room to charge her social bar before you make plans that huge?!"
You were already freaking out, pacing the length of the bathroom.
"Oh calm down, Y/n. You're a natural at communicating with others." She paused for a second to snort. "I can see your unamused face through the phone. Two days is plenty of time to 'charge your introverted social battery'. Geez, I didn't have to remind you at all, you know. Remember what happened last time?"
How could you forget? You rolled your eyes at the memory. "I won't raincheck last minute. I promise. I'll go."
"You better! I already took the liberty of ordering a dress to your place so no excuses about you not having anything to wear. I also have transportation planned so don't even think about it. I'm covering my bases this time."
Cindy really wasn't playing around this time. Maybe you should stop being such a difficult client and work with her. After all, she was doing this to help you and your career.
"Figures you would." You heard her hum of agreement followed by a flurry of keyboard clicks in the background.
"With you involved, I have to. The package should arrive by," a series of clicks rang out. She must've gotten a longer set of acrylics than normal.
"...tomorrow morning if it moves out of the New Jersey terminal overnight."
"To confirm. You can track a delivery in real time but you can't remind me of a party a week in advance? And I thought we were friends, Cindy." You looked at your reflection in the mirror and snuck a peek at the figure bent over in the shower.
Was he pissed that you took this phone call? You weren't ready to face him afterwards to find out. You hoped Joker understood it was important.
"I'm doing this because we are friends. The official invitations were sent out three months in advance. I knew you would've flaked if you knew that far ahead. This gala is really important Y/n! I ordered the best dress for you to schmooze and minge in so work those assets of yours! I got high people in high places attending. Try to make a deal or even better, start a fling with a screenwriter. At this point, trashy press is still press and you need all the attention you can get."
You held back your laughter. Assets? Trashy press? Was she serious?
"You're getting desperate now Cindy."
"No, you are getting desperate, Y/n. Which reminds me. The second reason why I called you. Y/n.. your deadline is fast approaching. Four weeks to be exact. I don't want to lose you.. but—"
Great. Now you had her worrying. You knew your contract was expiring soon.
The calendar on your phone reminded you each passing week. Your fingers itched to get new material out to the public but these things required patience. You couldn't rush perfection but you knew she had a job to do.
"I'm working on something." You mumbled over the phone.
From the awkward silence stretching afterwards, Cindy wasn't buying it.
She drummed her nails on her desk. "Are you writing something down in your notepad or are you actually typing something out working working? I need clarification here."
"I-I have over five thousand words typed out. In our normal place."
"What? Why haven't you shared the document with me?! Do you like stressing me out, Y/n?" She did sound stressed, but that could just be Cindy's normal voice.
Either way, you felt guilty even though it wasn't entirely your fault you forgot to share the document. Joker just had a way of distracting you. Not like she would believe that excuse. He was a secret after all.
Speaking of secrets, you jumped at the sound of the shower turning off. Joker must have realized you weren't returning and decided to get out.
"Well.. um. You see uh.. I've been.." You looked behind you as Joker was wrapping a towel around his waist.
Your brain shut down right then and there. The view from the front was definitely better than the back.
"Y/n? Y/n! I know you hear me! I can hear your creepy fangirl breathing!" Cindy screamed over the phone.
You couldn't tear your eyes from Joker but it was common courtesy to respond. Your eyes didn't waver from him as you answered.
"I've been busy." You didn't lie.
"Y/n, you can't fool me, I heard your shower turn off. Got some company over huh? OHHHH! That's why you answered the phone out of breath! Well well well! Someone doesn't need trashy press like I thought! Unfortunately if he isn't a movie producer you're gonna have to be a slut for the weekend and fool around. Hopefully your guy will understand."
Cindy spoke to someone else, most likely her assistant, and sighed before returning to your phone conversation.
"Something's come up. Just look nice on Friday okay? I won't be attending but I'll have eyes at the event to keep tabs on you so no rain checks! Socialize, make connections, possibly with someone we can work with. Oh and Y/n? I really don't want your deadline to sneak up on you. Please email me an invite to the word document so it can count as submitted work."
"It won't Cindy, I promise." She really knew how to pull the strict editor role on you.
"...before your deadline Y/n. We both know you get distracted easily. I gotta go."
Cindy ended the call before you could say a proper goodbye. You were left dripping wet and fully clothed in your bathroom, wondering how your life could get any more stressful.
"Hmm, sounds like someone's weekend is already planned ouT for them."
You screamed as Joker's fingers danced across your exposed shoulders. For a second you forgot he was in the room. Your heart was beating fast but you turned around to face the music.
To your shock he wasn't angry or at least he didn't look like it.
He looked calm as he used another towel to soak up the water from his hair. You noticed during your phone call he found some kind of shampoo to wash it with for it looked healthier and less like oily seaweed and more like something you wanted to rake your hands through.
Where did that thought come from? You didn't lie, but the thought worried you a bit.
'A few minutes ago you were about to kiss him in the shower Y/n. Did you think playing with his hair is somehow worse?'
It was official, your own mind was against you. You cleared your throat getting Joker's attention. He was still standing in front of you in just a towel creating a puddle of water on the floor.
You raised an eyebrow, "Did you not towel dry yourself?"
"I barely turned off the shower correctly. Your floors can stand a lit-tle water, Y/n." Joker scoffed and ruffled his head with the towel.
The end result gave his hair a fluffy, wild mop of curls. You were a little jealous.
There was too much of him to focus on at once, although you pointedly avoided looking at his exposed chest and below.
"Yeah sure. Did you finish washing up? I mean, I got your front and back but I didn't.." You trailed off, scratching your neck and looking away.
He really hated when you did that. "Hmm, I had no choice since you left to take a phone call."
So he was angry. He just didn't show it. You sighed and gave Joker your best apologetic smile.
You walked over and gestured for him to bend down to your height. "Sorry about that. That was my manager and we kinda have an agreement. I always answer the phone when she calls. No exceptions."
You took over drying him off. It was definitely not an excuse to touch him but you knew that was a lie.
You were working on his arms and shoulders. "I forgot to share my current WIP with her and now she's upset with me even though I–"
Joker cut you off, "I'm well aware, Y/n. I heard every word." You looked up into his green eyes, shocked.
There was nothing there to help decipher his actual mood.
His clown makeup had all but melted in the shower with only the remainder left surrounding his eyelids and mouth. The rest was wisps of white and red, smudged and faint.
You didn't think before you reached up and used your thumb to wipe a trace of red from the corner of his mouth. The area there was raised and bumpy from his scars but surprisingly smooth to the touch.
Joker parted his mouth and the motion moved your finger onto his lip. You lurched back like you touched burning coals. "I'm sorry!"
He smacked his lips while rolling his eyes. You acted more like a mouse than a bunny, jumping at every ounce of contact. Were you always this guarded or was it only around him? Joker could tell there was a wall between you and him but for a brief moment, it was down.
How long would it take to earn your trust again and knock it back down? He only had another week left. Could he manage such a feat?
One glance at your timid hands patting his right arm immediately told him no, but Joker was a man of challenges.
If it was deemed impossible he would still try it. He needed to understand why you were so brave yet stupid, smart yet ditzy; Beautiful and untouchable.
He shouldn't be this attracted to you. He had plans to execute, a city to burn.
There was no time to play house with a weak civilian, yet here he was doing just that. Staying at your place, eating your meals and enjoying your company– as brief as it was these past few days.
Today was different. You came to him and initiated conversation.
You offered to help him shower and graced him with a smile. Was this a nudge in the right direction with you?
Excluding the phone call that ruined his advances, Joker had you right where he wanted you; cornered and at his mercy.
The scene couldn't be more perfect and Joker knew there wouldn't be another chance (at least for a while) to get what he wanted. Maybe he would have to use force.
Unfortunately he knew that would only push you away and possibly get him kicked out of your apartment. No, he would have to play this like a game of chess, slowly and with a level head in order to win.
He had all the time in the world to corner you again. He just couldn't screw up again.
"Joker?" He heard your voice call out to him. How long was he stuck in his head?
"Hey, where did your mind go?" You blessed him with a laugh and stepped into his line of sight.
"Well.. wherever you went.. I dried you off the best I could. I'll leave you to redo your makeup while I go fetch you some clean clothes to wear. I think leaving your wound open to breathe is also a good idea. Everything else is on the table by the window but if you need me or something else, just shout. I'll be in the next room changing the bed."
Joker nodded mutely and limped over to the table you mentioned.
It was more like a mini vanity with various makeup products and brushes already in neat cupholders and bins. He never saw you wear makeup around the apartment and he decided to ask you about it later.
You smiled as he sat down on the bench and closed the door, leaving Joker alone to his thoughts.
Ever since he met you a week ago the main focus of said thoughts were always you. What he wouldn't do to get you out of his head. Dealing with you physically was more than enough.
He spent too much time dwelling on you today. Joker searched for a makeup cleanser and stumbled upon your phone still on the sink, unlocked for the time being.
Fate was tempting him this day.
He could snoop around your phone, check your web history for blackmail, ruin your chances with Wayne with a single text, the possibilities were endless!
The screen began to dim preparing to lock and he only had a few precious seconds before his window of opportunity closed. The chaos he could invoke with your phone was too much for him to pass up.
Then he thought about your phone call with your manager. She made plans for you this Friday at The Prosperity.
It was a ritzy hall where even richer members of Gotham gathered to talk about nothing and flaunt their money and prestige to each other. But the event itself sparked a memory in his mind. This Friday. What was so special about this particular Friday?
Then it hit him.
Before your phone could lock, Joker picked it up and dialed a number.
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After you closed the bathroom door, you sighed loudly. You almost kissed Joker. Again. This was the second time, third strike, and you were out.
You slapped your cheeks groaning to yourself, 'No there won't be a third time!'
Right now you couldn't afford to think about that. Your focus was set on preparing Joker's bed and getting started on tonight's dinner. One task at a time was your game plan. Processing what happened in the shower could wait until bedtime. Or never.
You walked over to the bed and peeled the top cover back to inspect the sheets underneath. You found they were still fresh enough for Joker to use. The pillowcases however had to go.
With a task at hand, the time ticked by without your knowledge. It didn't dawn on you to check on Joker in the bathroom.
You knew it would take some time to apply his makeup but you were so focused on changing his bed and laying out an outfit for him you didn't realize that you drifted into the laundry room to wash the bedding and somehow ended up in the kitchen all in the span of an hour.
You were chopping up ingredients for Pad Thai when you had the idea to play some music.
"[insert phone carrier AI], shuffle my music please."
Nothing happened.
You stopped julienning a carrot and looked around the room for your phone.
You changed out of your wet clothes and it wasn't in the pockets, leaving your phone in no other place but where you left an hour prior. Still in the bathroom with Joker.
One exhale later, you left your meal prep in the kitchen to go retrieve your phone. If you were cooking you would do so with music blasting.
You opted out of wearing socks and your favorite color nail polish adorned your toes as you made your way back to the guest bedroom. The spare bedding you chose still matched the décor and you noticed the clothes you laid out on the foot of the bed were gone.
It was an indicator that Joker had left the bathroom in the past hour.
You knocked on the door, calling out for him. At first you didn't hear anything until you pressed your ear to the wood and picked up on a one way conversation. Was he talking to himself? At this point that wasn't concerning, Joker was indeed touched in the head.
"I don't care what you have to do. Don't blow your cover.. duh.. but keep an eye on the... Yes. I told you this'll be easyyy. The target."
You located your phone but why was Joker using it? You wouldn't dare ask how he got past your passcode.
Apparently the person on the other end had a lot to say since it was quiet for a few minutes until Joker responded.
He made that nondescript hum of his– the one that wasn't a sigh nor a grunt, just a noise that only he made, though this one sounded frustrated.
"I haven't decided yet. You'll know more once you geT there." There was a loud thud through the door that made you jump.
"Do your job.. but have fun doing it, mmkay? Track and then destroy. You know what to do from here."
Track and destroy? Have fun? Targets? You knew Joker was a man of pure evil but his calm demeanor about it sent a chill down your spine. Who did he just put a hit on? What was going on? This was beyond what you agreed upon.
You backed away from the door in fear. Until now, you only saw a domestic side of Joker.
Sure he threatened you a few times, but he didn't display any of his more violent tendencies during his stay with you. He was nothing but mannerable despite being a madman.
How could you forget that crucial detail? He wasn't a normal houseguest. Joker was a murderer– the most dangerous one in all of Gotham and actively wanted by the GCPD for escaping and killing nineteen people.
Just because you served him daily meals in bed and asked him if he liked ginseng tea or Earl Grey, didn't mean you were safe around him. You couldn't trust the devil personified and you definitely shouldn't make friends with him either.
His secret phone call was your wake up call. You had to remember to send Cindy a bouquet of flowers for calling you when she did. If Joker had kissed you in the shower, where would you be right now?
You didn't need that toxic thinking in your life. You needed to protect yourself and put up a permanent wall between you and Joker. There couldn't be any more room for errors. Whatever chemistry that was brewing between you and the jokester had to stop now.
With your mind made up, you waited a few more minutes before knocking on the door again.
Another vague hum from Joker granted you entry.
Of course you didn't know what to expect when you walked in but seeing Joker seated at the vanity with a fresh coat of clown makeup on while wearing a light grey shirt with black sweatpants (thankfully you had sense to not buy grey) was not at the top of your list.
After that phone call you didn't know anything about him anymore. Like you knew anything to begin with..
He turned to face you with a pensive glare. Did he suspect you overheard his conversation? You waited long enough not to be suspicious– your book research taught you about that reoccurring troupe in various media.
Apparently he did. "How much did ya hear?"
If you remembered correctly, experts said to deflect the accusation. You blurted out of the first thing that came to mind.
"I see the clothes fit, that's good." You pointed at his clothes making him look down.
He looked good in casual attire although you wouldn't admit that aloud. The shirt was snug but offered him breathing room whereas the sweats you dug out of storage (an ex of yours left them ages ago) fit him a little too well. You had to go clothes shopping for him before you jumped his bones.
"What did you hear?" Joker asked again.
Don't look away, it's a sign of guilt. You thought.
"Why were you using my phone?" You walked over to the vanity and snatched it off. It was locked and your phone screen glowed, prompting you to enter your passcode.
"Pause. How did you unlock my phone Joker?" He narrowed his eyes at your attempt to interrogate him.
The fact you were trying to change the subject confirmed you heard something and given the topic of his conversation, that wasn't good.
He didn't make contact with his crew in days and used your phone as a burner of sorts to keep his operations up and running to execute an off the table mission. The phone call was long and nothing said was for the faint of heart.
Joker wanted to protect you from this, he just wasn't consciously aware of that yet.
You crossed your arms using the height difference to look down at Joker seated. He didn't look intimidated in the slightest. He propped his arm on the vanity and began a staring contest with you.
He was used to being tortured by seasoned cops, wardens, the criminally insane, even Batman himself. What were you gonna do?
You pouted your lip and batted your lashes, throwing in an adorable huff in for better results. No matter how tough Joker thought he was, no one could resist your puppy dog face.
Joker blinked, shifted, and resisted the urge to look away but your eyes were hypnotic– using unnatural powers against him. He folded faster than he'd like to admit.
You smirked and leaned in close (Joker thought for a second you were going to kiss him) and bopped his freshly painted nose. "Ha! I win! Now, who did you call? You're acting like I can't go to my call history and see the number."
You did just that but ran into a problem. It was gone.
"Judging by your face.. they already destroyed the call trace. It's none of your business, Bunny." Joker stood up to stretch and the helm of his shirt rose up, letting you see a row of muscles.
You cleared your throat, looking away.
"You really shouldn't leave your phone unlocked around strangers Y/n." He made a move towards you, "It's.. not.. safe." By the end of his warning, he towered over you, looking down at you with a dangerous gleam in his eye.
You definitely heard him order someone's murder. It was the only explanation as to why he needed to erase the phone call.
This was a murderer standing before you. If he wasn't in your apartment, he would be out on the streets of Gotham wreaking havoc. You had to remember that fact and never forget it.
Your mouth flopped like a fish as the words became stuck in your throat. What could you say after overhearing his phone call? Nothing. So you decided to distance yourself and feign ignorance.
You closed your eyes. "Well, I ahem. I'm glad you got to shower and freshen up. I-I changed the bed for you and I'm working on dinner."
You were still ignoring him. Two could play this game then. "Oh? What're we having?" Joker asked.
How could he be so casual about this? Tears threatened to fall from your eyes and you didn't understand why you were so bent out of shape about it.
You invited him into your home to save your own hide. You didn't sign up to be an accomplice. You were technically a hostage. Your generosity and kindness was done purely out of survival.
So why did your heart squeeze at the thought of Joker going behind your back?
You had no ties to him despite your feelings trying to make something out of nothing.
"Um. Pad Thai with fresh spring rolls and bok choy. I should um g-get back to cooking. Yeah. Cooking..." You turned to leave but Joker's hand reached out and grabbed yours.
It wasn't clammy like when he was bleeding out on your couch. Now it was warm with pronounced calluses on the palms.
You didn't want to know what weapon he frequently used in order to form them. It was hard to ignore the way his hand fit perfectly in yours like a puzzle piece snapping into place.
Somehow Joker read your thoughts and squeezed your hand, not letting go.
He could sense the brick wall forming that separated you from him. He didn't want to be iced out, not again.
He didn't like the emptiness your absence left behind. This was all new and confusing to him and you weren't helping him understand any of it!
"Y/n. Whatever you heard, it's not what you think."
He mourned the loss of your hand when you fled towards the door.
"I'll call you when dinner is ready." You mumbled over your shoulder.
And just like that Joker knew. He was back to square one. Perhaps even further from earning your trust.
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griim · 1 year
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DEAD BY DAYLIGHT VERSE
Even from her birth, Gemma's father made it clear that her mother was a nobody, much like she was. Gemma had believed that her mother was dead or something worse. Through paperwork, many years later, Gemma found she was alive but knew nothing of them because of the machine used by the Rossum Corporation. Meaning that to Alexandria, Gemma did not exist, something Gemma had become used to knowing. The young girl knew that she could never have a ‘normal’ family life. But Gemma made sure that Alexandria would not know of her or her Christian's existence, even if this would be possibly the only chance at having a family she would ever have.
During one of the many nights she began stockpiling evidence against her family, Gemma found a secret file. This file contained information about her and what they had been doing to her. Opening it, Gemma was horrified to find out that they had been experimenting on her, using the chair in hopes to remake it and break her in the process. They were hoping to make her a weapon, for the highest bidder. And reading through the files, each line got worse. These things done to Gemma should never happen to anyone. Let alone a child. That was when the voice started, ‘Take revenge, you know you want to.’ A voice that seemed to come from nowhere. However, the thought did cross her mind. Having enough, she would not be their test subject anymore. Grabbing what she could, Gemma stuffed it in her backpack and ran away at seventeen. 
Years passed, and Gemma joined the military, slowly amassing kills, almost as if something else lived within her. Something dark. Some soldiers even rumored she e n j o y e d the killing. Whispers began, calling her The Reaper. During this time, she met Jordan, someone who looked past this ‘darkness’ within her. Showed her the gentle touch she had wanted all along. However, that gentleness and peace ripped from her. 
Gemma remembers it as such; 
“We were out on a typical mission, going in when no one else could or would. You know, because we are the ballsy type. As we approached a small village, things seemed fine and quiet, but we were used to that. So, in that time, we made jokes and, you know, shoot the shit, as you do with people you consider family. That didn’t last long. Nicole, our unit's dog, alerted us to something. So, in typical fashion, we started to scope out the area. But it was too late. We had been ambushed.” Her heart began to race, even when she swore she felt nothing. Gulping, she remained stone-faced, not needing to show them any emotions. 
‘Take cover’, ‘coming from the east’, ‘hold your ground.’ The commands sounded clear as day in her mind. If she had done a better job at giving commands, Jordan would still have been here, or if she had not decided to go into the town, he'd be alive. 
“So, we took cover and began to return fire, something we were used to dealing with, most of us being seasoned members. Jordan, being my partner in the front. We had been behind cover together, taking turns shooting and reloading. Covering for the other. Stuff we both had done hundreds of times before,” this was where the guilt set in, a survivor who believed it should have been t h e m. “As I reloaded, it jammed for a split second, and that second cost Jordan his life…” Pausing, she struggled internally with speaking the words. “He had been shot. Pretty badly, you get used to seeing gunshot wounds. But because it was him, it felt different… After he fell behind cover,” once again, those screamed commands echoed in her mind.
‘Man down’, ‘Man fucking down’, ‘we need a medevac.’ However, now knowing that there never was one.
“I assessed the situation and called for help, but nothing came. Jordan was dying, and I had to hold off the enemy until my unit made its way to me. I could not cry. Because that would not have done shit at that moment. I was a soldier, damn it. One of our operatives told me we needed to move a bomb was set to go, it was all a trap. And, me being me, I wanted to save him, not just because I loved him, but because he was part of our unit, we do not leave men behind.” The tears fought desperately to fall from her eyes, but Gemma held them back. "Jordan knew he would not make it, so he told the team and me to go. I fought like hell to bring him with us, and when they attempted to grab me, that voice from my childhood. When I felt so much rage returned, telling me to fight back if he meant so much to you. Then something snapped in Gemma, she turned on her men, and in what seemed like a blur, she saw nothing but red, and then, she felt p e a c e. 
Blood soaked the ground around Gemma, and the bodies of her team littered the ground at her feet. A laugh escaped her lips as a voice from the darkness beckoned her from over Jordan's body, whispering. 'It is a very mean and nasty place, the world. And it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently. But not you. You became that mean and nasty thing.' Smiling, the woman stumbled over to her lover's body, laying herself over him, blood covering her. As the final ticks of the bomb sounded, she looked up. Face met with a blast of flame. The flame consumed nearly all of her face, and as Gemma thought it was over, something engulfed her, The Red Forest. 
A surviving Unit member swears he heard a laugh, something evil coming from her, and a mask. A skull mask shrouded in a cover, then she was gone.  Who knows, maybe you will find yourself facing The Reaper. 
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oh my god, i love your MH time travel idea. did you have any other ideas for it??
OH BOY DO I
(Referring to this!)
Warning, this may be… Incomprehensible. I just have a lot of ideas and they aren’t fully fleshed out so I’m just throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks. Hope you like a wall full of spaghetti, Anon!
- While going back in time reverses the physical effects that Operator Sickness had, they all still carry the trauma of its effects and what happened during it, so while only Tim is experiencing symptoms (though currently managing them with his medication), they aren’t completely off scot-free.
- I imagine it takes them a minute to realize exactly how many people woke up with memories of the previous timeline. I feel like Brian would want to tell someone and that someone would end up being Tim and then they’d both realize they remembered and compare notes
- I HC Seth and Sarah as roommates so they immediately find out as well. Amy and Jessica too. Pretty much the only person that thinks they’re in this alone at first is Jay but fortunately that doesn’t last too long because maybe Brian starts trying to subtly figure out if anyone else has any memories by asking questions only someone who knew would know, and finally Tim, Jay, Brian, Seth, and Sarah all realize they’re on the same page.
- Imagine their shock and suspicion when they realize Alex is not. Further suspicion that only grows when Amy and Jessica show up meaning Alex is the only one who doesn’t remember. Maybe they try and test him to see if he’s faking it and if he’ll slip up.
- He doesn’t. Alex really doesn’t remember anything.
- There are… Lots of things to work out. Not just with where to go next but there’s still some animosity within the group and especially regarding the members of ToTheArk. Influenced by an otherworldly being or not, it’s still something they need to resolve. Not to mention, Amy points out that Alex was influenced too, an argument that keeps being brought up because nobody really knows what to think. Alex killed people, but how much of that was Alex and how much of it was something else entirely?
- Meanwhile, Alex just really wanted to work on his film but while he can location scout and work on the script all he wants, without actors, it’s not really gonna go anywhere, and his actors keep finding excuses to put it off.
- Alex has no idea what’s going on with everyone because Tim and Jay are polite at best and usually tense around him, Jessica keeps looking at him like she doesn’t know what to think, Brian can’t seem to make up his mind, Seth and Sarah flat out refuse to be in a room alone with him, even Amy is acting distant. He feels like he’s missing something but he doesn’t know what and nobody is telling him. All the conversations he catches sound like nonsense too so he’s pretty much completely in the dark too.
- Since Alex is out and about location scouting, he ends up catching the early stages of Operator Sickness. The next time he gets into a coughing fit in front of any of them, they freak out and Alex doesn’t get why.
- The arguments get worse. They can’t tell if Alex is doomed to repeat the cycle and if they need to take him out in order to prevent it, or if they can make sure he doesn’t turn out the same this time
- Being around Alex makes them all conflicted. Because this Alex is the Alex that they became friends with in the first place and they missed this version of him a lot but it’s one thing to miss it and another thing to get it back, especially considering a good chunk of them last remember dying because of him before waking up in the past. They don’t know if they can trust him, or if they’ll just get hurt all over again if they get attached
- Their distance from Alex causes a lot of internal issues for Alex himself. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s the odd man out here, and the problem they have. He just doesn’t understand why and it’s frustrating but whenever he gets frustrated, it just drives them all further away and makes it worse. He doesn’t know what to do.
- Then maybe (still deciding on when), one day, Alex wakes up. And he remembers everything and understands better than ever. He doesn’t blame them. He didn’t help them at all in the end. But maybe he can now.
- In order to stop the sickness, it’s best to cut it off at the source. Alex doesn’t know what he can do against a monster like that but since it no longer has such a tight hold over him, he can do something this time. He has to do something. And if he dies trying? Then at the very least, it can’t use him against them anymore.
- While Alex does try to stand up to the Operator, it goes rather poorly. Fortunately, someone finds him unconscious somewhere (maybe Brian), drags him back to one of their apartments, and they have a talk when he wakes up. They’re still not the most comfortable around him but suffice to say, Alex regaining his memories and immediately choosing to attempt to fight the Operator proves that he’s not gonna repeat the same mistakes twice, solving that matter at the very least.
- Cue a whole lot of healing while attempting to figure out a way to get rid of a creature beyond their understanding
That’s about what I got! Again, just spitballed ideas, definitely needs some more fine tuning but it’s a start. Hope you enjoyed!
Also ty for the Ask, I love rambling about funny little AUs and it gives me all the more reason to :)
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bulletproofarcology · 6 months
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Week 1: Jungkook
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Jungkook poked his head out of the bathroom at your entrance, eager eyes meeting yours breifly before lowering respectively. How sweet, he was already somewhat trained.
According to his paperwork, he’d had one owner previous to yourself and she was rather gentle with him. No scars or bruises to be found, but he was a little malnourished. He wasn’t with her for long, and rumor has it that he was only really there to fill in the cracks of clean up duty. His old master preferred feminine slaves, so you assume he wasn’t used much, if at all.
“Hello, Jungkook. You can speak, by the way.”
Jungkook perked up like a puppy. “I can?” His voice rang out like bells. He had a light accent, not obvious enough to know what his first language was, but enough to know it wasn’t English. “Thank you…”
“Call me Mistress, hun.” Oh shit. “Oh yeah, and you are allowed to make relationships with the other slaves here. I’m not sure if your past owner allowed that. I try to say that as soon as possible, because the allowance kinda sets up the mood for the rest of the conversation.”
Jungkook has stars in his eyes. “Really?! I mean- really? I always wanted a slave friend! It gets so lonely when my owner is busy.”
“Well no worries there, buddy. All I have right now is you seven and Strawberry. I’ll have plenty of time to take care of you.” You wink.
Jungkook blushes a bit. “Thank you…”
“But for now, lets get some clothes on you. You could do much better than being just naked.”
Jungkook, wow he was so open with his expressions, seemed to wilt. The half chub he was operating with downstairs wilted with him.
Oh yeah, he was into humiliation. Lets see if you could work with that.
The closet answered your prayers, thankfully, as you pull out a single item of clothing.
A black, lacy, spaghetti strap training bra. His practically non-existent breasts would look cute in it, while the rest of his naughty body hung loose.
The slave’s eyes popped open at the humiliating get up and his hard on became, well, a hard on again.
“J-Just that? Are you sure, Mistress?” His face was red.
“Yup, is that going to be a problem for my new little slut?” You snap back, wanting a reaction out of him.
“Nope!” He squeaked out, grabing the offered bra and rushing to put it on.
And failing.
“Let me help you there.” You walk around to the back of him and take the bra out of his hands. Of course he wouldn’t know how to put on a bra, dummy.
Hooking it on, you explain the rest of the rules to him rather quickly. Okay so, no sex or getting off unless its with me, Strawberry or its for a job. Orgasms are rewards. This room is yours to decorate to your liking. I can get you some paints if you’d prefer to customize the walls. I’ll be getting maids soon, so don’t worry about messes.”
You could see the back of Jungkook's head nod, his dark brown, almost black, hair clean and shiny. “Yes, Mistress.”
You blow on the nape of his neck causing the little hairs to stand up straight.
“You’re all done, baby.”
Jungkook spins around to face you and runs his hands over his covered breasts. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re about to get on your knees and beg for cock.” He gulps at the words. “But really, you look great. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure the other slaves will love looking at you too…”
Your wristband vibrated against your skin. Shit, looks like it’s time you got back to your emails and paperwork. Acquiring seven different slaves legally actually took quite a few steps. Steps you had not quite finished taking. Yoongi and Hoseok would have to wait another day before you could see them in person. Stupid paperwork, stupid emails.
“Sorry to run so soon, Jungkook, but I’ve got some work to do.” You patted his broad tan shoulder, hmm meaty, and turned to leave. You’ll have to remember to send out a message before the end of the day with any information you forgot to tell the slaves in person.
“See you later, Mistress!” Behind you, Jungkook looked on with half lidded, love stuck eyes.
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alltheficsiwant · 2 years
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Here We Go Again (Same Old Hawkins, Or Not Sequel)
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PART ONE | SUMMER OF '85
Summary: The Summer of '85 is on the roll. Reader has started her job as a printing personnel in the Hawkins Post with the help of Nancy and Jonathan who are both in their internship as a writer and photographer respectively. Eddie on the other hand is working as a part time mechanic at Jaeger’s Auto shop while Steve continues to work at Scoop’s Ahoy with Robin alongside him.
The kids, well, they are enjoying their summer with the mall in full operation and the upcoming fair that is being planned by the Mayor. Really, as long as all of the upside down remains quiet, everything will be great.
Unfortunately, their plans are going to be in ruins when one Billy Hargrove starts to take interest in the reader. Though, it was much better if it was just some misguided infatuation but apparently there is much more into it than meets the eye.
Reader was really happy not to deal with the upside down and would face a million Billy Hargrove, in fact the rest of them would be happy not to deal with it at all. Apparently, its not done yet. It is just getting started.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Harrington! Reader
Warnings: There are depictions of minor violence here. Be warned.
Author's Note: Hi! Here is the sequel for my first story, Same Old Hawkins or Not? If you haven't read it yet. Click the link below to access it. It's better to read it first to understand some of the context. I have started posting this in Ao3. I will not link it here until the story is finished there. I have focused my posting there since I kind of don't receive any traction here in tumblr. Please support your content creators by REBLOGGING AND LEAVING A COMMENT. Its okay to leave a like but PLEASE REBLOG AFTER OR IF YOU DON'T WANT YOU CAN LEAVE ANY COMMENT.
This is not yet edited. I apologize in advance for any errors. Enjoy! - J
Same Old Hawkins, Or Not? | Part TWO
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Seriously, Indiana heat is stifling, especially if you are working with thick black ink.
You promised yourself you wouldn’t be dealing with a job that involves chemicals but you are not a woman of your words. Whatever happened last year was kind of proof of that. 
You say, you wanted boring but you threw yourself headfirst to the fray of drama.
You say you are here to have fun, well guess what you got attached to it. Who wouldn’t get attached to a sexy and endearing metal head?
You say you wouldn’t be like your father but here you are.
Technically, the chemicals you are handling are ink but still, the principle of mixing anything liquid is there. Though, you would rather mix ink than anything else. You should have considered working at the bar but you are far too an alcoholic not to be tempted with the shelves of alcohol. So, ink it is.
You carefully put the proper oil to achieve the right amount of thickness for the ink. Any thicker or any thinner, the paper would be in ruins. You managed to impress the people in the printing section of the post during your first day. You fixed what to be a withstanding problem with the ink that is why sometimes the paper is a bit botched. Now it's just perfect and you suddenly became the Rockstar of your section.
Well, you don’t want that extra attention, thank you very much.
“Hey,” You carefully mixed the ink now with the stirring rod before you looked up to the owner of the voice. You came face to face with Nancy who is standing there with a nearly empty cup holder of coffee and a paper bag. Your eyes scanned her face and saw the light frown on her brow despite the smile she was giving you. It just made it look like a grimace and you kind of know where it came from.
“They are giving you the misogynistic treatment again?” You opted as a greeting as Nancy huffed at that. She immediately dropped the façade and grumpily placed two coffee cups on the counter. 
“They never really stop,” Nancy grumbled and you lifted the stirring rod off the mixture. You started to remove your gloves as you walked over to her.
“That’s Hawkins for you,” You mused as you gave your thanks to the coffee before you continued talking. “If not the stereotypical drama about partners cheating or any type of drama. There is also the stereotypical views of men are better at things,”
“Just frustrating, I just want to contribute and yet they brush me off as if I am nothing,” Nancy grumbled as she opened the paper bag and pulled out a sandwich. She offered it but you quickly shook your head as you leaned down towards a lunchbox. You opened it up to have the sandwich Steve made for you. “Emilia said that every intern receives that same treatment but they treat Jonathan differently!”
You just listened and did not offer any more comment while Nancy’s rant. Now, this is a bit of a surprise. After Nancy’s and Steve’s history, it's not really mandatory for you to make friends with the girl that broke your cousin’s heart. Though since working here in the Hawkins Post right after graduation, you and her gravitate towards each other. You found a friend in her and you think she did too in you as she started to release her frustrations.
Something of a surprise since Nancy looked to be someone who is always put together. 
“--I just need one chance that is all! One big chance to prove that I am not just good for errands. I am good writer,”
“You are actually,” You suddenly spoke as you took a sip of the coffee. Nancy stopped and looked at you.
“What?”
“You are a good writer. You are editor-in-chief of the newspaper in your sophomore year and still is this coming junior year and the whole school reads your paper. Hell, I did,” You told her as you turned to look at her. “Your pieces were quite more interesting than what grown men write in the Hawkins Post. Even the one that involved the Hawkins's lab,”
Nancy then bit her lip as she looked down at her coffee. 
“So yeah, you are a good writer and probably better than those men there,” You pointed to the adjacent building where the writing happens and where the pictures are developed before your department receives them to print. “You’ll have your time. I promise,”
Nancy then offered a smile as she nodded. She mumbled a thanks with your name as she ate the last of her sandwich. You polished off your coffee and looked at the clock.
“Ugh, though you might want to move it because break is over,” You motioned to the clock and Nancy cursed as she frantically tried to clean up. “Leave it be, I’ll take care of it. Just go!”
“Thank you!” She shouted as you watched her run towards that other building. You shook your head as you moved to lift the tub of ink you were mixing. Though you stopped short when you heard a squeak in the corner.
You raised a brow at that. When it did again, you slowly came around the corner of one of the printing machines and saw mice walking in a line and through a small hole that leads outside. Though, nothing is odd about it until you notice them walking as if there is something controlling them.
You were about to come closer when the door of the building opened. You jumped and turned to see some of your co-workers coming back from lunch. Though one of them stopped short when they saw you.
Mr. Baltazar, the head of the printing press, looked at you curiously. “You didn’t take your break again?” He asked as he said your name in disdain in the end. 
“I did Mr. Baltazar, you just caught me—” You turned to see that the mice are all gone. Mr. Baltazar must have followed your vision because you heard him curse behind you.
“Oh damn, those rats, they have been roaming around here quite often,” Mr. Baltazar said and you looked at him curious now about that.
“Roaming around?”
“Yes, there has been a weird increase of rats around town but I am guessing they are coming from that abandoned mill not far from it.” He mused as he turned towards one worker and ordered them to plaster the hole. “Did you see them?”
“Yeah, they were just walking out of the building,” You told him and Mr. Baltazar looked to be delighted with that.
“Good riddance! We have enough of them chewing the papers we print on,” He huffed as he turned towards you. “Now that hole is settled, were you able to make new batches of ink?”
“Yes sir, they are right there?” You pointed at the tub.
“Great, we have to print a special edition paper for the town library. Please get started on that,”
You took a last glance at where you have seen the mice and decided that it's not a thought you want to dwell on for today.
“Yes sir! On it,”
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You locked up the printing press for today. Mr. Baltazar and some of the guys have already clocked out ten minutes ago. You could hear them chatting up front the building. Probably getting their nicotine fix before leaving for the day.
The printing was finished a bit later than scheduled and it was past eight o’clock. You hoped the overtime was paid since you were supposed to be meeting up with Eddie at the mechanic shop. Now you are going to meet him instead at his trailer.
You were really looking forward to seeing Eddie in the mechanic gear and all. It was the highlight of your everyday routine since the summer started. He looks too good and sometimes you can’t help but have make out sessions. Which is the only thing you have done without having a bit of a panic attack.
Yes, you are still recovering from what happened to the Shit Show. It was something you and Eddie knew that would be with you but Eddie is a patient man. At least, when it comes to you. Now you wanted that and instead of a short ten minute wait, you have to drive thirty minutes across town to the trailer park.
With that in thought, you hurriedly locked up the machines and got your bag. Though as you approached the front of a building you heard Mr. Baltazar talking to someone.
“--- inside locking up. Who are you though?” You heard him ask. Thinking he was talking with someone he knew. You decided to continue walking, though you froze as you heard the other voice.
“I’m Billy Hargrove sir, a friend,” he introduced himself as he mentioned your name. Politeness heavy on his voice. Your eyes widened at that. What the fuck is wrong with him?
“A friend huh? Did she know you were coming?” Mr. Baltazar asked
“No, I am here to surprise her,” Billy offered and you could hear Mr. Baltazar humming.
“If you were her friend, I haven’t seen you much around her,” Your manager offered and you could detect the suspicion in his voice. “I only saw her cousin, a bunch of kids and his boy friend. That Munson boy,”
You heard Billy chuckled.
“I have been busy with my job as lifeguard in the pool but we are quite close,” Billy continued to talk back. Irritation is clear in his voice now that Mr. Baltazar is not backing down.
“If you are really here for her—”
A loud sound of an engine stopping almost right in front of the entrance can be heard. Then a loud slam of the doors followed it. You listened closely to determine who it was.
“What are you doing here Hargrove?” You sighed in relief as you recognized Nancy’s voice.
“Wheeler, I didn’t know that you would be coming here late at night,”
“I didn’t know you had something to do here Hargrove,” Nancy spat as you heard her going nearer. “Hey Mr. Baltazar, is he giving you any trouble?”
“Hey Nancy,” Mr. Baltazar greeted back, relaying to Nancy that he was trying to find you.
“Really? Hargrove? You knew that you are still not allowed to come near her,” 
“I’m just here to make amends okay?” Billy answered back, the politeness gone as he let his irritation shine through. “I promised her to prove her wrong, that is why I’m here,”
“Do it elsewhere, she doesn’t need to give you a time or day. Just leave or else I'll call Hopper,” 
“Wheeler—” “Hey!” You heard Jonathan’s yell before you could hear what Billy could have said. You were tempted to wrench open the doors and step out. You swore if he touched Nancy--
“I suggest you follow her advice, kid,” It was Mr. Baltazar who finally spoke up. There was a tense silence before you heard a loud huff.
"Just please make sure she's alright?" Billy suddenly said and then you could hear him walk away. You brows furrowed that. What is he playing at? You waited silently as you heard a car engine starting up before it finally left the driveway. Once you knew he was away, you slowly came out of the building to see Nancy, Jonathan and Mr. Baltazar. It was Nancy who looked at you with relief.
“Hey girl,” She greeted and you offered a small smile to her before you turned to Mr. Baltazar.
“Mr. Baltazar, I’m sorry–”
“No need to apologize kid, he screams trouble anyway. You should all go home okay?” He said and snuffed out the cigarette he was holding as he walked away. He waved at them goodbye before entering his own car then driving away.
You sighed as you turned to the both of them. Though before you could dwell on what happened and why Billy suddenly showed up here. You looked at them and saw that they looked quite stressed.
“Umm, I would like to thank the both of you for showing up on time to be a buffer for Billy and have a discussion of why he suddenly appeared here but you both seemed…” you trailed off as you looked over at their appearance. “Stressed?”
“Right,” Nancy jumped up and turned towards her handbag as she shuffled around it. “We found something,” she added. You looked up to Jonathan and asked with your brows but he just motioned to Nancy.
She pulled out a piece of paper and gave it to you. You looked down to see words written on it.
Mrs. Driscoll
Rats eating fertilizers
All over town, weird rat activities
You raised your brows even higher than that.
“Okay? Is this some kind of new story idea?” You asked helplessly as you looked at Nancy.
“Yesterday, we went to a possible story. Mrs. Driscoll called us with a story about weird Rat activities. They were eating fertilizers and gathering up—”
“---At the mill,” you connected the story from Mr. Baltazar’s earlier statement and Nancy looked at you surprised.
“You know about this?” 
“No, I heard from Mr. Baltazar and I saw rats like walking in a line and walking out of a building. It's not even afraid of any human presence,” you remembered the cats you saw earlier today. Jonathan and Nancy looked at each other before they turned to you.
“Okay, so the rats have unusual activities and they don’t usually eat fertilizers because,”
“It's poisonous, they would have died within a few—” You told her with your eyebrows scrunched together. “Wait, is this the story you told me earlier that got rejected?”
Nancy nodded. “And we actually need proof. Me and Jonathan are going there at Mrs. Driscoll,”
You looked at them for a moment. “You want me to come with you guys?” You asked and thoughts of spending the rest of the night with Eddie vanishes at that. 
Nancy nodded. 
“Why?” You asked.
“Well, we kind of need someone who knows her way around chemicals and raw materials,” Nancy mumbled.
“You want my expertise or this is something entirely weird that you just want me there,” You cleared and Nancy just closed her eyes.
“Look, we just need your help okay? The more eyes the better and they both like you so, they might believe me better,” Nancy offered and you just stared at her. “You know, also with photographic evidence,”
“You just know that you are taking me away from my precious time with my own boyfriend,” You told her and Nancy then bit her lip.
“Please?”
You sighed and closed your eyes. “Okay, you owe me one. Let me call Eddie first okay?”
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Turns out Eddie wasn’t home either and he told Wayne that if you ever try to find him. He was spending time with Dustin since he just came back from camp. Also, he was off for the next five days, Jaeger wouldn’t be able to be there to mentor him because he had to leave for an urgent matter upstate. He would make it up to you on another day.
With that, you didn’t bother to check on Steve, because the house is empty most of the time. He might be sleeping in someone’s bed right now. 
You ride your motorbike as you follow Nancy and Jonathan, though once you reach the house. It started to rain and you managed to park it in a shade before running with Nancy and Jonathan towards the house. 
“God seriously, why did it suddenly rain?” You asked as you tried to wipe the water off you. “It's summer for god’s sakes” 
“That’s Hawkins for you,” Jonathan only mused and you can’t help but curse. Before you can speak Nancy started to knock on the door. You watched them silently as they tried again though there were hushed arguments through it.
You decided to stray and looked through the slightly closed curtains. You peeked and saw that all the lights had been turned on. You were about to point it out when you turned to see Nancy walk in. You followed them silently while Jonathan scolded her. Though as you stepped inside the house, you felt the familiar shiver on your spine. You straightened up almost immediately as you took a sharp breath.
Though the two didn’t notice it, Nancy continued to call out Mrs. Driscoll and they had walked further in. You shook your head and tried to rationalize that feeling.
Though you know now that you shouldn’t ignore those signs.
“Guys, I think we should—” Screech a sound stopped you as the three of you turned towards where it came from. Followed by some shuffling, Nancy looked over at the two of you before she proceeded to move towards the sound.
Nancy continues to call out to the older woman but only the screeches and scratching can be heard. Then the next thing you know, the three of you are down in the basement. The first thing you saw was the opened bags of fertilizer. You knew right away that these were the poisonous type. The one that cannot be consumed by any life forms with the chemical it has.
You walked over it, ahead of Jonathan and Nancy as you crouched down on it. Though before you can mention anything, the sound you heard was now accompanied with a growl. That made the three of you stand up straight. Then you glanced towards each other.
Nancy picked up a hammer while Jonathan had a screwdriver. You saw a small shovel and decided to pick it up. Slowly the three of you moved to the side, the other part of the basement. Your eyes widened as you saw an old woman munching on some fertilizers like there is no fucking tomorrow.
“Mrs. Driscoll?” Nancy called out and as soon as Mrs. Driscoll turned and she screeched. You moved out of the way and hoped that the two did too as she barreled forward. Though her face planted on the ground and you immediately pinned her down with your body.
You looked up at the two while you struggled.
“Aren’t you two giving me a hand here?!”
Once Mrs. Driscoll was apprehended and calmed down. Nancy called for an ambulance and the three of you waited for them to arrive. You had your hand up in your hair as you processed what you have seen while Nancy and Jonathan argued silently.
When the ambulance arrived, Mrs. Driscoll managed to wake up and kept crying out that she needed to go back. That she needs to go, though her cries were ignored as she was wheeled away from the scene and they deemed the three of you can finally go home. Though before you leave you can’t help but point out the elephant in the room.
“Okay, what the hell is that?” You exclaimed as the two turned towards you. They looked at each other and shrugged.
“We are not sure,” Nancy offered and you nodded.
“Okay, we are not sure but what do you think it is?” you asked, fearing the worst.
“The worst it can be is a plague,” Nancy explained and you bit your lip at that.
“You are saying that this could be another black plague?” You asked and Nancy nodded. You nodded as you suddenly remembered Mrs. Driscoll’s behavior, the chemicals you saw and the weird sound she made. “As far as I could remember, the black plague may had been from rats but I do not remember it making people rabid,”
“That is why this is a good story. We can warn people about it,” Nancy as she turned towards Jonathan.
“Well, I don’t know. We just found the woman and this would be reported back to the family that we are involved,” Jonathan said. Nancy just looked at him exasperated. You saw that this would be a fight that you do not want to witness.
“You know what, let’s call it a night. I just need to get those images out of my head,” Ignoring once again the strange feeling you had before. 
Well, that is the future problem again. Great, what a summer.
To be continued...
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61 notes · View notes
dazed--xx · 3 years
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Hello, I Love You(1)
Request: hello! I saw that your requests were open so i really wanted to rq a namjoon x reader one! i'm not sure if you do light yandere but if you don't, it's alright i have two possible ones! 1. namjoon is a therapist, with y/n deciding to try therapy again as she does have some daddy issues. He's really attracted to her and uses the information and insecurities she tells him to use it against her. she does fall for him too, with him always there 4 her. happy ending, smut too? thanks!! 2. Bodyguard, buff!joon who is a huge simp for reader. He's literally always beside her and protects her from everything. Being so tall, muscular, handsome, and kind really attracts her to him. He occasionally flirts with her, and she does it too. However, they both thought the other didnt like each other that way, just platonically. they somehow get together in the end though! idiots to lovers, smut and angst please!! thank you sm!
Member: Soft Yandere! Namjoon x Reader
Genre: Angst, slow burn,  
Word Count: 2,010
Trigger Warning: mentions of suicide, self-harm, therapy, negligent parents, bribery, age gap, crossing professional boundaries, forceful hug,  
A/N: so, I decided to actually make the reader from “The Lies Your Eyes Tell” so this is kinda like a series continuation of that with how the reader processes Jin’s death, how she comes to terms with it and how she moves on from it. I love that this requester gave this long detailed request for one of 2 stories and as much as I liked the bodyguard idea there are just so many bodyguard au's and I don’t see a lot of therapist ones so I wanted to do something different. Now you don’t need to read TLYET to understand this story but it would be a good idea to read it so you can understand who the reader was before the incident in this fic, this whole fic was inspired by Hello, I Love You by Adore Delano, but this chapter was inspired by Toy by Block B. anyway REQUESTS ARE OPEN BUYMEACOFFEE’S ARE ALWAYS WRITTEN FIRST AND POSTED THE DAY OF THE REQUEST.  
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(Not my gif)
Life has not been kind to you, the days passing after Seokjin shot himself you’ve become silent. The memory of the shouting match that drove him over the edge on repeat in your head. His funeral was attended by the whole town, excluding you. The Kim’s were a wealthy bunch, the most influential family in your little town; you’ve always heard the rumors of them being a troubled bunch and only after Jin’s passing you could try to understand why he was so desperate for you to love him back. His mother was a ruthless debutante, she ruled her family with an iron fist. You can remember how she walked into your house as you sat on your couch in shock after the police had arrived  
*Flashback*  
“J-Jin p-please put the gun down” you cry shakily. He shakes his head forcefully “you don’t care about me Y/n, you don’t love me”  
“Yes, I do, I love you Jin please” he shakes his head in denial “you hate me I'm a psycho remember, you want me to leave you alone right y/n” your eyes widen as he approaches you “RIGHT Y/N! ANSWER ME YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE YOU ALONE, RIGHT?! RIGHT!?” “YES, PLEASE FUCK LEAVE ME ALONE JIN I CAN'T BREATHE I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE GO AWAY”  
It all happens so fast before you can even process it you can hear a loud BANG and feel a warm liquid splatter onto your face as you let out a loud scream as you see Jins lifeless body drop on the floor in front of you. The screams continuously releasing themselves from your throat, as you stared at his lifeless figure on the floor your voice dulls. A warmth spreading through you as you stare down at your shaky blood-spattered hands.  
a small sinister smile spreads across your lips.  
The strong metallic smell burning at your nose, bile rising in your throat as you scramble for your discarded phone. Quickly dialing 911  
“911 where is your emergency?” the operator states. You stare back at Jin’s body, your hands shaking; voice lost
“Hello?” the operator calls out softly. You stutter out your address. “h-he I-I'm I-” you gasp out. “t-there’s blo-od ev-everywhe-re I-I h-he-he wouldn’t put it down I-I th-think h-he's”  
“Okay I need you to take a breath what happened?” the operator asks calmly. You slowly explain as the operator reassures a patrol officer has been dispatched to your location, you sit frozen across the room staring at Jin’s body lying in the middle of the floor.  
“I need you to open the door the officer is there, okay?” the operator calls out. You slowly crawl over to the door.  
Time passing in slow motion, you at in shock staring out your front window a thin figure obscuring your view. Wide eyed and in shock your eyes trail over the lanky woman. An envelope extended from her hand; you stare at her confused.  
“I apologize for my son inconveniencing you, I will pay to have your clothes and house cleaned. This (she gestures to the envelope) is for your discretion” She states sternly. A bored glare on her face as you send her another confused stare. “We do not need to disclose to anyone that my failure of a son shot himself, that would not reflect well on our family nor our business. Take this and let me be rid of another headache Seokjin has caused me” She snaps dropping the assumed check in your lap as she stomps off.  
“Always leaving a mess wherever you go Seokjin, even in death you ruin everything” she spits toward his body being carted off by the coroner. The sudden need to say something to him over takes you as you dash toward his body, “c-can I-I say something to him?” I ask the coroner. “P-please?” I beg. They nod softly, you notice the confusion on their face.  
You let your hand caress his cheek softly “I-I’m sorry” your finger feeling the entrance wound, you suppress a cry. “I-I did-didn’t w-want you to die.” you say with finality.
*Present*
That day haunting your mind every day. You spend hours seated in the same spot staring at what used to be stained with Jin’s blood. So much so your negligent parents finally putting a stop to it on your 18th birthday, 4 months after the incident. Your mother discovering the cuts you began placing on your arms in the past few weeks. With her reputation at risk, she quickly called her therapists office, getting you set up with your first appointment within a couple of hours; due to her status.  
So here you sat, in the waiting room, staring at the door that read KIM NAMJOON. Your leg shaking rapidly, your lip cemented between your teeth. Your mother quickly elbowing your side “stop shaking so much, and take your lip from between your teeth he’s going to think you have no manners.” you nod quickly looking toward the ground.  
“Y/F/N” You hear as the door in front of you creaks open. You and your mother slowly stand up. “Ms. L/N I'm sorry but this is a private session and I do see in Y/N’s file you filled out she turned 18 last week so unfortunately you will have to stay out here” The therapist states, as your eyes slowly trail from his shoes to his face. Your heart racing as his beauty entrances you.  
You walk past him as he closes the door behind you. He walks toward the desk, taking a seat in the large chair behind it as he grabs a file opening it and types on his computer. You stand frozen by the door. “You can take a seat” he states curtly gesturing to the chairs placed front of the desk. You nod and slowly make your way into a seat. “So, Y/N I see you recently witnessed a friend’s suicide, my condolences” His eyes trail over you as you nod, he begins typing something into the computer as you answer.
“Do you know why you’re here today?” his voice is soft, almost concerned, again you nod. This time you lift your long sleeves showing him the intricate lines you’ve made in your flesh. He nods curtly “do you talk?” you shake your head no. “Well, that’s okay we can just sit here in silence if that’s what you would prefer.” He says with a soft smile. You give him a confused look “everyone processes grief differently, some become exceptionally outspoken, some go mute, some deny, some become obsessed with death” answering your unasked question.  
For the rest of your time, you sat and looked all over the office, eventually he provided you with a book “sorry it’s the only one I have but it's better than doing nothing especially when we have another hour” you smile softly and began reading. Every so often your mind would go from the pages in front of you to the male behind the desk. He sure was handsome, the intense focus he had as he worked on the computer in front of him; the plumpness of his lips. Your eyes trailing to his hands as he typed. His fingers long, and smooth.  
If this were a different time you would have flirted, played coy acted shy; like you did with Jin a voice whispered in your head. But times change people change, and you acting like that brought Jin to his knees. Soon your first session was over.  
Each week brought you another hour and a half with Namjoon by week 9 you’ve grown comfortable with your time with Namjoon. He’d always inquire about your progress and has even convinced you to actually answer your prescreening questionnaire through writing your answers to his questions to him. He never pushes you to talk. Recently you’ve also noticed how he’s been asking questions that show genuine interest in your wellbeing. You learn he is 27, graduated top of his class; and has traveled.  
You feel wrong as you have developed quite the crush on him, the many times you have wished he weren't your therapist, or you hadn’t sworn off dating; due to his suggestion to help you fully understand yourself as Namjoon had once said. You’ve spent your days taking part in a new job on his suggestion and you can feel your life genuinely changing for the better. You’re slowly working on moving out of your parents' house as it was “the location for your trauma” as Namjoon put it. You’ve found yourself opening up again, still never saying a word in your sessions but your silence never felt judged.  
You feel excited as you sit in the familiar seat. “So, Y/n how was this week?” Namjoon asked sliding a pen and paper over to you. You smile and slide it back to him “it went well I put a deposit on an apartment” you state. Namjoon’s eyes are wide as he stares at you mouth agape. “u-uh” he swallows quickly. “s-sorry y-you talked!” he exclaimed excitedly. “O-oh y-yeah I-I can talk” you state awkwardly staring down at your hands. “No, it's not that I mean- you never- well it's just I wasn’t expecting you to have such a beautiful voice” He mutters. “I'm sorry let me start over” He blushes embarrassed. “The apartment, when do you move in”  
“Next month! I have been taking extra shifts. You were right, honestly, my mother and the memory of Jin was draining me, every time I saw that spot when I walked in the house I would be sucked right back into that day” you say softly. “I think you know me better than I know myself” you didn’t know it but Namjoon's heart swelled in his chest. How he’s longed to hear your voice. Your words just igniting a fire within him, he’s always thought you were beautiful. The many nights he’s pleasured himself to the thought of you were countless. He started having you as his last appointments for the day due to the amount of sexual release he needed after having you in his office.  
He wanted to take you on the desk, have you pleading and begging him to cum. He knew it was wrong not only ethically, but morally as well, you were almost 10 years younger than him. He could lose his job, and honestly as he heard your soft melodic voice, he felt it would be worth it. To make you his, he’s dreamt of this moment where he could hear the song of your voice. He needs you beside him, these hour and a half sessions not long enough anymore. He needed you at all times, he needed to be the reason you smiled the way you do. The way your eyes shine as you begin explaining your love for your job, things your coworkers do. He’d imagine it would be in his apartment, you coming in after a shift to lay comfortably in his lap.  
You allowing him to press soft kisses into your hair as you ranted about your day. Namjoon knew he would love you from the moment he saw you and now that you’ve spoken, he knows you love him too.  
It's only a matter of time until you can be together. His heart swelling at the prospect as you make your way out as the session comes to an end. He couldn’t help himself as he walks you to the door, his hand slowly wrapping around your wrist, you slowly turn around toward him confusion in your eyes. He pulls your small frame into his lanky one and breathes in your scent hugging you firm but fondly. Your heart races as he holds you in place a blush creeping on your face as he breaks from the embrace. “I'll see you next week beautiful” the nickname sliding out before he could catch it. He notices the blush on your face as you nod quickly placing your bottom lip between your teeth,  
“Until next time” you stately shyly.  
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Merveille
Pairing: Past and kinda present Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Warning: None, just cuteness overload 😊
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Your eyesight was rapidly declining since you turned 87. Surprisingly you were okay with it, after all you lived a long and great life and saw so many beautiful things and places. Besides, it was part of getting older - while the medicine advanced exponentially it still couldn't prevent aging. The only thing that you mourned over were the picture albums you could no longer browse. They were the only material thing that you refused to part with, even though you lived a nomadic lifestyle most of your life.
Your great granddaughter Grace knew how deeply you mourned the pictures that were now only blurry smears on a faded white background. She was the one that inherited your knack for photography and in her free time she operated as a freelance photographer. Growing up and being educated in the modern world, Grace had more tools available to her and decided to surprise you for your 97th birthday. She kept borrowing albums from you and slowly digitalised all of them.
"Happy birthday, Grandma." Grace smiled as you opened your front door and were greeted by your beautiful and smiling great granddaughter. You invited her inside and offered her some coffee and biscuits. You chatted for a bit, before she clasped your hand.
"I have a special surprise for you. Get ready and meet me outside." She smiled and you quickly went to get changed, well as quickly as your old bones would let you.
When you locked your front door, Grace helped you to the car and drove you to the second location - the rented photography studio she worked in when she had some additional time. Loud clapping startled you as you opened the doors and were met with all your friends and family. They congratulated you and sat you down in the small space that was now filled with chairs. The giant white wall that usually had hundreds of pictures hanging from it was now completely bare and Grace sat down next to you.
"Happy 97th, Grandma." She kissed your cheek and pressed a button on the remote she held in her hand. In front of you, the white wall came alive with giant pictures of your life. Tears welled in your eyes and you clasped Graces' shoulder and leaned on her. She watched you with a giant smile on her face.
Your hand covered your mouth when you saw the first picture of you and Bucky - at the signing of The Hobbit in 1937, your first date. Your whole life was displayed on the big screen and after three years you could finally see it clearly again. The good, joyful though and sad moments of your life with Bucky, before he disappeared on that mission with Steve. How you packed up your apartment after the war and set out to explore the world with your kids. Your kids growing up with changing scenery in the background. Your van. The thousands of landscapes and sunsets / sunrises that you caught. The wedding photos of your kids. Your grandchildren. And great grandchildren. Steve returning in your life, the picture side by side with the one they took together before he became Captain America. And the day you found out Bucky was alive. In between the slideshow stopped and you had to tell the story behind the photo. It was so cathartic to replay them again.
As the last picture left the wall you turned to Grace, wiping the tears away, and hugged her as strongly as you could.
"Thank you, Grace. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Wait, there's one more part to this surprise." you heard from behind you and Steve came into view. He clasped your shoulder and bent down to hug you. The door opened carefully and Bucky walked in, looking uncomfortable and awkward.
"J-James?" You asked, not believing your prescription glasses.
"Hi, Doll." He smiled as he set his eyes on you. Even though 65+ years were added to your exterior, he could never forget the love of his life. He was trying to avoid seeing you since he resurfaced, too afraid of what you'd think of him, even though you begged Steve to convince him. And now there he was, standing in front of you, looking exactly like he did in 1944. You stood up, wobbly, Bucky immediately grabbing your hand to help you. All you could do was stare. You lifted you hand and cupped his face. It felt like time has stopped and you remember, vividly, how your life was like back then. How happy you were. And how heart-breaking it was to lose him.
"It's really you." You smiled and hugged him. You quickly ushered him forward and made him meet the family they created together. He was immediately swarmed by his kids and other relatives, a million questions flying his way and hand squeezes offered from every direction. You stood by the side, observing your husband socializing with his family - it was everything that you ever wished for.
"How are you feeling?" Grace came to stand by you. You leaned on her again, your eyes twinkling with happiness.
"Content. You gifted me my greatest wish, something I thought impossible. I love you, Gracie." Grace smiled at you and kissed your forehead.
Thank you for reading! 😊💙
The GIF is not mine, belongs to the amazing creator 🙏😊
Merveille means miracle in French and this whole thing that happed in the story, the reader would describe it as Merveille. The reader spent a lot of time in France and while she has been back in the States for years now, she still uses some French words to describe certain feelings she feels. The ones too special to use English for. 😊
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Hi!! Happy New Year!! So....I had a request that I’ve been dying to ask for like the longest time. But what if the reader is a doctor and married to Gibbs, and when a member of the team is hurt, she operates/heals them? And then she comes out and comforts Gibbs like all fluffy and sweet? He’s just so in love with her?? Aahhhh makes my brain mush thinking about it xxxxx
happy new year to you too!!! thanks a lot for your request! i hope it’s what you were expecting!! much love and stay safe ✨💖
NCIS, Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader.
Being you
“Male in his thirties, gun shot in the abdomen. He lost conscious on the ride here, lost a lot of blood,” the paramedics announced to you.
As you took a look to the man laying there, all bloody, you realized it was your husband’s team member Timothy McGee. Although he was unconscious, you put your hand to his cheek, you let him know, “Tim, it’s me Y/N. You’re gonna fine okay? I’m taking care of you. Hang in there,”
Before you knew it, you were in surgery, taking the bullet off his abdomen. Tim gave you a big scare on the operating table, when his heart started to race, your assistant was scared it may stop. “Tim! don’t do this,” you took a warning ton, “Your boss won’t forgive me and he sure as hell won’t forgive you,”
You knew you had to think about your patient only, that Tim only should be in your mind but you couldn’t help but to think about your husband. You don’t know what happened exactly, how the gunshot took place but Gibbs must be in the worst state of mind right now.
The surgery lasted longer than you thought since it cause damages into Tim’s stomach. His healing will take time, and he would be out of action for months. As you were putting the last stitch on his scar, your assistant congratuled you as she always does. “Team work,” you smiled at her. You took a look at Tim’s face. He was peaceful but very pale. Once again, you put your hand on his cheek, “You did good, Tim.”
You made sure he was taken safely into the resuscitation room, and walked to the waiting room. You thought your husband would be there, standing and waiting but instead, you saw Abby, Ducky and Jimmy. The lab tech jumped into your arms, not caring about the blood you had all over your blouse, “Is he okay? Is Tim okay?”
“He’s fine, Abbs. Still unconscious, but you’ll be able to see him soon,” you softly smiled at her.
“I knew he was in good hand,” you heard the medical examiner telling you.
You hugged Ducky and Jimmy, before asking. “Where’s Jethro?”
“Chasing the man who did this. Safe to say that one won’t stop by your operating table,” Jimmy awkwardly laughed. Tipical Jimmy Palmer. Of course the man who shot Tim was a dead man.
Your shift was over hours ago, but as long as Jethro was still out there looking for the shooter, you stayed around to check on Tim. You know your husband isn’t a texter, but you kept checking your phone to see if he has answer your text.
Tim’s safe. How are you? And the team? You guys stay safe, okay? Want you to be there when I get home. I love you, J.
The morning rose. Tim was still out. Abby, Ducky and Jimmy made rounds to stay with him. “Doc! Already here or never left?” Your assistant greeted you in the locker room, as her new shift was about to start.
“I stayed with my husband’s team,” you tiredly smiled at her.
“Is his coworker still okay? No complications?”
“All is good for now,”
“You should go home. We got this. We’ll take a good care of him,”
“You’re sweet but I’ll go home when J has. It’s my duty to stay here,”
“Do you have a male version of yourself? Wouldn’t mind a partner like you,”
You chuckled at her words and thanked her for always being this awesome. You heard a certain brouhaha coming from the hallway, and as you rushed there, you realized it was coming from Tim’s room. Abby looked all freaked out at you, “He—he started to convulsed. Do something, Y/N, please,” she begged.
Thank god it wasn’t something too serious. A few minutes later, Tim’s vitals came back to normal and he started to gain conscious. “Morning, Warrior,” you smiled at him.
He was out of it, his body was in total pain but he giggled at your words. “T—Thank you doc Gibbs,” he managed to say.
“Go back to sleep before Abby gives you a lecture,”
He smiled and dozed off.
It’s late in the afternoon that you heard from your husband. Or at least, that Ducky told you he was home. You checked on last time on Tim, gave instructions, told everyone to call if needed and you went home to your husband.
The house was complete dark and you didn’t hear a single sound. Jethro was probably exhausted, so you didn’t turn on the lights, only using your phone’s flash. You found him laying on the couch, face buried in a pillow. You sat next to him, softly stroked his hair and when he moved his head to the side, you kissed his temple. “Hi my love,” you whispered. “How are you?”
He turned around and opened his arms for you to come laying on his chest. “Better now,” he said. You could hear his voice was about to crack. You were exhausted from the last 40 hours - your normal shift, plus Tim’s surgery and staying until now. But your husband’s mental health was all that mattered at this moment.
You stayed in his arms for a moment, enjoying the small circles his hand was doing in your back. Eventually you sat up and took him with you. “Hungry?” He shook his head no. “Wanna go into bed?” He did the same. “I got an idea then,” you kissed his forehead, “Stay here until I call you,” Jethro watched you going upstairs and wondered how he got this lucky.
You called him ten minutes later. Unexpectedly to him, you had prepared a bath. Warm, bubbly with candles. Without a word, you helped him undressed and told him to get into the bathtub. He did as told. “Come with me,” he whispered.
“In a minute,”
But first, you offered to massage his scalp and temples. Leaning into every touch, Jethro felt all the tensions for the past day fading away. Maybe all the tensions he ever had even. He doesn’t understand how he got you to fall in love with him. How could a woman like you marry him? He could never understand.
Still leaning into your touch, he repeated, “Come with me, Y/N,” he sounded so needy, you couldn’t refuse this time. You felt his blue eyes all on you as you undressed and joined him in the bathtub. He laid down and invited you to come rest on his chest, but you refused and made him spin around in the bathtub. He heard him giggle as his legs were blocked. You don’t get to hear his laugh often, and it made you fall in love with him a little more. Finally, he managed to spin and laid down on your chest. “What did I do?” You heard him say, as you were softly caressing his arms and chest, playing with his chest hair from time to time.
“What?” You asked.
“What did I do so you fell in love with me? And—married me?” He asked. It sounded like a genuine question.
“It would take me a book to answer this and you don’t read books,”
Jethro gets this. He got a commun point between you too; avoiding serious question about your feelings. So he let it slide. You and him stayed silent until the water got cold. You helped him wash, and so he did for you. Even if he told again he wasn’t hungry, you prepared two bowls of cereals and joined him on the couch, under blankets.
Still, he doesn’t understand. How in the world would a woman want to eat cereals in front of a tv that only has one channel. In black and white. But here you are, drinking your milk and watching the western movie as if it was the blockbuster of the year.
You were watching the tv, and Jethro was watching you when your phone buzzed. It was your coworker.
Could’ve warn me your friend was such a drama queen. He called, claiming he was dying because his stomach was making weird things. He was hungry.
You laughed at the text and read it to Jethro. “I’ll give him hard times if he gives some to your friends,” he chuckled, getting you closer to him and kissing your temple.
“Why didn’t you come see him?” You asked.
“Chased the man who did it,” he paused, “And I knew he was safe with you,”
Perhaps he did, but you could still on his face how worried he has been since yesterday. “Your cereals look like porridge,” you smiled.
“Sorry. Told you I wasn’t hungry,” Jethro said. He put his bowl on the coffee table and you felt his body curling on your side. You finished your milk, put the bowl away and opened your arms so his head could rest on your chest.
“Thank you,” you heard him whisper.
“What for?”
“Being you,”
You didn’t see the tear escaping your husband’s eye.
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hit-me-with-a-ladle · 3 years
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Ch.11 Creepypasta x Fem! Reader
Four days had passed since their first brawl. Toby had observed her staggering improvement and powerful determination to learn. He hadn't seen that kind of behaviour in a long time. As nightfall came they began to clear up and head back. Both tired from the long day of training, Toby walking in front of her as they went on their way. The walk was peaceful, the night sky illuminating from the dense array of trees as the crickets chirped their lullaby. The sky was littered with beautiful stars and the girl couldn't pry her eyes away from them, looking up in amazement like a child on Christmas day. Toby on the other hand wasn't paying any attention to anything around him, with his hands in his pockets and head down, eyes focused on the patchy road ahead.
The walk to the cabin was beginning to feel longer than usual, the air now becoming tense from all the silence, but the girl still didn't bother to speak up as she knew it was futile. Toby was a man of few words, always keeping to himself, there would be days where they would only say two words to each other. This was a drastic change from what she was usually used to with the others, especially Ben. " So." Her thoughts were cut off as she looked at Toby, who had now slowed down and was walking in since with her. " Um yeah." She sighed out, looking ahead both hands in her large pockets. " Ab-about the necklace." He continued still trying to put his thoughts into words. " What about it." Her eyes widened a little, not expecting him to bring that up as she looked at him pulling it out from underneath her jumpsuit and holding the tiny bottle between her rough fingers. " D-di he tells you wh-why he gave y-you it?" He asked in his usual bored tone. " Yeah, he did. It's for safety and protection. He gave it to me almost two weeks ago and I usually wear it most of the day." She answered honestly softly smiling as she looked at the pretty plant inside of it. It calmed her looking at it. " Interesting." He said to himself not wanting her to hear him but she still managed to.
Her eyebrow raised, why was he so interested in the necklace all of the sudden. " So...do you and Ben get along or...?" She said trying to further the conversation while they walked to the cabin. Toby was hesitant with answering the question, as he took a moment to think of the right response to such a subject. " Yes a-and no. But more n-no. I te-nd to avoid that blab-blabbering idiot but h-he has his moment at ti-times. Very few a-a-and in between but st-still there non the l-less," He answered simply glancing at her direction as he did.
The girl was intrigued by his answer, she assumed he despised him as they were the polar opposite. The assumption wasn't unprompted either, as Toby didn't seem to like most people. " But then ag-again, he tries t-to hard. He acts too m-uch like a child. It's frust-rating." He finally finished his thought, looking back at the road and softly closing his eyes as he walked, admiring the cool night air. He hadn't felt this clam in a while, he enjoyed the feeling. So much so as a small smile crept up his lips. It wasn't noticed by the girl standing next to him but he didn't mind.
In the distance, they could make out the cabin, relief washing over both their bodies like a title wave. " Almost there, finally I can rest." The girl announced dramatically, sighing. It made Toby eye her watching her hunched form drag her feet while walking. Almost close to collapsing. He grunted, at this rate they'd reach it till next morning, clearing his throat he hunched down sweeping her off her feet. She was startled by the sudden action as her eyes widened in surprise, now settled in his arms bridal style. " WHAT! What the hell are you doing? Put me down." She shrieked flailing her arms. But it was to no use as she was too tired to do any harm. Toby grunted as she thrashed, waiting for her to stop and when she did, he smiled softly picking up his pace.
The girl was surprised at how he was able to hold her weight, as he looked quite thin, but as her back pressed against his arms she could feel the defined muscle. Toby didn't say anything, he seemed like the extra weight didn't even affect him. She could hear his heartbeat, it was slow and quiet. The soothing rhythm made her relax even further melting into his arms. They finally reached the cabin, but Toby didn't bother to put her down, no he managed to open the door with her in his hands and she barely noticed. Walking inside, warm air hit his face making him sight. Going to the living room he carefully set her down on the couch and stepped away.
The girl sat upright, her whole body resting as she softly smiled. It had been a while since she could get some rest. Toby had walked to the kitchen slowly lowering his mask and pouring himself some water, looking into the living room while he drank it. He could see the back of the girls head. " Did you also have to train as I do?" The girl's voice broke his peaceful trance. He cleared his throat pondering on his answer as he usually did. " Not r-really." He simply said rinsing the cup and putting it back into the self. " What do you mean by that?" She perfused, wanting to know him better. " Well," He sighed putting his mask back to place and walking towards her, sitting down on the armchair next to the couch. " You have y-y-your duties so you ne-need a different type of trai-ning and mentors. M-my mentor was much wo-worse than we a-a-are."
The girl let out a snort when hearing the last part, looking at him with a curious look. " Really, how so?" " He i-i-is a being co-comprised of pure e-evil so you could imagine it your-yourself." " Pure evil? Is this the Operator man everyone is talking about?" " Bingo." Shed started to get frustrated by how short his answer always was, shed has to ask multiple different questions to know the smallest thing. " What's up with this Operator fella? If he's so powerful why does he need a human guarding his forest?" " Easy. A human is a b-b-basic, morally grey, being. F-for example, you we-were chosen be-because you weren't all t-that good bu-but not all that bad, in the mi-ddle aka The middle-man. So it d-doesn't matter how po-powerful h-he is if there's no real ba-lance in the fo-forest and your j-j-job is to hold that balance." He finished taking a big sigh and slouching on the couch, making it clear that he didn't feel like talking anymore. Soon he would fall asleep.
The girl watched him thoughtfully, eventually getting up. They had finished a little earlier than usual, at this time she would be heading back to eat and then go to bed but something was telling her to look around the cabin, something she wasn't able to do. There were no bookshelves. Its walls were all very sterile and plain. Same for the kitchen. But something in her gut was telling her to go up the stairs, slowly approaching the railing she sighed, with every careful step she would look behind her to make sure Toby was asleep. Reaching the final step she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, the narrow hallway felt longer than before, and she felt strange not immediately heading to the left.
Turning her body to the other side of the dimly lit hallway at the end was a door, she hadn't noticed it before. ' Was that there?' She asked herself approaching it and reaching for the gold knob. The door was painted in a thick layer of black paint, scratches and carving covering its whole surface, one of the larger carvings was crossed out circle. A chill when up to her spine when she noticed it quickly pulled back her hand. Taking in another harsh breath and mustering up the courage she turned the knob, but it didn't budge. She pressed her whole body on the door and began to push but it still wouldn't work, finally, she got frustrated and began to hit and thrash the door handle. But it still didn't move, so she had to reluctantly give up.
There was something important they were trying to hide and she made it a point to find out what it was.
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gumnut-logic · 3 years
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What do you think the greatest brotrayal of all time would be?
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What?
Somewhat of a challenge, not sure I pulled it off, but I hope you enjoy it anyway :D
Thanks to @janetm74 @scribbles97 @vegetacide and @tsarinatorment for various read throughs and cheerleading :D
Sorry, Scott :D
-o-o-o-
Scott glared at his brothers.
Virgil, John and Gordon stood in a line on the comms room hardwood floor all looking straight ahead as if they were in a military inspection. Which was particularly odd since only one of them had ever been in said military.
Hell, even his grandmother was ramrod straight beside them.
Scott was absolutely beside himself. Still dressed in his uniform, complete with its coating of mud, he had no doubt that his appearance was anything but reassuring to the brothers standing in front of him.
Not that he cared. This was beyond it all.
This was so ludicrous that it was hard to even suspect Gordon as the culprit.
Though he was still the most likely despite his arm being in a sling.
Scott eyed his fish brother. He had a scratch above one eyebrow that hadn’t been there when Scott left this morning.
But then a lot was different on Tracy Island since he left this morning.
The most obvious difference was the Thunderbird stuck at an angle where the pool was supposed to be.
His ‘bird was shining in the late afternoon light, her silver hull gleaming as she sat at a sixty-degree angle just beyond the balcony, her wings gouged into the concrete of the patio.
Virgil shifted where he stood on his crutches and Scott felt the briefest flash of guilt at making him stand there. His engineer brother had been grounded for the last week with a broken ankle, along with Gordon and his broken arm. Which is why Scott had been in Two today with the currently guilt free Alan.
His youngest brother stood off to one side, apparently caught between shock and relief that he wasn’t to blame.
“I’m waiting for an explanation.” For several things.
The room still reeked of burnt furnishings. Whatever had happened in the kitchen had left it black and under a haze of smoke that had infiltrated the villa.
As if to comment, John sneezed suddenly. His space brother sniffed and screwed up his face before he realised Scott was eyeing him. He, too, was standing on crutches, something he wasn’t doing this morning.
And still no-one said anything.
Not even Grandma, and honestly that was a kicker.
“Gordon-“
“What are you looking at me for?”
Scott shot him a flat stare. “History.”
“Hey, the last time I borrowed One, I brought her back in one piece.”
“Complete with Eau de Polecat!”
“That does not automatically put me at fault. Besides this was an emergency.”
Scott blinked. A little progress. “And?”
But Gordon clammed up and went back to staring at the portraits on the far side of the room, every bit the WASP Lieutenant Tracy he actually was.
Scott turned to John, his ever-faithful source of relevant information.
“J-“
“I’m sitting down.” John turned and crutched his way past Scott and into the sunken lounge without another word.
Scott stared after him.
“Honey, are you feeling okay?” His grandmother followed his space brother and began fussing over him and his leg, both completely ignoring Scott.
What the-? “How. Did. This. Happen?!” Okay, so he might be yelling just a little, but the cause was sufficient. He turned to his trusted first. His best friend. His brother. His Virgil.
Said brother was looking rather pale. “Virgil?”
Sad, dark eyes looked up at him. “I wanted to make you popcorn.”
-o-o-o-
Virgil was frustrated. Virgil was always frustrated when he was grounded and today sported no reason to change that attitude.
Worse, he had had to watch Scott take his ‘bird out to a mudslide. His big brother was not a fan of flying Two, but since Virgil had a busted ankle and Gordon an equally busted arm, that was the deal today.
To top it all off, mudslides sucked big time and Scott and Alan would likely come home exhausted, especially since two of their brothers were currently unavailable to assist.
So, to help just that little bit he had spent the last couple of hours hobbling around the kitchen slapping together something that could be considered a relaxing meal for that evening, vetoing any chance of Grandma getting into the kitchen and destroying stomach linings.
It helped that Grandma was in Wellington with Kayo.
To top it off, Virgil had put together an apple pie, Scott’s favourite. He had also made sure there was a bucket of triple chocolate ice cream in the freezer for Alan – one that he had stashed away for emergencies just like this.
The last thing on his list was to make some candy popcorn for the squirt and put some kernels aside ready for popping later so they would be nice and warm for the movie.
He was in the process of heating the oil when Gordon burst into the room as if out of nowhere.
Virgil to dropped a spoon.
Damn sandshoes were silent.
“Hubert’s dying!”
“What?” His back creaked as he picked up the piece of cutlery.
“Hubert, the albatross that collided with the window and broke his wing.”
“What albatross?” The oil began to smoke a little so he turned the heat off. His Gordon radar was at full alert – this would likely take a while.
“Yesterday? Upstairs? How did you not hear that?” A blink. “Okay, it was five am. You don’t exist before ten, I’m sorry.” The sarcasm was dripping and a little caustic. “Regardless, Hubert has gone limp and I think he’s dying, Virg. Help me please.” The accompanying clasped hands reminiscent of either prayers or vigorous begging, complete with a sling that wasn’t doing what it was supposed to, were a little over the top.
“Okay. Fine. Show me the patient.” He reached over and nudged the broken arm back into its sling while Gordon glared him.
“Hurry up.”
Virgil grabbed his crutches and followed Gordon to the stairs before darting sideways and thumbing the elevator doors open.
“Okay, fine, hop-a-long.” Gordon jumped down the last few steps and hurried into the elevator with Virgil.
He bounced on his heels the entire way to the infirmary level.
Virgil watched his agitation and realised that whatever was wrong with this bird, Gordon had invested himself in it, much like every other injured animal he had dragged home since he had learnt to walk.
Gordon ushered Virgil into the infirmary and to his horror,  he found the limp sea bird strapped secure in one of the beds. “Gordon, have you heard of hygiene?”
“It’s fine. The sheets are clean. He’s safe.”
Virgil rolled his eyes.
But Gordon’s whine drew him into examining the bird, which, considering it was avian, did not comply with the human knowledge Virgil possessed.
“I don’t really know, Gords.” Virgil stabbed at the infirmary’s computer interface, interrogating the net for baseline vitals for an albatross. Hell, he didn’t even know which species.
“It’s a Gibson’s Albatross.” Gordon was stroking the unconscious bird gently with his fingers.
This was not the first time, nor was it likely to be the last time Virgil found himself in this situation, though the species did vary. As always, his answer was. “I’m sorry, Gordon. You need a qualified vet.”
“But I set his wing. He should be getting better.” Gordon’s age regressed around animals and tended to break Virgil’s heart in the process.
“I’m sorry, Gordon.”
“For goodness sake, we’re International Rescue!” The plea in his brother’s eyes stabbed right where it hurt.
But then those eyes widened and a light bulb went off above Gordon’s head.
Or it could have been a pre-emptive precursor for the migraine Virgil suddenly knew he was going to end up with.
“No, Gordon.”
“But he’s dying!” Gordon grabbed Virgil by the arm. “It’s our job to save lives.”
“How exactly are we going to get him to the mainland? Neither of us can fly.” Virgil wasn’t going to admit it, but the bird didn’t look like it was going to last long enough for another family member to make it home. “I’m sorry, Gordon.” He was already calculating how to cheer up his little brother.
“No!”
He sighed. It wasn’t as if he wanted the bird to die. Hell, if he was hail and healthy, he would have already put it on Tracy Two and be halfway to Auckland by now. But there was no way he was risking himself or his brother in a plane with a broken limb. Maybe Kayo might get back in time?
But then the inevitable happened. He should have seen it coming.
“We can take Thunderbird One!”
Virgil blinked. “What? No!” God, no, Scott would kill him.
“This is a life, Virgil! What makes a bird’s any less important than a human’s? It’s his life, our house has endangered it, and now we aren’t doing anything to help save it? How is that fair?” Gordon’s fists were now clenched at his sides, the sling yet again ignored. Fiery carnelian glared at Virgil. “I can’t do it with my arm, but Thunderbird One doesn’t require feet to operate.” A flicker of his eyelids. “This is on you.”
Virgil stared at his little brother.
A glance at the limp bird on the bed.
Back to Gordon, ever so fiery and passionate.
Virgil reached down, unfolded Gordon’s fist and pulled the sling back into place.
Ten minutes later he found himself doing what he did every time this kind of situation happened.
Thunderbird One launched with Virgil at the helm and Gordon clutching a desperately ill albatross in the back seat.
-o-o-o-
Scott stared at his second eldest brother, the man with whom he trusted so much. Virgil had literally held Scott’s life in his hands on several occasions.
“You borrowed One to take an injured bird to the vet.”
Virgil shifted where he stood. “It was to save a life.”
Scott turned to the lounge and glared at John. “And you let him fly with a broken ankle?”
John returned the glare with equal strength. “Are you kidding me? This is Virgil we’re talking about. I thought One was safer in his hands than yours.”
“What?!”
“It’s not like he’s going to do anything stupid with your ‘bird, is he?”
There were no words, so Scott just gestured in the direction of the pool.
With both hands.
“Yeah, well, probabilities can’t predict everything.”
The flippant, non-answer went straight to Scott’s head and rattled around in there for a moment or two before he chose to file it for later or risk implosion. John was rubbing at his foot and Scott latched onto it to save his sanity. “How did you hurt yourself?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, the kitchen caught fire. Kayo had already been called out again and I was worried about Grandma.”
“And?”
“I tripped.”
“Over what?”
“My own feet! It’s not every day you see Thunderbird One get stuck in the pool!” John glared at Scott. “Cahelium on concrete is very loud.”
Scott stared at him, not willing to face the image those words inflicted on him.
“Why was the kitchen on fire?”
But then something Virgil had said popped into his mind. He couldn’t help it, he rubbed his face with his hand. “Grandma, why didn’t you wait for Virgil to get home?”
“He left the popcorn on the counter, dear, I was trying to help.” Grandma wasn’t looking at him. John’s leg appeared to need a good rub right at this very moment.
John was wincing.
But with that explained, Scott had no choice but to turn back to Virgil, who was still standing clinging to his crutches.
Why hadn’t he sat down? He was ever so very sorry looking and Scott’s heart melted at the edges.
“Virgil, what happened?”
Brown eyes slowly peered up at him.
God, did he really have to deploy that little brother expression. Thunderbird One was down for the count, stuck in the damned pool and the brother responsible wasn’t even letting him stay angry. Goddamnit! How does a thirty-year-old man regress to six-year-old like that? Those eyes were the same eyes Virgil deployed that time he crashed Scott’s bicycle.
As if in answer, something whacked Scott’s thigh.
Ow! “What the hell?”
Looking down he found an extremely large seagull with a bandaged wing glaring up at him. Their eyes met and it squawked.
Very loudly.
“Hubert! What are you doing down here?” And suddenly, there was a race on around the comms room, Gordon chasing the waddling bird as it methodically thumped everyone with its wings, took out a pot plant and to Scott’s horror, one of Dad’s souvenirs. Both toppled with a crash as Gordon continued to chase Hubert around the room.
Alan joined him a moment later.
Part of Scott wanted to yell the building down, but most of him just wanted to know how the hell his ‘bird had ended up stuck halfway into her launch bay.
So, he turned back to Virgil and asked again, perhaps a little louder over the ruckus as the stupid bird scrambled over John in its eagerness to torture everyone.
He approached his brother carefully and placed a hand on each arm. “Virg, What happened?”
“It was an accident. I’m sorry, Scott.”
“That much is obvious. What malfunctioned?”
Brown eyes were suddenly not looking at him.
“Virgil?”
His brother straightened a little. “You have too many damned levers.”
“What?”
He seemed to be saying that a lot today.
“I pushed the wrong lever, okay? It’s on the left on Two and One has it on the right and I yanked on it to slow and the wings deployed. Wrong lever, sorry, okay?”
Scott stared at Virgil, his jaw slowly dropping as his hands lost their grip on his brother and just hovered mid-air beside him. “You used the wrong lever?”
“Yeah, sorry, my bad.” Virgil was looking at his feet. “Can I sit down now?”
Scott’s mouth was still open and he had to force himself to close it. “Sure.” So his voice was a little bit higher than normal…
Virgil didn’t hesitate, clutching his crutches and hurriedly tapping his way over to the lounge.
Behind Scott there was a sudden crash and the sound of breaking glass as both Alan and a bird squawked at the same time.
Scott didn’t turn to look. He just stood staring at his ‘bird, still gleaming in the late afternoon sun, still sticking out of the pool.
His jaw may have dropped just a little again.
But nothing more was said.
-o-o-o-
FIN.
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