#(once i get comms back its oVER) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherry-leclerc · 6 months ago

Text

star-crossed ☆ mv1

genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut

word count: 9.1k

Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, fingering

inspired by this !

cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)

The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick.

White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth.

Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”

“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head.

The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”

“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend.

“Any more guesses?”

“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”

The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”

“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples.

“September 4, 2022.”

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“You said it would be warm!”

Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—

“Should I just come back later or…”

Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away.

And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”

Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”

It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry.

“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”

His smile slips away. “Sorry?”

“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.

But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”

When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you.

Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”

“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”

You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”

The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”

“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”

“She really said that?”

Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”

“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty.

Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain.

“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”

Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”

Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”

“Oh! Hi!”

His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”

“New?”

Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”

“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”

You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”

A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”

The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”

“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.”

“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.

You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”

His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”

A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”

Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”

“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”

“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”

Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“I’m not a quitter.”

“There we go!”

“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”

And he does.

It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup.

“You look—”

“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”

“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”

Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?”

Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”

And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”

With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”

“Yeah—and what’s another?”

His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”

“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”

His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”

Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”

The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”

“Ah—is my ban lifted?”

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”

Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“Nepo-Baby?”

You hum. “They all are.”

Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”

You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”

Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest.

“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”

“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”

Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same.

“Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been hiding from you.”

“Seems like. Don’t do that.”

“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Probably.”

You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”

“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.

But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down.

“R-right—her.”

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”

“Hey,” you warn.

“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”

“Great…”

“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”

“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”

“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”

“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”

“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”

“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”

He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.”

“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”

Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”

“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites.

Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches.

Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”

And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose.

“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”

Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)

“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair.

With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”

“No.”

“Well, two—”

Green paints her face. “No.”

“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”

“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”

“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”

You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”

Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Yes—”

“For a million different reasons—”

“I-I’m aware,” you stutter.

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers.

And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago.

Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”

“Done.”

For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled.

“Are those your panties?”

“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—”

“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring.

She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”

Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”

A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.”

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him.

“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm.

“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”

Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”

“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?”

Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”

You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince.

Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.

Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”

“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—

“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”

Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”

“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful.

“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.

The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter.

“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”

“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her.

“Crap—you smell like shit.”

The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”

A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes.

“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”

“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”

Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”

The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”

A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”

And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…

He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”

The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”

In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”

Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”

And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.”

“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder.

“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”

“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker.

The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”

Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.

“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“You.”

“Me?”

You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”

Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”

An eye roll. “Douche.”

He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt.

“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”

“Oh no. How many did you drink?”

Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”

The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”

“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”

His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”

“Not really.”

“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”

You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”

You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”

Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment.

He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”

“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”

“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.”

“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”

He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves.

“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”

“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”

He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too.

Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

He hums. “What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”

“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.

Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look.

“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."

“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively.

Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”

You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”

As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.

Or so you thought.

“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”

“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment.

The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.

“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”

“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”

The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”

Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”

“I don’t.”

“Well too bad, I’m going to.”

“Yeah. You already said that.”

Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance.

“Hey!”

He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”

A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”

He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”

His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”

You groan. “Max.”

He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”

“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.

Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”

You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.”

Green eyes glare down, playfully.

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”

As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”

The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”

“Nepo-Baby?”

Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”

“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”

A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”

The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—

“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”

Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”

Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”

“Hm. No. More like green apple.”

She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”

“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles.

She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”

“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”

Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all.

She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”

Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces.

“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”

Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”

A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”

Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”

The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”

“Well—”

“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”

“So, so. Yourself?”

“Good. Refreshed.”

“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”

The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”

His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”

Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”

The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”

“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”

A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”

Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”

The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.

“See you on track.”

Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”

Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”

“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”

“I never meant any harm—”

“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”

Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”

And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”

You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”

“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”

He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”

You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”

“That you love him.”

“I do love him—”

He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”

“You’re sick."

“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.”

You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”

Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?”

“Maybe, but who cares?”

And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more.

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”

“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”

The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he confirms.

“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily.

“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”

Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.”

“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh.

“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”

“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”

And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”

You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside.

“Beer’s ass, by the way.”

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

“What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”

You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”

He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”

A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”

He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”

Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”

“I am not a cheater.”

You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”

He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”

You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”

Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”

Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”

“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”

“Okay, stop—”

“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”

“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”

He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”

“Max…”

He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time.

“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”

And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out.

“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”

“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”

Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”

The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”

Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”

“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”

“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”

“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”

“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pierre hums. “Mate?”

Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.

Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.

Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.

But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.

“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”

“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”

“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”

“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”

So, with neat brows drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder.

“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.”

“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth.

Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back.

“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”

“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”

“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”

It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.”

So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along.

He gave his speech last.

He was the footnote.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

1K notes · View notes

littleredwolf · 8 months ago

Text

Sinful Sighs

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/N are like a couple of horny teenagers after completing a mission where feelings were revealed - continuation of ‘Hungry Eyes’.

Warnings: 18+ content - MINORS DNI- blowjob, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, sex with protection, cursing - just pure smut for the sake of it.

Words: 1,303

A/N: Okay so part 2 came along sooner than expected - I am a woman with needs and apparently writing saucy fanfiction is how I fulfil them these days!

READ PART ONE [HERE]

The Quinjet had barely touched the tarmac before you and Bucky were barreling down its ramp and making your way into the compound, hands entwined as you marched towards the living quarters.

“For the love of God, turn off your comms before you get to your room!” Sam called after you, prompting you to rip out your earpieces and leave them on a side table as you passed through the lounge.

You couldn’t unlock your door quick enough, and you squealed excitedly when Bucky playfully slapped your ass and shoved you through it once you’d finally got it open.

His mouth was on yours in seconds, hands on your waist as he guided you backwards. You dropped onto the edge of the bed when you felt the mattress pressing against the back of your knees, looking up at the super soldier through lust-filled eyes as you began to undo his belt. He caressed your cheek with his flesh hand, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips as he watched you, groaning when you opened your mouth and began to suck on it - a taster of what was to come. His vibranium hand came up to clasp your hair, making you gasp in delight as he gently pulled on it to make you look up at him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, his confession sending a bolt of electricity straight to your core.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” you purred as you finished unbuttoning his pants and began to remove them along with his underwear, licking your lips as your eyes settled on his throbbing erection.

“And why’s that, doll?” He asked, indulging his curiosity.

“So that I could have done this a long time ago,” you said, wrapping your hand around his cock and taking his full length into your mouth.

Bucky inhaled sharply and tightened his grip on your hair, eliciting a moan from you that vibrated around his cock and caused him to buck his hips towards you. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, but you held steady and continued to work him into a frenzy, licking and sucking and drawing the most delicious sounds from him.

He reluctantly pulled you away after a few minutes, and you whined at the loss of contact.

“Lay back,” he ordered, taking off his shirt and watching you like a predator stalking its prey as you followed his instructions. He dropped to his knees once you were in position, and you sucked in a breath as he began a trail of kisses that started from the inside of your ankle and led up to your inner thigh.

Lifting the skirt of your dress, he took a moment to admire your underwear before hooking his fingers in the waistband and sliding them down, tossing them aside and continuing his path of kisses.

You whimpered as he reached your slick folds, and you felt him smile wickedly against them before sucking your clit into his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair, nails raking along his scalp as you rolled your hips to meet him, soft moans passing your lips that spurred him on.

Gripping your hip and holding you in place with his vibranium hand, Bucky added his flesh hand to the assault on your pussy, sliding a finger inside while his thumb circled your clit alongside his tongue.

“Fuck,” you gasped as his finger curled up and rubbed against your sweet spot, speeding up your impending orgasm.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky groaned, his breath ghosting over your pussy and adding to the sweet sensations. “Come for me.”

It was all the encouragement you needed and within seconds your pussy was squeezing around his fingers, back arching as your moans filled the room.

“Good girl,” Bucky praised once you were finished, removing himself from between your legs and licking your juices from his fingers as he climbed onto the bed. “Sweet as a peach.”

The lewd act made you bite your lip, and at Bucky’s command you moved up the bed to lay back against the pillows, spreading your legs and allowing him to position himself between them. He kissed you deeply, needily, and you eagerly parted your lips for him when he teased them with that skillful tongue of his, drawing more moans from you as he trailed more sloppy kisses along your jawline and neck. Your hands returned to his hair as you thrust your hips up to meet his cock, aching to have him inside you.

“Please, Buck. I need you,” you whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. A look of uncertainty crossed his face as he hesitated a moment, and you didn’t need the ability to read minds to know what he was thinking.

Reaching over to your nightstand, you opened the drawer and pulled out a condom, smiling reassuringly up at him as you ripped it open and reached down to roll it over his cock. He groaned at your touch, and when you were done he pressed his forehead against yours.

“If you change your mind about this, let me know and I’ll stop,” he whispered, and you cupped his face to make him look at you.

“Not gonna happen,” you replied.

It was all the reassurance he needed, and with a searing kiss he lined himself up at your entrance and slid into you. You gasped as he slowly pushed himself all the way in, filling you completely, and he paused only a moment for you to get accustomed to the feeling before pulling away and repeating the motion.

Your soft moans turned to heavy pants as Bucky began to move faster, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer with each thrust while his mouth set your skin ablaze with every kiss to your neck, face and chest.

You squeaked in surprise when he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could go deeper, and waves of ecstasy rolled over you as he brought you to the brink over and over again, the room filling with your exclamations of pleasure and encouragement for him to keep going.

You lost count of how many times you came while Bucky fucked you, your pussy squeezing his cock and drawing the most explicit sounds from him. It didn’t take long for him to reach his own release, and his cries of pleasure joined yours as you both climaxed for the last time.

You whined at the loss of contact when he pulled out to dispose of the condom, but he was back by your side in a matter of seconds, pulling you into his tight embrace and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he planted soft kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done that sooner,” he murmured, his breath against your ear giving you goosebumps. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Your cheeks reddened and you laid your head on his chest to hide the fact.

“Says you,” you scoffed, and now it was his turn to blush. “At least now we know, we can make up for lost time,” you mused, and he hummed in agreement, the rumbling of his chest vibrating against your ear.

“Well, the sooner we get started, the better,” he stated, and you lifted your head to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Really!? Already!?”

“Perks of being a super soldier, doll,” he smirked, and you giggled as he nudged himself into you to show his returning hard on.

“FRIDAY - add condoms to the shopping list,” you announced to the AI as you reached over and pulled another from the nightstand. You had a full box in there, but something told you they wouldn’t last long.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #the winter soldier x fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #minors dni

2K notes · View notes

muddyorbsblr · 11 months ago

Text

onyx pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You're stuck in the Avengers Compound because of an injury from your last mission, and you come across an adorable and affectionate little kitten.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: language (no i'm not sorry, Rogers); talks of explosions and injuries sustained from explosion [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: one-sided crushing (but is it really…?)

An eerie silence served as your only company in the Avengers Compound the last few days, some of your teammates off to finish the HYDRA mission that left you injured while the others took time off to visit their families over the holidays. With the promise to keep their comms on in case they would be needed until the New Year.

Now all that remained in the Compound with you were a few junior agents that drew the ends of the short stick, Val, and Loki.

Sadly your teammate, friend, and occasional drinking buddy Val was out blissfully spreading holiday cheer throughout New York with her girlfriend.

And Loki? Well, the God of Mischief wasn't exactly on chummy terms with you. Didn't even so much as give you a passing glance when you were at mission briefings.

Which was a damn shame because what you would give just to get lost in those stormy ocean eyes.

You made your way to the pantry in the common room to replenish your stash of snacks, towing along a little wagon to help you on the way back. Every step had you feeling every square inch of bruising on the left side of your body that you got from being unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius of an explosion at the HYDRA base you were trying to infiltrate with Shaun just a few days ago.

Your phone buzzed with a new message. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself, seeing Xu's name on your screen as soon as you pulled up next to the elaborate barista setup, putting a few Lindor truffles in a small bag for your wagon. "Hey FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Agent Y/L/N?" the AI answered immediately.

"Could you make me a white chocolate mocha with peppermint while I raid the latest Costco delivery for uhh…supplies. Yeah, I'll go with that."

"Right away, Agent Y/L/N." The sound of the barista setup whirring to life filled the kitchen area as you checked on Shaun's message.

Thor just mentioned that he'll ask his brother to take a look at your injuries. Maybe get him to kiss it all better. He finished his text with a smirking emoji, along with some hand gestures that painted a less than family friendly picture, making you roll your eyes at the screen.

You recorded a voice memo for him. "You know that he'd need to actually be willing to look at me so that he could see the damage from the blast, right? And last I checked I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm Medusa reincarnated and I'll turn his Asgardian ass to stone."

You went on to the ridiculously stocked pantry to rummage the delivery that came just a few hours ago, trying to find a bag of Jalapeño Cheetos somewhere in the mix, when you heard a tiny meow from somewhere behind you. You looked to the ground to find a black and white munchkin cat looking up at you with wide blue eyes.

"Hi there, baby…" you cooed, surprised the adorable little creature hadn't hissed or scratched at you yet. Cats normally didn't take to you, which was a shame because you often found yourself fighting the urge to pick one up or stroke its head whenever you crossed paths with one during your errand runs. "How'd you get in here?"

The tiny kitten caught you by surprise with what it did next, walking up to your feet and proceeding to rub its cheek against your ankle, a little purr emanating from its small fluffy body. You decided to risk the hissing and scratching and bent down to pick it up, your heart melting once he placed his paws on your cheek and proceeded to nuzzle your face with his nose.

"Aren't you a complete darling." He settled into your arm as you carried him out of the pantry, a little whine escaping him when you placed him down on the counter. He stood on his hind legs and made grabby hands towards you, blue eyes wide and pleading for you to pick him back up. "Just a second, sweet baby, I'm just getting you something to drink."

You took out a tiny sauce dish and poured some cream into it, pushing it toward the kitten that responded with a slow blink and a meow before licking away at the rich liquid.

"I'm sure your owner's gonna crucify me for giving you that but I can't help spoiling little fur babies especially when they're as adorable as you are." You took a sip of the coffee FRIDAY had finished making before shouting out a question for her. "Hey FRIDAY, you have any clue who this little bub belongs to?"

It took a second for her to answer. "Negative, Agent Y/L/N. There is currently no other agent on the premises looking for their pet. I also see no collar on them and from a preliminary scan they do not seem to have a microchip on them."

Those words stopped the kitten from drinking to look up toward the ceiling and hiss at the source of the voice. He only relaxed once you started stroking his fur again, going back to drinking and letting out a few purrs along the way. "No owner, huh? Does that mean I can invoke Finders Keepers then?"

"It appears so, Agent Y/L/N. What would be your new companion's name?"

The kitten looked up at you, as if expecting your answer. You wondered briefly if he could actually understand what it was that you and FRIDAY were talking about. "How about Onyx? I know I know it's absolute garbage for originality to name a black cat after a black gemstone but--"

His eyes widened before he climbed up your arm, only stopping once he'd reached your shoulder to nuzzle at your neck again. "It seems he likes the name, Agent Y/L/N."

"Then it's settled." You placed a soft kiss on top of his head. "Hello there, Onyx."

You brought your new kitten back to your apartment, setting him down on your bed while you tried to take off your sweatshirt as gently as you could manage.

"Ah, fuck it," you hissed as you felt the bruising around your ribs, letting out a pained sound when you opted to whip the garment over your head as fast as you could instead. Your reflection revealed that the bruising on the left side of your torso was quickly becoming a frightening deep purple.

Onyx meowed from your bed, again standing on his back legs and making grabby hands at you, eyes wide with evident pain.

"What's wrong, little baby?" He placed his paws gently on your side when you made your way to him, pressing his nose to the skin near where your bruising began. "Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about those, sweetie. They'll heal…eventually."

He kept on pressing his face to the area, your heart melting for the tiny kitten even more realizing that he was pressing kisses to your wounds.

"You really are such a precious little bub, aren't you?" You picked your new kitten up, placing him on the armchair in your reading nook before setting an alarm for dinner in a few hours and settling into your bed. "Get some sleep, sweet baby Onyx. I'll see you in a few hours."

Your eyes had only closed for a few seconds before you heard another tiny meow followed by a soft thud, immediately making you sit up on the bed looking for the kitten. He'd already made his way to your bedside, standing on his back legs and reaching up trying to climb up the sheets.

"Alrighty then," you mumbled, picking him up and placing him on the pillow beside yours. You rolled over to lay on your right side to remove any pressure to your injuries the best you could, hovering your finger near Onyx's nose once you'd settled in. He leaned up and pressed his nose to your finger, paws kneading on his pillow. "Boop," you giggled. "Sweet dreams, baby."

Just as you'd closed your eyes to try catching an hour or two of rest before you had to eat again and take those pain meds that Banner prescribed you, your phone began to blare Immigrant Song way too loudly by your nightstand. There were only two contacts you gave that ringtone to and one of them was currently out with her girlfriend.

"Talk to me, Thunder," you muttered, groaning when your stretch to reach for your phone made your bruising smart a bit. "You all good over there?"

"Absolutely grand, Lady Y/N," the blond god's voice boomed from the other end. "I was just wondering if you could check on my brother, he refuses to answer his phone yet again."

"That's gonna be a hard pass from me, buddy. I've already been cut and bruised, I'm not too keen to add stabbed to that list. He's probably just practicing spells. Or out on a date." You winced at that last part, an irrational part of you flaring up with unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Loki out with just about anyone. "Just--I don't know, check up on him yourself when you get back. You can take a stab better than me anyways."

Thor sighed loudly, the low rumbling making Onyx step back from his pillow and start hissing at the phone. You stroked the top of his head to calm him down. "Very well then, Lady Y/N. Rest well. We're scheduled to return after nightfall."

"I'll have pizza here waiting for you guys. Bring your own mead." You clicked off and tried to get some sleep, having FRIDAY place an order for pizzas and wings for when the team gets back. Your new kitten padded his way over to you, resting his head on your outstretched arm and letting out a soft purr.

The sound of the Quinjet coming back roused you from your nap, along with the feel of little paws on your arm and Onyx nuzzling your cheek.

"Looks like everyone's home," you mumbled, pressing a few kisses to the kitten's head before making your way out of bed. "Come on, little baby. Time to meet the team."

With a whole lot of discomfort and groaning, you slipped your sweatshirt back on before presenting your hand to Onyx and patting your shoulder, prompting the kitten to climb up your arm and perch himself on the spot, nuzzling his face behind your ear.

The team had already arrived and filled the common area when you made your way there, some of them helping themselves to the pizza. Barnes and Wilson walked in with coolers, probably filled with chilled bottles of beer inside.

"Hey, there she is!" Shaun exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of Pepsi before making his way over to you and pulling you into an embrace. "How's the healing go--Whoa there." He took a step back as Onyx hissed in his direction. "Where'd you come from, little guy?"

You shh'd the kitten, pressing kisses to his little cheek to calm him down. "It's okay, baby, Shaun is a friend. One of the good guys." You turned back to your mission partner. "Shaun, this is Onyx."

"Always thought you were a dog person, Babes," Natasha spoke up before taking your arm and walking you to the food. "We leave for one day and you become a cat lady. Where'd you even find the time to go to a shelter and get baby blue eyes over here?"

"I didn't, actually," you answered the master assassin. "I just went to the pantry and poof there he was, meowing at my feet. Like the cat distribution system mailed him to me by magic or something." He nuzzled your cheek again before starting to knead at your face.

"And he doesn't belong to anyone? You're sure?" Shaun spoke up, backing up immediately when he tried to pet your new kitten and getting hissed at. "Easy, kitty. I'm a friend, I'm not gonna hurt you." The martial artist turned back to you. "He wasn't collared? Or chipped?"

"Nope. FRIDAY scanned him and everything."

"You wanna think about getting him chipped?"

Onyx hissed again at the question before swishing his tail around to curtain your hair around him, his little body shaking on your shoulder. As if he was silently pleading for you to not take him out to have him chipped.

"Don't you worry, baby. I won't get you chipped, I wouldn't hurt you like that," you cooed, letting out a little giggle as he placed his paws on your cheeks and nuzzled your nose, giving the tip tiny licks. You were so focused on your cat's affections that the bellowing of Thor looking for his brother was a distant muffled noise in the background.

Until he got to where you were standing and his booming voice was impossible to ignore. "What an adorable little beast you have, with you, Lady Y/N." Onyx buried himself in the crook of your neck, shaking at the sound of Thor's voice.

"It's alright, Onyx. It's just Thunder, he may be all big and menacing on the outside but he's just a fluff ball on the inside. Come on, go say hi."

The blond Asgardian approached you, examining your new pet carefully before a knowing grin graced his bearded face. "Hello, Brother."

A chill went down your spine at his words. "What the fuck d'you just say, Blondie?"

He motioned toward the kitten on your shoulder. "This is the explanation for his lack of replies on his phone. His absence from his quarters. Lady Y/N, the little beast hiding himself in your hair…is my brother. That is Loki."

In your stupor, the only words you could manage to say were, "Bitch what?!"

A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to the members of SAS, beloved besties, and fellow whores! I've had this idea doing a slow lurky crawl in the microwave that is my writing noggin for the last few months, and I'm so excited that I finally get to share it with y'all! Part 2 is coming in a few days, and then it's a coin toss on whether I'll be trying to end the year with crossing off some things on my writing todo list, or crossing off some titles from my Tumblr TBR 😳👀

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #muddyorbs writes

1K notes · View notes

empresskylo · 1 year ago

Text

you wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid. pt. 1

⊹ simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

[ warnings ] slightly nsfw. reader referred to as 'she' once. wc 979

part 2

cod masterlist

Everyone shows their love differently, you just so happened to show you cared about someone by relentlessly teasing them. And it was so easy with Soap and Gaz. They would give you shit right back and you’d all burst out laughing. But when it came to Ghost—your lieutenant—you couldn’t justify throwing jabs at your superior. You imagined yourself making a joke about him being ugly under his mask and you shuddered. Even the thought of poking fun at him made you uncomfortable.

But as Ghost and Soap grew closer, you overheard their—crude—conversations on comms. And often, it was Johnny saying something stupid and Ghost’s monotone voice mocking him.

“It's dark in here,” Soap had said.

“Good observation. S’water still wet?” Ghost’s deadpan voice had made you giggle to yourself, careful to make sure you weren’t doing it over comms.

It surprised you when someone like Lt.—a stone-cold killer—could have a sense of humor. And it made you a little more influenced to act snarky, your tongue loosening around him on its own accord.

But for a while, it still managed to make your eyes widen whenever Ghost would say something silly, like when Price was basically on the verge of coming back from the dead, and Soap said, “Was worried your face was gonna melt off like those other poor bastards.”

You could still hear Ghost’s low voice in your ears. “If you ask me, it’d be an improvement.”

However, after time, you slowly fell into slipping in snides to Ghost alongside Johnny. You hadn’t even realized how often you teased him…

When you came back to the safehouse with Ghost during a mission, you were both soaked. Your clothes dripped water all over the floors, leaving a wet trail behind you. Soap and Gaz were on their way, but you and Ghost had beaten them there.

You began to shiver, the damp clothing sticking to your skin making it insufferably cold in the room. You dumped your stuff on the half-broken couch, slipping your tactical vest off. You pried your shirt off with several, strained grunts, getting it stuck over your head at one point, and then tossed it to the floor with a plopping sound. You immediately felt warmer having shed the wet material.

Your eyes flickered up and spotted Ghost. He, too, had stripped his vest off, holding it in his hand. But his eyes were locked on you, unabashedly watching as you had torn your shirt from your chest. You still had a thin tank top on, but you felt far more exposed with his eyes on you than you expected.

You smirked, not really thinking there was any intention behind his gaze. You walked towards him, wanting to go around and search the rooms for dry clothes, his eyes following you. When you brushed past him, you spoke. “You wanna kiss me so bad, Lt. It makes you look stupid.” You had meant it as a joke. To tease him for watching you—he was probably just spacing off, deep in thought, his eyes inconveniently resting on you.

His arm stretched out, connecting with the wall, making you halt. Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned to look up at him.

“So, what if I do?”

Your lips parted in a bit of shock and embarrassment. That wasn’t the response you had expected. You weren’t even sure what you should say to that. You heard Ghost chuckle, watching as your usual cocky attitude faltered.

“Not so smart, now, hm?” he teased.

You tried to shake it off, but the sticky feeling of his pupil-blown eyes staring down at you after taking your joke and throwing it back in your face shrouded your insouciant demeanor.

Did he mean what he said? Or was he just trying to catch you off guard?

Before you were forced to either acknowledge what he said, assuming his words were honest or teasing, Soap and Gaz burst through the door.

Ghost gave you one last wistful look before dropping his arm and moving into the living room. You were left a little dumbfounded, shocked that you were so overwhelmed by his one, little sentence.

When you turned to meet the boys, Ghost was watching you from behind the couch, stripping his clothes off, his eyes unwavering as they suppressed you with their weight. When he finally tore his shirt off, exposing his bare chest, you had to look away. Your cheeks felt hot as you tried to listen to what Soap was saying to you.

Soap said your names several times before you blinked and refocused.

“Sorry, what?” You muttered. Soap raised his brows at you in concern.

“She’s a bit distracted today,” Ghost chimed in from the corner of the room.

He had a fresh shirt in hand but had yet to put it to use. You scowled at him.

When everyone was getting situated several minutes later, Ghost strolled past you before lowering his head to whisper in your ear. You got goosebumps all down your neck and arms. “Not s’fun bein’ on the receiving end, huh?”

You swallowed. “Didn’t know my words bothered you so much, Lt.”

He smirked under his mask, his eyes squinting as he did. “I wouldn't say ‘bothered’. More like…” he pondered for a brief moment, “aroused.”

You choked on your spit, trying to play it off as a cough, then spun on your heels to face him. But you were left with his back, he was already walking away. You knew this should have discouraged you—that you needed to just accept defeat from your lieutenant and not mess with him any further. But, unfortunately, this brief fault in your step didn’t deter you.

If that’s the game he wanted to play, so be it. And a terrible part of you hoped he wasn’t just trying to make you uncomfortable, but was being truthful.

part 2

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #mw3 #ghost mw3

2K notes · View notes

demonic0angel · 1 year ago

Text

Hotel AU

Jason groaned, holding a military grade field dressing to his wound as he tried his best to walk faster. Gunshots rang behind him and instinct allowed him to dodge, but one bullet still managed to graze him by the shoulder. It only made pain flare up worse, but Jason just sucked in a breath through his teeth and toiled onward to get to safety.

His comms buzzed in his ear, but no one was available at the moment. Jason still muttered a soft, "Requiring backup."

No one answered.

Jason, for an existential crisis-having moment, wondered if he was gonna die again.

Just as he thought this, a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into another building.

Jason cursed and pulled out his gun with his unfortunately injured hand and pointed it towards his assailant, but then paused.

He had been pulled into a beautiful, first class looking hotel area.

"What the..." he started, before he turned.

An enormously tall woman smiled down at him. She was outrageously beautiful, with long red hair tied into a ponytail and a neat uniform covered by an apron. "Welcome, sir, to the Phantom Hotel! You seem to be in need of some assistance, would you like some help?"

Jason felt eerily calm and level headed, even as he bled all over the floors. "... that'd be nice." He said gruffly.

"Right away, sir." She said with a smile. She waved to someone over to his side and continued to speak. "I'm the co-owner of this hotel, you may call me Jazz. May I get your name for registration?"

Jason still didn't freak out yet. "Registration?" He echoed, as he took in his surroundings.

The hotel was beautiful, with tall ceilings, marble floors, white walls and candle chandeliers that glowed with dim lighting. People that didn't look like Gothamites milled around the lobby and sitting area, all relaxed and chatting amicably. There were a few that were dancing to club music. There was a noticeable bar in the corner of the room that looked unstaffed but was conspicuous in its size and black coloring.

"Yes, sir." Jazz said. "I assume that you're staying the night? We offer breakfast in the morning, and drinks are free all night!"

Jason was silent for a moment. A person wearing a similar uniform to Jazz, with a dark green vest and dark colored apron, approached them and immediately got to bandaging Jason's wounds.

Once again, Jason did not freak. He felt oddly calm, and in the back of his head, he knew that he was safe here. His gut instinct was to collapse on top of Jazz and take a nap, strangely comforted by her presence.

"... why am I so calm?"

Fuck it. He decided to just voice his question.

Jazz giggled. It was a cute noise. "Why wouldn’t you be? There’s nothing to worry about. We're the same, after all!"

Jason blinked. Then he turned to her as the attendant stepped away with the medical box, Jason feeling all healed up, and he said, "Is a night here free?"

"For you? Yep! Everything is free here."

Jason gave a nod. "Then I'll take a room with a single bed, please. Breakfast is free?"

"Yes, sir."

"Great. The name's Jason Todd."

Jazz smiled, a sparkle in her eyes that made Jason feel all fuzzy with warmth. "Very good, sir. Your room number is 312, on the third floor. Here's your room card." She handed over a plastic card that was procured out of thin air but Jason didn't think about it.

He was mentally exhausted and being in her presence made him feel like he was going to drop and fall asleep on the floor and still wake up refreshed. It was so disconcerting that it was almost not disconcerting.

Jason eventually found the elevator, though not without lingering a little around the area. The vigilante in him was telling him to be careful, even though everything else inside of him couldn't give less of a damn and was telling him to kick back and relax. Jazz, after registering him, had gone to the bar to prepare drinks.

She mixed together alcoholic concoctions amidst a small crowd and the more Jason stared, the more it seemed like the dim light was hiding something. People looked like they were wearing ragged clothes and a lot of them had dark stains. There were quite a large amount of old people as well, along with people with seemingly missing appendages.

The last two details wasn't a bad thing, but the amount of them seemed like a hint to something bigger.

When Jazz made eye contact with Jason, she gave a sweet smile and a little wave, and that was Jason's signal to leave.

He got into an elevator, went to his room, and practically sank into the cloud-like bed before he basically knocked himself out. That night, he had never slept so well.

When he woke up, his body felt rejuvenated and he almost felt peppy. It was as if his previous irritations were only bad days and he had finally struck on a good day for once.

He washed up, miraculously found his wounds all healed up, and when he went to take a shower, his clothes were found on the sink, all washed and patched up. Even his helmet had been cleaned and fixed, pristine like the day he had first gotten it.

Jason could've been more suspicious.

But to reiterate, he couldn't.

Everything about this place was like a mother's hug. It was comforting. It made him feel safe. He felt like there was nothing to worry about and although a small part of him found this alarming, he really couldn't explain why he decided to trust it.

When he came down the elevator for breakfast, he was astonished.

Last night, the hotel had looked elegant and high class. Now, in the morning, everything looked warm and homey.

The various large rectangle tables had turned into small round tables that were densely packed together. The floor was a cool blue carpet and the walls had turned a shade of cream. The ceiling had shrank, but now flowers and vines grew from it, dropping from the ceiling with bright blossoms. The bar had been replaced with a little coffee area, with a young man behind the counter, currently taking orders.

The people sitting around and eating their breakfasts looked different in morning light. They glowed with faint shades of blue and green.

Jason paused to take in the sight, considering this information before he shook it off and approached the counter.

The man, after noticing him, immediately went to the cash register with a large smile on his face. "Hello!" He said cheerfully.

Jason immediately noted the similarities between him and Jazz. They had the same heart shaped face, the same ethereal beauty to them, the same nose and smile. This man, however, had bright blue eyes and dark black hair that swept over his eyes.

"What are you drugging me with? I'm way too comfortable here." Jason blurted out.

The man paused. And then he burst out laughing. Jason couldn't help the few snickers that fell out of his throat too, but they both quickly calmed down and the man explained softly, "We're not drugging you. You're just comfortable here because it's where you belong. Don't stress too much."

He continued to smile reassuringly. "Call me Danny. I'm the owner. What would you like to order?"

Jason's eyes flicked to the menu and then he said, "A California club croissant and a caramel latte, please."

"Coming right up, big guy!"

Jason moved a little bit away to the side so that other people could order.

He couldn't help but contemplate what was going on, but it was a little hard to think being this close to Danny's presence. The urge to fight against his soothed mind and the urge to just relax were warring, but unfortunately, his latter side was winning.

If Jazz had seemed comforting and like a hug, then Danny was the blanket, fireplace, hot chocolate cup and book on a cool rainy evening. It was like Danny was his missing piece that just sucked out all of the fear, misery, and rage inside of him.

It was almost crazy how Jason didn't want to retaliate against them at all.

"Here you go, Jason." A voice interrupted him and Jason looked up into crystalline eyes before something was pushed into his hands.

Jason looked down at his order and then up again. "Thanks."

Danny smiled. "No problem! You're pretty freaked out, huh?"

Jason shrugged. Then he thought about it and he asked, "Can I leave?"

"Of course you can." Danny said. "Come back anytime. For someone like you, you have the opportunity to come by anytime you want."

Jason nodded wordlessly and then, with his order in hand, he started walking to the door.

For one last time, he turned and met Danny's eyes. Danny smiled cheerfully, his eyes squinted in happiness. He gave a big wave and Jason returned it before he put on his helmet and pushed past the doors into the open air of Gotham's polluted and smoky world.

The rose glasses fell off and the pink sparkles faded away with each blink.

Jason stared dumbfounded at his own state of body and mind, as his siblings and family all screamed into his ear frantically, begging to know where he went and how he was.

Jason could only stare at the gray, listless world around him and wonder if he had imagined everything.

"What the fuck?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #jazz fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #hotel au #dp au #dp x dc au #one shot #spoiler: the hotel is a hotel for the dead >:)#it’s back to school for me :’<

2K notes · View notes

pr · 3 months ago

Text

anyway just won an award for this job

ok last time i told all o yall about a job i was interviewing for that i was anxious about i actually GOT the job so: i have an interview for a job at my alma mater and im PSYCHED and need to be EMPLOYED so please pray manifest vibes etc me nailing it and getting this job 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💚🦅

#i temporarily have discord uninstalled and deleted instagram and reddit doesnt give af so im opening tumblr in mobile browser to show yall #lmao and you know the drill terminator voice i'll be back #once the election is over i think. maybe.#anyway today my bosses joked i should become the publicist of our department instead of a comms person AKDHALSH #and they were both like hey what do we have to do to keep you in this role forever bc we love you so much dont leave #and i told them i am not leaving until august 2026 at the earliest so yippee!!!!!#i get to work with the most incredible ppl its kind of insane how i struck the jackpot w two incredible bosses #but also the rest of my life is crumbling around me and im clinging to my career like a lifesaver 🫠#okay byyyyye have fun be safe make good choices #op

62 notes · View notes

leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago

Text

Search and Rescue

Zayne x gn!Reader

I swear one day I'll write another Zayne fic that has absolutely nothing medical in it at all

Warnings: hurt/comfort, some angst, blizzards/snowstorms, blood, injury, minor character death, self-sacrifice, hypothermia, dialogue heavy, established relationship

Word Count: 3,333 (I did this on purpose >:3)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

When the weather reports come in, so too do the calls for you and Zayne. Jenna needs you on duty to help anybody who gets trapped in the oncoming blizzard, and Zayne needs to be at the hospital to help emergency patients and those sheltering from the storm.

It’s hours before the storm is supposed to roll in when you begin getting ready. Zayne helps you find heavy-duty waterproof gloves and don enough layers to keep you moderately warm while you work. You pack Zayne emergency snacks and drinks. He tucks one of the protein bars into your coat pocket.

The tension of the danger that lies ahead is palpable. Rescue missions aren’t unusual for either of you, but keeping up with communication and the unpredictable nature of what could happen will make things very tricky, very fast.

You hold his hand as he drives to the hospital. The Alpha Team will be setting up base there to account for the high influx of patients. The perimeter will reach a few blocks. Whether you stay within it remains to be seen.

It would be hypocritical of him to tell you not to risk your life for the sake of another, more so than his usual hypocrisy when it comes to taking care of himself, so he doesn’t say that. Instead, he tells you, “Don’t be reckless.”

You smile. “I won’t be,” you promise.

Both of you know it’s a lie, whether you intend for it to be or not. You’ve always thrown yourself into danger at the drop of a hat. Now, as a Hunter, the danger keeps growing, and you still charge head-first into it.

He squeezes your hand.

The hospital bustles with preparations. Gurneys are lined along the halls, prepared to be filled once the last of the rooms fill up. Nurses are preparing stations to provide food, drinks, and blankets to anybody who needs it. Doctors offer contingency plans for a million different hypotheticals while dictating what patients should go where.

Jenna and your team help where they can. Nero is setting up a communication station that should make it possible to keep in touch during the storm. Tara is helping to set up Hunter Watches with emergency beacons, just in case anything does happen.

The storm is mere hours away.

Zayne removes his scarf and wraps it around you. You smile up at him reassuringly as he tucks the ends into your jacket. “Stay in contact.”

“I will. Every step, the team will know about it.”

He smiles slightly. “Good.” Not one for PDA, he nods to you, a silent wish of good luck and a quiet plea to come back to him in one piece. You return it, wishing him the same and promising to make it back even if it kills you.

And then he’s with the other doctors, preparing for the worst.

You jog over to your team. Tara beams at you, taking your wrist and setting up the beacon. Jenna debriefs you on what you need to do. Nero double checks that your comms will work.

It feels like no time has passed at all before the trouble begins.

Your snowmobile cuts over the snow piled on top of the blacktop. Tire tracks are quickly covered up or blown away. Cars sit parked on the side of the road or haphazardly abandoned right in the middle. The wind bites at your face like sharp teeth made of ice. The scarf around your mouth and nose prevents it from stealing your breath. Goggles protect your eyes, though the snow steals your visibility. Your hands have already started to go numb, but you press on.

The GPS on the snowmobile is glitching and useless with the storm blocking its signal. You have to rely on your knowledge of the area and Jenna’s voice in your ear directing you. There was a distress call sent in from a nearby park. It’s out of the set perimeter, but you’re the closest person available to help.

“The victim has a road flare available to them. Tell me when you’re in the area.”

“I’m almost at the entrance. I’ll go in on foot.”

“Careful. Don’t lose your way. Do you have anything to act as a marker?”

You pull up at the familiar iron gates of the park. You and Zayne come here for picnics when you have days off, so you know it pretty well by now. You dismount and try to find anything to use as a tether or beacon, but you just don’t have the resources. “I don’t.”

Jenna sighs. You really are her most reckless Hunter. “Call out the direction of the flare. Use it to retrace your steps back.”

“Understood.” You pull the scarf tighter around your ears as you head into the park. The snow is powdery beneath your feet, covering up your boots with every step. When you glance behind, your footprints are already gone. “Tell them to light the flare.”

Wind whips around, kicking up snow into your face and sneaking into your many layers. Once you get back, Jenna will send out another Hunter while you warm up and help at base. Just a few more minutes in the cold, and you can rest. The prospect urges you to keep pushing on, even as the damp begins collecting in your socks.

A faint pink glow pierces the haze. The light is diffused so much you almost miss it. “Spotted. North west from the entrance.”

The park feels like a deserted tundra the deeper in you go. You can’t see the iron fence that blocks it in, only the trees scattered around, barren or otherwise full of pine needles. You try to name what kind of tree they are, to help you on your way back.

On the left, a sycamore.

On the right, a pine tree.

Feet feel like miles, dragging on as the cold begins to seep in.

The glow of the flare disappears just ahead of you. Through the snow, you see the vague outline of a person. You pull down your scarf, exposing your mouth to the incoming agony of chapped lips, and cup your hands.

“HEY!” you shout. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

A muffled reply is swept away in the blizzard. With a bolstered resolve, you block the wind with your arm and push onwards. It isn’t much longer before the silhouette begins to clear.

Your watch beeps with a Metaflux warning. You’re frozen to the spot as you watch the horrific sight.

A Wanderer, some sort of knave, hunches over a body. A thin blanket flutters around the corpse, obscuring the figure. Red snow melts around them. The Wanderer’s arm is coated in the same red, seemingly fascinated with the spent flare as it prods it out of the victim’s hand.

“There’s a Wanderer,” you say through the comm. The creature’s head snaps up to you. You fumble for your gun, too tucked away to get to easily. It charges, blade-arms raised.

“Can you hear me?” Jenna tries again. It’s all static. Nero frantically tries reconnecting the link, but to no avail. “Have they lit their beacon yet?”

He shakes his head. “No. No, not yet.”

Tara gasps softly, hands covering her mouth as she stares at the holographic map. A red error warns of the lack of a signal, waiting for any sort of input to track. “What are we going to do?”

Jenna taps her finger on her arm.

Zayne helps someone in from outside. The snow gusts after them until the doors are pushed shut, chilling the lobby. He notices the red glow from the corner of his eye. His heart plummets to his stomach.

Trying to keep a level head, he passes the minorly injured person to a nurse, and rushes over. “What happened?” he demands.

Jenna looks at him from the corner of her eye, before fully turning to face him. “You’re close with Y/N, aren’t you?”

He nods. It only confirms his suspicions: something happened to you.

“They were answering a distress call when their line went dead. We believe they were attacked by a Wanderer, though the amount or type is unclear. They haven’t lit their beacon yet-”

“Captain!” Tara cries. “They lit it!”

She turns back to the map. The red error is gone, replaced with a blinking yellow icon. Zayne leans forward, reading the road labels.

“Do you have another snowmobile?” he asks.

“I can’t send a civilian into this storm.”

“I have extensive experience with search and rescue missions like this, Captain. And I know the area well. Along with my Evol, I should be able to retrieve them with little trouble.” He’s already buttoning his coat as he speaks, tucking his glasses away for safekeeping.

Jenna smirks. “You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, will you?”

His ears are tinted pink as he looks away. You really are a bad influence on him.

“Here.” She grabs a bracelet-like device and wraps it around his wrist. “This way we’ll be able to track you through the storm.” Then she hands him a small earpiece. “Keep in touch. There’s another snowmobile outside.”

The storm hasn’t gotten any better by the time he reaches the park.

His cheeks are red from the cold, eyes bleary from the wind, and anxiety grips his heart like a vise. He parks his snowmobile beside yours. Snow has thoroughly covered the seat and skis.

He announces his arrival to your team. They lead him in the direction of your distress beacon.

The wind is deafening. The most recent weather reports predict that the storm will die down in a couple hours, but that’s far too long to wait for you to survive through.

Snow collects on his jacket as he blocks his face. The snow on the ground almost reaches his mid-calf, making movement difficult. But he powers through. He must. The thought of you dying out here, slow and alone, chills him to the bone even more than the blizzard, even more than his Evol. He refuses to let that happen.

A plastic wrapper, half-buried in the snow, catches his attention. He kneels down to look at it. The familiar colors and branding of the protein bar he stuffed in your pocket greets him. If this is yours, it means you’re alive enough to eat.

He shoves it into his pocket and keeps going.

“The map says they’re nearby,” your captain says through his earpiece several minutes later. He leans against a sycamore tree for cover. “Directly ahead of you.”

He shoves off and continues trudging forward. A dark shape under the snow 10 feet away catches his attention. His chest is tight as he drops down and begins uncovering it. It feels like his heart has stopped completely when he reveals the back of your coat.

He calls your name, digging his arms underneath your body to lift you and rest you against his chest. He bites the finger of his glove to pull it off. Your skin is ice cold as he feels for a pulse…

It takes nearly a minute before he feels the faint beat of your heart. He assesses you for any injuries. It doesn’t take long to find one.

Across your stomach is a long slash. Your clothes are torn, revealing ice-bitten skin and the jagged edges of your wound. When he looks, he can see a long trail in the snow, already being filled in. He can just imagine the agony you must have been in, trying to crawl through the snow back to safety. Eating your protein bar for a boost of energy, just to keep going.

He slips his glove back on and cradles you tightly to his chest as he stands and heads back the way he came.

“I found them. I’m heading back now.”

He’s back at the sycamore tree when your watch beeps. A glowing ring appears around your wrist, red with warning. He hears the Wanderer’s cry on the other side of the tree.

He quickly kneels down, supporting your body in his lap and cradling you with one arm, while the other calls ice to his hand. His face is set, eyes sharp. The second the creature rounds the trunk, he’s hurling ice at its chest.

Memories of fighting Wanderers in the mountains, of losing his friend, burn in his chest. Zayne fights with unyielding determination to get you home.

It’s warm. Almost too warm. Memories of playing outside in the snow as a child, only to come in and have burning sensations on your fingers and face, drift lazily through your mind.

There’s a weight on top of you. It’s too hot.

Lifting your arms feels like a monumental task. Trying to shove the blanket off is even harder. You’re panting before you’ve even uncovered your chest.

It’s suddenly pulled off of you, uncovering your legs from the burdensome heat. The cooler air of the room sends goosebumps all down your arms.

“Don’t move too much.”

Your head lolls to the side. Your eyelids are impossibly heavy. You’re so tired. You try to speak, but it comes out as garbled nonsense.

“Shh. You’re on a lot of pain medication right now.” Something soft touches your forehead. You stop fighting to keep your eyes open. “Get some sleep.”

You dream of building snowmen and drinking hot cocoa.

The next time you come to, your whole body aches. Your muscles scream in agony with every little twitch. The worst of it comes from your belly; a persistent sting that brings immediate tears to your eyes. You gasp and whimper as your hand tries searching for the source of your pain.

Something grabs your hand and pulls it away, holding it tenderly to the side. “Does it hurt?”

You whimper again, nodding pathetically.

“Okay. It’s okay. Give it a minute. It’ll go away soon.”

You try forcing your eyes open again. They don’t feel as heavy now. You can start to make out Zayne’s dark hair, the focus on his face as he makes adjustments to the equipment you’re hooked up to.

Slowly, the pain ebbs into a dull ache. He turns his attention back to you.

“Feel better?”

You nod again slightly. He smiles softly, but it looks like he’s struggling with it.

“Mhnn, what happened?” you slur.

He squeezes your hand gently, running his thumb over the bandages wrapped around your fingers.. The skin underneath is dry and cracked from the cold and the self-destruction of your crawling, but your blood runs warm underneath. “What do you remember?” he asks instead.

You blink, frowning with concentration. You remember the blizzard. Getting ready with Zayne in the morning. Meeting your team in the hospital. A dozen or so back-and-forth rescues. And then…

The barren trees appear in your mind through a haze. Dark red against melting snow. Fabric flapping wildly in the wind.

“The Wanderer…”

Zayne nods slowly. “Your comms went down. Your team couldn’t contact you at all.”

“Yeah, it…” You subconsciously reach for your ear, as though trying to find the earpiece. “It knocked it off when I dodged away.”

“And then you set off your beacon.”

A timid look comes over your face. He sighs, already knowing what you’re going to say. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I fought it off first. My gun was hard to reach, but-”

“So you waited until it was dead to alert anybody else to your struggle, even though it could have killed you before you ever got the chance.” It wasn’t a question. You can’t meet his eyes. Even after promising him to be careful, to stay in contact with your team at all times, you still put your life in unnecessary danger.

“‘M sorry…”

He sighs.

You look at him again, studying his attire. It’s buttoned all the way to his neck. His tie is crooked. “What happened after that?”

“Your captain gave me what I needed to rescue you myself,” he starts. You cut him off with wide eyes.

“She let you go on your own?”

He grins wryly, but the pinch in his brow shows just how strained it is. “You’re a terrible influence on me, you know that?”

You grin, too. You nod for him to continue.

A darkness covers his eyes. Bright hazel dimmed by the emotions that were still warring within him, battling with the relief that you’re still alive. “I found you buried in the snow,” he murmurs. “You were barely alive. The Wanderer didn’t hit anything vital, but you’d still lost a lot of blood. Paired with the frostbite… It’s a miracle you still have your extremities.

“I rushed you back to the hospital. We immediately began treating you with a heated IV. Once you were stable, we started you on a blood transfusion and treated your wound.” He nods to your stomach where your pain still lingers.

You look down at yourself. The blanket is still pulled off of you, folded off to the side. The snap-front gown they put you in allows for easy access to your stomach. You can see the bandages through a couple of the snaps.

Your eyes slowly trail to your connected hands. Your fingers are individually wrapped. His warmth seeps in through the bandages. But there’s something else…

You carefully pry your hand from his so yours is on top. He lets you, watching your movements for any discomfort. Your fingers glide over the faded scars of his hand, up to his sleeve. He pulls away when you push back the cuff, but you’ve already seen the glimpse of a bandage wrapped around his arm.

“You’re hurt, too.”

“It’s superficial.”

“Since when has that mattered to you?” you tease.

He glares at you, but there’s hardly any venom behind it. He looks away, readjusting his sleeve all the while. “More Wanderers appeared after I found you. A couple scratches here and there, but nothing serious,” he dismisses.

You seek out his hand again. There’s a quirk to your lip, one that belies the mischief in your actions, yet he gives himself to you anyway. You trace up the same pattern as before and struggle to undo the button of his sleeve. He undoes it for you. You’re unrelenting at the best of times; it’s easier not to fight it. He even lifts it up slightly, fully revealing the wrap around his wrist and forearm. The soft gauze padding can be seen through the thin material, outlining where the injury really is.

“Some couple we are,” you murmur. “We get hurt and we deny it with our every breath.”

He huffs a laugh. “Two self-sacrificing fools.”

You hum with a nod, continuing to trace over his injury. The mirth begins to drain from your face. “I’m sorry… For not calling for help sooner. For letting you get dragged into the mess I created.”

“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit, my love,” he whispers reassuringly as he slides his fingers up your wrist until he’s holding your hand again. He brings your bandaged knuckles to his lips. You watch the way his lips curve against your minor wounds. “I will always come to your aid, by my own choice, whether you created the ‘mess’ or not.”

“I love you,” you whisper in return.

He kisses your knuckles again. “The feeling is mutual.”

You pinch his chin playfully. He chuckles. “Get some rest. I’ll get something for you to eat.”

He lowers your hand back to the bed and stands up. His fingers work nimbly to button his sleeve and fix it once more. You catch his hand before he can turn to leave. He looks down at you attentively. You could ask him for the stars and he’d pluck every single one from the sky to give to you. You smile sweetly up at him, that familiar glint in your eye giving your tricks away.

“Does the hospital serve hot chocolate?”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover

#fanfic #fanfiction #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

186 notes · View notes

the-winter-spider · 3 months ago

Text

Never Enough | B.Barnes

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Angst, fluff, comfort idk

Masterlist

—

The mission had been textbook so far, each Avenger playing their part with precision and skill. You moved through the chaos with a focused intensity, your grey-hued powers crackling around your hands as you deflected incoming attacks and shielded your teammates. The battlefield was a blur of noise and movement, but you were in the zone, you always were every action calculated to protect those around you, no one would ever get hurt because of you again.

Sam was high in the sky, engaged in an aerial battle with a group of enemy drones, when you spotted something he didn’t, a sniper, hidden on a distant rooftop, aimed directly at him “Sam!” You yelled through the comms, when all you heard was static you muttered to yourself “shit shit shit”

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the glint of the scope, without a second thought, you threw herself into action, your powers surging as you manipulated the grey energy to redirect the bullet.

The energy crackled and hissed as it wrapped around the speeding projectile, altering its course just enough to avoid a fatal shot, but in the process, you lost control for a split second, and the bullet grazed your ear, tearing through flesh before embedding harmlessly in a nearby wall.

You stumbled slightly from the impact, your hand instinctively reaching up to the side of your head, when you pulled it away, your fingers were slick with blood. The warm liquid began to trickle down your face, but you pushed the pain aside, focusing on the relief that Sam was still in the sky, unharmed.

The mission wrapped up quickly after that, the team neutralising the last of their enemies. As they regrouped, Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you, and his stomach dropped when he saw the blood staining the side of your face.

“Doll?!” he called out, rushing over to you. His heart pounded in his chest as he reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he tilted your chin to get a better look at the wound “You’re bleeding.”

You winced slightly at his touch but managed a small, reassuring smile “It’s just a graze, Bucky, I’m fine”

“Fine?” he repeated, his voice tinged with panic “You’re bleeding all over the place” his hands touching you all over, eyes racking your body to make sure it was the only one.

You gently pulled his hand away from you, giving him a firm look, still holding his hand in yours squeezing it “It’s fine, really. Sam’s okay, and that’s what matters”

As if on cue, Sam landed beside them, his wings retracting as he touched down. He noticed the blood immediately, his eyes widening in shock. “Y/N, what the hell happened?”

You waved it off as if it were nothing, because it was nothing “Just a little sniper action, I saw the shot coming your way and redirected it, no big deal” You shrugged

Sam’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder “Thank you, I didn’t even see it coming… you saved my life”

You could feel his eyes peering into the side of your head, as if he was trying to see into your head and what you were actually thinking and what you were actually feeling. Before Bucky could protest further, the rest of the team gathered around, assessing the situation.

Natasha gave Y/N a once-over, her eyes lingering on the blood before nodding approvingly “Nice work out there.”

“Yeah, way to keep Sam in one piece,” Clint added with a grin.

You smiled, though the adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the pain was becoming harder to ignore. Bucky noticed the way your smile faltered, but before he could press you to get checked out, Tony’s voice came over the comms, the ones that were finally working.

“Alright, team, let’s pack it up and head back to the Compound. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief as they headed to the jet. You knew Bucky was worried, but you couldn’t let him fuss over you right now. The wound was minor, and all that mattered was that all of you were heading home, all of them, your family…. alive.

The flight back to the Compound was uneventful, the team settling into a comfortable silence as they let the exhaustion of the mission sink in. You sat beside Bucky, leaning your head against the cool window, ignoring the throbbing on the side of your head. You could feel Bucky’s concerned gaze on you, but you kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep to avoid another confrontation.

When they landed, the team made their way to the common area, still buzzing with post-mission energy. Tony had ordered dinner, and they all gathered around the large table, digging into the food that was quickly delivered. The atmosphere was light, everyone enjoying the rare moment of relaxation.

As they ate, Tony cleared his throat, drawing the group’s attention “Before we all dig into dessert, I’ve got something to say.”

The room quieted as everyone looked at him expectantly.

“I was going over the mission logs today,” Tony continued, a playful smirk on his face. “And it turns out that our very own Y/N here has officially been on more missions than anyone else on the team this year.”

You blinked in surprise, your fork pausing mid-air. The rest of the team looked at you with varying degrees of shock and admiration.

“Wait, seriously?” Bruce asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Y/N joined after most of us,” Natasha added, her tone impressed.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of pride and concern flickering in his gaze. He knew how driven you were, but hearing that you had been on the most missions—despite the risks you took—made his heart clench. It made someone chun inside of him, he felt uneasy and nauseous. He knew you had baggage, dark shadows lurking behind you, almost everyone on the team did but this felt different.

You shifted uncomfortably under the attention, forcing a smile as you shrugged, trying to brush off the unwanted attention “Just trying to keep up with the rest of you.”

Tony raised his glass in a mock toast. “Well, here’s to Y/N—the MVP of the team. Just try not to hog all the action next year.”

Everyone chuckled, raising their glasses in her honour. You smiled, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the day and the worried look in Bucky’s eyes.

As the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You needed a moment alone to process everything—the wound, the mission, and the weight of Tony’s announcement.

As the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You needed a moment alone to process everything-the wound, the mission, and the weight of Tony's announcement.

But you weren't alone for long. Bucky found you, as he always did, quietly joining you, his presence a comforting warmth in the darkness.

"Sweetheart," he began, his voice low as he reached for you, brushing the hair off your face. His fingers lingered near the now bandaged wound. "You've got to stop doing this to yourself."

You didn't turn to face him, your gaze fixed on the stars above. "I'm fine, Buck... really."

He stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your arm, his grip firm but tender, trying to keep his frustration in check. "I'm not just talking about today, you're pushing yourself too hard…you're getting hurt too often. I know this seems minor to you, but... you're everything to me, doll, I can't-" He cut himself off, swallowing hard.

You finally turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his, the weight of his words settling in your chest. "I have to, Bucky. I can't stop, not when there's so much at stake”

He sighed, his expression tight with frustration, pain clouding his usually soft gaze."You don't have to do it all alone, we're a team. You've got us-you've got me…you always have me”

For a moment, you just stood there, the unspoken tension between you heavy in the air. You wanted to argue, to tell him that you needed to keep going, to keep saving lives. But the concern in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, made it harder to deny that maybe, just maybe, you were running yourself into the ground.

"I know you're trying to help," you said softly, your voice trembling as you searched for the right words. "But I don't know how to stop... I don't know how to just... be."

Bucky's face softened, and he pulled you closer, his arms

wrapping around you as if he could shield you from everything. "You don't have to have it all figured out right now. We'll take it slow, okay? You don't have to do this”

But even as you stood there in his embrace, a part of you resisted. You couldn't shake the feeling that slowing down, letting go, meant giving up some part of yourself. And that terrified you.

You pulled away from him, your heart pounding in your chest as a sudden wave of frustration surged inside you. "You don't get it, Bucky," you said, your voice rising despite your best efforts to keep it steady. "If I stop-if I take a break-then what am I even here for? All I have is the next mission, the next chance to save someone else."

Bucky's brow furrowed, his hands hovering near you, unsure whether to reach for you again. "That's not true…you're here because you matter, because we matter. You're not just some weapon to be used over and over”

You shook your head, stepping back as the anger and pain you'd been suppressing for so long started to spill over. "I can't just stop, okay? You don't understand what it's like, knowing that no matter what I do, it'll never be enough to erase what happened." He had his own demons, you knew that, he knew that. You knew he knew what it felt like, that no matter how much good you did, you could never erase the past.

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asked, his voice quiet, pleading "Enough for what?"

"My family," you snapped, the words tearing out of you like a wound being ripped open. "I killed them, Bucky. I was supposed to protect them, and I didn't. I couldn't." Your voice broke, and you took in a shaky breath, tears burning in your eyes. "No matter how many lives I save, it won't bring them back. It won't make up for what I did."

The silence that followed was deafening. Bucky stared at you, his expression stricken, as if he could feel the weight of your pain pressing down on him too. His voice, when he spoke, was raw and filled with emotion. "You were a kid... You couldn't control it. How could you blame yourself for that?"

"Because who else is there to blame?" you cried, your voice cracking with the intensity of your grief. "I'm the one who's supposed to have control. I'm the one with these powers, and I couldn't – didn't save them….and now, I have to keep going because if I don't... if I stop..."

"If you stop, what?" Bucky's voice was sharp now, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. "You think you'll suddenly fall apart? You think it'll undo everything you've done, everything you've fought for?"

You wiped at your eyes angrily, turning away from him. "Maybe….Maybe I deserve to fall apart. Maybe I should."

"Stop," he said, stepping forward, his voice firm, a thread of anger creeping into it. "You're punishing yourself, and it's not helping anyone, least of all you."

You spun back around, the heat of your emotions pushing you beyond the point of caring. "And what if I am? What if this is the only way I know how to keep going?"

Bucky's face hardened, the pain in his eyes replaced with something colder, something distant. "You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up and I can't stand by and watch you do that!”

"Then don't!" you yelled, your chest heaving as the words tumbled out before you could stop them. "If it's so hard for you, then just leave, Bucky! I'm used to being alone."

His silence was like a slap in the face. For a moment, you thought he might actually walk away, that you had finally pushed him too far.

But when he spoke, his voice was quiet, devastated. "You really think l'd leave you? After everything?"

You swallowed hard, the weight of your own words sinking in, but the anger and the pain wouldn't let you stop. "Maybe you should…maybe it would be easier for both of us."

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes shining with hurt. "If that's what you want."

You felt the sting of your own words twisting in your chest, regret pooling in your stomach. But it was too late now. The damage was done, you couldn't take it back.

Without another word, Bucky turned and walked away, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, each one echoing like a hammer in your chest.

And when the door finally closed behind him, the quiet that followed was suffocating. The stars above you blurred as the tears finally fell, but this time, there was no one there to hold you together.

You were alone. Just like you always feared you would be.

After the door closed behind him, you stood frozen, your breath caught in your throat. The silence was heavy, thick with the weight of words you couldn’t take back. The pain in Bucky’s eyes haunted you, replaying in your mind like a broken record.

You leaned against the balcony railing, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turned white. The cold wind stung against the cut on your ear, but the physical pain was a dull ache compared to the emotional wreckage inside of you.

“I did it again,” you whispered to yourself, your voice shaky, broken. “I pushed him away.”

You thought back to the mission, to the moment you’d saved Sam without thinking of yourself. That was who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who always threw themselves in harm’s way, someone who believed their life was a bargaining chip to protect others. But with Bucky…it was different. He didn’t need saving. He needed you to let him in, and you couldn’t.

The stars blurred as more tears filled your eyes. All you could see was the look of betrayal on Bucky’s face as he turned to leave.

Maybe you were too far gone. Maybe the weight of your past, of your guilt, was too much for anyone to carry, even Bucky. He’d seen the worst of you, and now, maybe he’d finally had enough.

You choked back a sob, the hollow emptiness in your chest growing, threatening to swallow you whole. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you fought to hold yourself together, but it was no use. The cracks were already showing.

And in the quiet of the night, with nothing but the stars and your own racing thoughts, you wondered if you’d pushed the one person who could understand you too far. If you’d finally driven him away for good.

The door didn’t open again.

You were alone. Truly, completely alone. And the worst part was, it felt like you deserved it. Because you did.

You stayed there, staring at the night sky as if the stars could offer answers, but all they did was remind you of how small and insignificant everything felt. The wind howled through the silence, and your body shook—whether from the cold or from the emotions tearing you apart, you weren’t sure.

Suddenly, the door creaked open again, and for a moment, your heart leapt, thinking Bucky had come back. But when you heard the familiar sound of soft footsteps, you realised it was someone else.

“You okay?” Natasha’s voice was quiet, cautious.

You didn’t turn around, wiping at your eyes quickly to hide the tears “Yeah… just needed some air.”

Natasha came to stand beside you, leaning her elbows on the railing, her sharp eyes scanning your face even though you refused to meet them. “You know, you’re a terrible liar”

You huffed a humourless laugh, the sound bitter in your throat. “Guess I am”

Natasha sighed softly, leaning in closer. “I heard what happened… between you and Bucky, i didn't mean to eavesdrop ”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening at the mention of his name “Yeah, well, it’s my fault. I pushed him away, that’s what I do.”

Natasha tilted her head, her gaze softer than usual. “You think pushing people away makes you stronger, but it’s only making you more vulnerable”

You stared at the ground, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I’m too broken to fix? What if I ruin everything I touch?”

Natasha straightened, her expression turning serious. “You’re not broken, Y/N. You’re hurting but there’s a difference.”

You shook your head, your fingers tightening around the railing “You didn’t see the look on his face when I practically told him to leave….and he did.”

Natasha crossed her arms, her voice sharp but not unkind. “Bucky’s not the type to give up easily, especially when it comes to you, he loves you so much…He’ll come back, but you have to let him in. You can’t keep shutting him out, or one day… he might not come back”

You finally looked at her, your eyes brimming with unshed tears “What if it’s too late?”

Natasha shook her head. “It’s not too late..not unless you let it be”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to break down again. “I don’t know how to stop, Nat. I don’t know how to stop blaming myself.”

Natasha placed a hand on your arm, her grip firm, grounding you. “You have to forgive yourself, you weren’t responsible for what happened to your family and you’re not responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world, You’ve done more than enough.”

You felt the weight of her words, but they seemed so far away from what you felt in your chest. “I don’t know if I can.”

Natasha’s eyes softened again. “Then let us help you, let Bucky help you..that’s what he wants and its what you need”

You looked away, your voice small and fragile. “I’m afraid I’ll lose him, I’m afraid I’ll lose all of you.”

Natasha squeezed your arm gently. “You won’t, but if you keep pushing us away, you’re only going to lose yourself”

For a long moment, you stood in silence, her words sinking in. The night air felt a little colder, but her presence grounded you, reminded you that you weren’t alone—even if it felt that way.

Finally, you nodded, barely a whisper escaping your lips. “I don’t know how to fix this, Nat.”

Natasha gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to fix everything, Y/N. Sometimes, you just have to let people be there for you”

You stood there for a moment longer, Natasha’s words hanging in the air like a lifeline. She was right. You didn’t have to fix everything alone, and Bucky—he wouldn’t give up on you that easily.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to her. “Thanks, Nat… I think I need to talk to him”

Natasha gave you a knowing smile, her eyes softening. “Go…He’s probably waiting for you.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way inside. The hallways of the Compound were quiet, the hum of the place barely a whisper against the tension knotting in your stomach. You weren’t sure where he had gone, but you knew Bucky—he would seek solitude, someplace quiet to think.

Heading toward the common area, you peeked around the corners until you found him sitting on the couch, his back turned to you. His posture was tense, shoulders hunched forward as he stared blankly at the wall. The sight of him like that—silent and still—made your chest ache. You hated seeing him hurt, especially when it was your words that had caused it.

You took a tentative step forward, clearing your throat softly. “Bucky?”

His shoulders tensed at the sound of your voice, but he didn’t turn around. For a moment, you feared he might stay silent, that you had pushed him too far. But then, he sighed, his voice low and filled with emotion “What do you want, Y/N?”

Your heart clenched, and you took a deep breath before stepping closer. “I… I just wanted to apologise for what I said earlier”

Bucky’s head tilted slightly, but he still didn’t turn around “You told me to leave, so I did.”

You winced at the pain in his voice, the weight of your own words crashing over you again “I didn’t mean it, Buck…I was just… scared. Of losing you, of everything”

There was a long pause, the silence stretching between you like a chasm you were desperate to cross. Finally, Bucky spoke, his voice quiet but laced with vulnerability. “I know you’re scared, but so am I.”

You blinked in surprise, stepping even closer now, your hand reaching out hesitant to touch his shoulder “You’re scared?”

He finally turned to face you, his blue eyes soft and filled with a raw emotion that made your breath hitch. “Of course I am, every time I see you throw yourself into danger like that, I’m terrified I’m going to lose you. You keep pushing yourself too hard, Y/N, and it’s killing me. You mean everything to me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away. “Bucky… I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how much I was hurting you.”

He stood up then, towering over you but not in an intimidating way. His presence was warm, comforting, and despite everything, you felt safe with him. He reached out slowly, brushing his fingers against your cheek as if testing the waters “I just want you to be okay, doll…that’s all I’ve ever wanted, you’re all i ever want”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes searching his, the sincerity of his words making your heart ache. “I don’t want to push you away. I just… I’ve been running for so long, I didn’t know how to stop.”

Bucky’s thumb gently traced along your cheek, his touch soft and reassuring “Then stop running, sweetheart. Let me be there for you”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you reached up to place your hand over his. “I don’t want to be alone, not anymore.”

Bucky’s face softened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, the steady beat of his heart grounding you.

“You’ll never be alone,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Not as long as I’m here”

You squeezed him tighter, feeling the weight of your fears slowly melt away in his embrace. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you didn’t have to carry everything on your own.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his eyes filled with so much warmth it made your heart flutter. “Anytime, doll. You’re stuck with me now.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you, the tension between you both easing as his lips curled into a playful smile. “Good, I think I like being stuck with you.”

Bucky chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, your lips. It was soft and gentle, like he was afraid of breaking the moment, but it sent warmth flooding through your body.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a soft whisper. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart soared at his words, and you smiled up at him, finally allowing yourself to let go of all the fear and doubt. “I love you too, Bucky…. More than you’ll ever know.”

Bucky’s eyes shone with affection, and he kissed you again, this time deeper, more passionate. The world around you faded away, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

In his arms, you weren’t broken, you weren’t alone. You were whole. And that was more than enough.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky fic #bucky barnes fluff #fluffy bucky barnes x reader

284 notes · View notes

aresthelostboy · 1 year ago

Text

Yautja X Male!Scientist!Reader

[I’m using Wolf as the Yautja and this doesn’t follow the story in any way. If any facts are wrong, ignore it because I last watched the predator films at least three years ago. Can be read as GN!Reader.]

Summary: When the group of Yautja boarded your crews ship amongst the many stars of Galactica Primara, it was intended as a visit of a coming assistance. Gathered in the mess hall, partially converted for your human captain to present to the Yautja, he speaks of testing new subjects. They’re interested, so you get a visit, though you aren’t too worried. That is, until you realise just how attracted to one in particular you are…

You sigh, eyes closing for a moment as bitter disappointment sighs on you. The movements on the slide to the microscopes had slowly stopped and you find yourself reaching for the tape recorder once more. The rubber gloves squeaking against its plastic, you speak close to the microphone, an edge to your voice that follows a wasted sample.

“Test subject B57: Failed. Presumable death over the temperature and humidity. Resuming tests at 0800 hours on Friday 13, April, 2029. This is (y/n) signing out.”

You place the recorder down and, grabbing each edge of the gloves, you strip them from your skin and place them in the nearly overflowing bin beside you. Taking a few minutes to discard of the sample and disinfect everything, you look at your work station, slightly less annoyed now that it’s clean and tidy.

A loud beep sounds out, making you jump for a moment before you realise that it’s your personal communication cell that’s alerting you to an incoming message. Soon enough, the face of your second in command appears, as stern as ever. A grin tugs at your face, always tempted to rile up the easily angered man. It’s just too funny. Yet, today, he seems in brighter spirits so you wait to hear what he has to tell you.

“Ah Dr. (L/n)… finally. The message to the Yautja tribe was successful and their ship is inbound, ETA 3 minutes.”

You can’t help the genuine smile that pulls at your lips, knowing that it was a long-awaited meeting that had every higher up in floods of excitement.

“Congrats. If you need anything, you know I’ll be here. I’d rather stay out of the way and let you all deal with this,”

You gesture vaguely.

“and I’ll start a few other tests. B57 was a failure so I’ll be moving to C14 and going back to B tomorrow.”

All he does is nod before someone seems to shout him, his head snapping in the other direction before giving you a quick nod. Before you know it, the comms have been severed and you are left alone once more. Shrugging, it’s soon realised that the alien tribe must have arrived and you understand that they’re much more important than a time-wasting conversation.

Removing another pair of gloves from the packet, you put them on and ready up a new sample of an unknown organism, readying your scalpels and tweezers in order to soon pick apart the cell matter and individually study it. Placing the microphone of your recorder up to your mouth, you press at the button on the side. “Subject C14 test begins. Friday 12, April 2029. Time is currently 5:46pm.”

You don’t know how long has passed, only that the number of unseen messages from your commander on your comms has grown over the time. Only once the new source of matter has failed, as you had expected, you find yourself looking through the ignored remarks.

‘They want to look through your lab, is that alright?’ 5:59pm

‘Hello?’ 6:12pm

‘Y/n, they’re curious about the tests you do. Please?’ 6:17pm

Wincing while you read them, you deftly remove your gloves and shoot a response back hoping that, over the course of 39 minutes, you hadn’t majorly screwed up.

‘Should’ve called, was busy with tests. You can come by now if you’d like?’

Deciding to wait for the response, you don’t receive one, even after you’ve seen that he had read it. Once this is noticed, your heart rate increases, realising that speaking to your superior in such a way may not be the smartest idea. That is, until, there’s a knock at your door.

(A steel door that was only provided after you threw a fit about having dangerous subjects in an easily contaminated space. The crew didn’t care about the tests or the safety, they just wanted you to leave them alone so you finally got what you wanted.)

After checking yourself over, smoothing down your lab coat and making sure your hair wasn’t askew, your hand finds the automated doorway and it opens.

For all of your mind, the wish that you could’ve hid your reaction is high. Seeing a Yautja in a dark grey mask shouldn’t affect you in such a way, and you definitely shouldn’t be thinking what you are… The way your eyes widen slightly, not from fear but from curiosity and the way your breath catches in your throat, something they could definitely hear… it makes you flush slightly. Taking a breath, you look at your commander, nodding slightly before turning to the Yautja. Dark grey mask watches you with a tilted head and once it notices your gaze on it, his head snaps to look in the other direction.

Never had you believed an alien race to show such a predominantly human trait as embarrassment. It’s almost… cute? Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the thoughts and focus on the three in front of you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I assume you have translators?”

The largest one nods, it’s mask a light, titanium coloured grey and you smile slightly, hovering in the doorway. There’s one beside him, looking away and down, his posture slanted as if not wanting to be notice, this one’s mask is a darker grey. The others mask is black. These men… these creatures, surely they know basic rules of a lab. You sigh, shaking your head and addressing each one in turn.

“Please, don’t touch anything. And if your curious, ask. I’m Y/n, by the way.”

Flashing a smile at the unknown aliens seems out of place but you do so anyway, stepping back and allowing them into your space. One of them stops at the doorway, a darker grey mask on, watching you with great interest. A few clicks and trills catch your attention but, as the others don’t react, you don’t either. You watch back, curious as to who will break the eye contact first. He - would it be right to call it a he? - tilts his head slightly before stepping into the lab, following the others. It takes you a moment to notice your commander left but, oddly enough, you felt safe with the Yautja group. A few sharp clicks grab your attention and you turn to the light grey masked one, wondering about it’s attention grabbing sounds.

“This?”

A raspy and distorted voice comes from the mask, the creature pointing at one of your experiments. You can’t help the appreciation that paints your face as you step over, closer than most humans would feel comfortable, and begin explaining the intricacies. Throughout your speech, you feel eyes on you and, as you are seeing two of them looking at your experiments, there’s only one left to be doing so. Without breaking sentence, you turn to look at him and grin as you see him whip his head away in a tense, feigned interest in a sheet of paper… a blank sheet of paper. A slight laugh escapes you, only for him to look back, shoulders visibly dropping into relaxation. A quick smile is flashed his way and, believing you could trust the Yautja, you turn your back to continue your explanation.

You’d barely finished explaining what each component did, the two Yautja painfully invested in your words, when a quiet screech echoes through the metal room. The three of you turn to the last of their group, a hand in front of their greyed mask and a light green blood like substance sliding from their finger. Your frown, walking over quickly and finding he had touched one of the alien blades you had been studying earlier. “Are you alright?”

You can’t disguise the concern in your voice as you walk over, hesitating to touch him. Though, when he doesn’t pull away, you gently take his hand and inspect the wound. Hearing a few clicks and trills no longer bothers you, understanding it’s the same as humans humming or making basic noise. You look up at him, noticing that he hadn’t followed your one rule and has touched something. Shaking your head, the Yautja stills, watching you with interest.

“Silly Yautja.”

Though the words are said with amusement, there’s an underlying tone of worry and care. It makes the yautjas stare and stand as if petrified by Medusa herself. You continue to mutter to yourself, finding a bandage and wrapping up the bleeding cut. He tilts his head as you do so and when your ministration have been completed, he flexes his hand, only to look at you with a deep interest.

“Wolf.”

The deep growl comes from the one in front of you and you can easily tell what he had said. Though in the context it confused you.

“Sorry?”

It gestures to itself, repeating the word. After a moment you nod, smiling softly.

“Wolf? That’s your name?”

He nods, hesitating for a mere moment before tapping his bandage then on your chest, where your heart should be. It was easy enough to guess what he had meant, knowing that the courtesy of thanks had been passed throughout the galaxy. Smiling at him, you nod, tapping your own chest then his in turn. This seems to make him rumble quietly, an appreciative sound that vibrates through your bones as you touch his skin gently.

A quiet hum comes from behind and you jump, realising that you had enacted such an intimate (to their species, at least) moment in front of his clan mates. A light flush takes over your face as you pull away but Wolf lightly places his hands over yours, keeping you skin to skin with him. You bow your head slightly, aware that in may alien species, it was a sign of respect. It seems to be accurate as he gives another quiet rumble.

You find yourself wanting to hear that more and you stop yourself in your tracks. How could you fall for an alien race? It just wasn’t normal and shouldn’t happen… but he is cute. And you just know that behind the mask, he’ll still be better than the humans on this ship.

“Y/n.”

At the direct address, your head snaps up and you pull away from Wolf, much to the Yautjas displeasure. Your captain stands in the doorway, a slightly confused expression present yet he seems to shrug it off quickly.

“Whatever. The others say it’s time to leave and they are gathering in the common. So say goodbye to your… acquaintances.”

He watches you for a moment more and walks off, shaking his head with an amused chuckle. Turning away, you look back to the three Yautja and smile.

“I’ll walk you back?”

All eyes are on Wolf as he nods and clicks quietly, head tilted. The other two lead ahead and you walk with him, watching as he barely makes a sound, the hunter genes shining through. It interests you and, as your gaze becomes more focused, his body becomes more tense.

“You’re beautiful.”

You speak as if reading off facts from a list, stating it in such an obvious way that his mind stutterers for a second, causing his head to snap to your gaze in such a way that you don’t need to see him to wonder what he’s thinking.

“I mean, I love your mask and I can’t help but wonder what’s behind it. I bet you look cool. And your skin is gorgeous, like a snake, not to mention these claws!”

Your hand is in his, bringing them both up so you can trace a gentle finger across each of his sharp talons. He doesn’t pull away, relishing in the contact of such soft, warm skin and in such an innocently romantic way. Your eyes meet the ones of his mask and they shine, a bright smile filling your face.

“I hope we can communicate soon. Perhaps you all wish to come back and look around some more?”

The two of you are stood in the lobby, the other Yautja waiting by the ships entrance for him with a few warning growls and clicks following. Wolf nods, tapping his heart with his free hand and then tapping over yours. Though you don’t speak in such a language, you understand the meaning well enough, given the context. As you,let go of him, a sad smile paints your face.

“I hope you all return safely. We will welcome you back soon. Goodbye.”

The doors shut and you hold onto the fact he looked at you till the very last moment, you hold it with all your heart.

When you get back to your lab, you begin to tidy away the papers and left over rubbish that you had forgotten to put away only for something to catch your eye. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something as a… gift?

A pristine, off-white skull of a seemingly alien creature had been positioned carefully on the side of your desk and you find yourself smiling as you realise that was where Wolf had been stood. Though you had never been in contact with the race before, the message of such a gift was clear enough and you find yourself awaiting the next visit.

As for the skull, you place it on your emptied ledge over your desk. After all, there had to be plenty of space for the rest of the courting gifts, right?

#Predator #predator x reader #yautja x reader #yautja x male reader #yautja x human #predator x human #predator x male reader #x male reader #reader #male reader #x reader

818 notes · View notes

thevoidstaredback · 5 months ago

Text

At exactly three in the afternoon, New Jersey time, the next day, Batman and Robin took the Zeta Tube up to the Watchtower to gather the waiting heroes for their promised tour of the Batcave.

Jason and Barbra were set up in the clocktower, watching the cameras Tim had set up the night before to record everything. Dick was at the Batcomputer, watching for alerts in case anyone decided to cut their fun short. Stephanie and Cass were on standby in the Manor with Alfred, setting up a movie night to watch the recordings before they were to head down to the Cave to interchangeably play Spoiler. Duke and Tim were both in the Cave, hidden in the rafters in their stealth suits. Kate and Selina had both agreed to help mess with the Justice League, neither actually knowing their identities, and were patrolling Gotham in place of Duke while they waited for part two of the plan.

The plan was set as follows, with room for improv and any missteps: -Batman and Robin gather the heroes from the Watchtower and bring them down to the Batcave -Nightwing meets them and joins in on the tour -Oracle calls Nightwing away for an emergency in Bludhaven -Batwoman would then call Batman away to help out against Red Hood in Crime Alley (that was so that they'd all keep thinking that Red Hood and Batman were still on bad terms. all the better to surprise Wonder Woman when she came to the Manor for the gala) -Steph, as Spoiler, would enter the Cave via the Lane and join Robin and the JL for a tour. She and Cass would then switch out at random intervals, basically gaslighting everyone - especially Superman - into thinking they're the same person -Nightwing and Batman would met up at the Clocktower to switch costumes. Dick becomes Batman while Jason and Bruce go to the Manor in civvies to show that they're under a residence -Duke and Tim, meanwhile, move things around the Cave as they please. At some point, Tim and Damian switch out, but don't acknowledge the switch -NightBat (Nightwing as Batman) comes back to the Cave, sending Steph and Cass back out and to the Manor in civvies, and Duke goes to take over for Batwoman and Catwoman -NightBat and Bruce meet in the locker rooms, while Red Robin distracts the JL, to change back into Batman and Nightwing -Batman rejoins the JL and RR while Nightwing goes back to get his bike and reenter the Cave via the Lane -Robin switches out with Red Robin who resets the Cave, putting everything back in its place as quickly as he can without being noticed -Nightwing comes back -Oracle calls out an emergency at the GCPD -The JL leave

Obviously, they all had comms in and were listening in on everything.

"Exactly on time." Green Arrow nods as Batman and Robin step out of the Zeta Tubes.

Wonder Woman smiles, "How are you doing today, Robin?"

Robin nods to her. "I am well, thank you. And yourself?"

"I am as well as I can be."

"That's good."

The group stands in place for a moment, Batman and Robin doing nothing to alleviate the nervous energy of the heroes in front of them. Eventually, it's Flash who breaks.

"Well, look at the time!" the speedster claps his hand together, "We don't want to be late, right?"

Superman nods in agreement. "Yeah." He turns to the two Gotham vigilantes, "Lead the way."

Batman nods and turns to put the coordinates for the Cave into the computer, authorizing the heroes to access the Batcave just this once. He motions to the Zeta Tubes and Robin steps in. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter, Green Lantern, Flash, Cyborg, and Aquaman all take turns to follow him. Batman goes last.

Once in the Cave, the Gotham vigilantes allowed the Justice League heroes a few minutes to gawk. The cavern they were in was nothing special. It was a branch off from near the outskirts of the Cave, far enough away to stop any intruders that somehow got passed the Zeta security, but close enough that it only took a few minutes to reach the main cave. There were three Zeta Tubes set up in the small area with a security desk and computer to arm or disable any traps. A matching desk sat at the other end of the trapped hallway.

Entering the main area of the Cave, the JL took another few minutes to drink in the sight. Batman and Robin allowed them to. Nightwing didn't turn his chair yet, waiting for th perfect moment to announce himself.

"Is that- Why do you have a dinosaur in here?" Flash asked, having done a double take at the sight. The others join him.

Nightwing took the cue and spun the Batchair around dramatically. "To eat intruders."

The heroes turned to him as one unit, Lantern, Flash, Aquaman, and Cyborg openly gawking at the Batcomputer.

"Nightwing," Wonder Woman greeted, "It's good to see you."

"What the hell!" Cyborg cut in, holding himself back from running to the computer, though he speed-walked up to it. "It's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" Nightwing smirked, "B built her all by himself. The monitors are all TVs, custom wired to fit the frameless design."

"All seven?" Aquaman asked.

Nightwing nodded. "Yep! And the computer itself was custom, too! I helped with that, actually. It used to be a combination of three computers connected to the monitors, but I helped him condens it down to one shell connected to all seven monitors. RR keeps up the maintenance, though."

Green Arrow and Green Lantern also walked up to the desk. "It's an impressive display," Arrow said, "How long did it take?" He directed the question to Batman who joined the group, the rest coming up behind him.

"Three years and two months," the vigilante answered, "Two years to get everything together and wired properly. Another two months after Nightwing joined me as Robin to condense the three computers into one shell. A year to get everything coded and the firewalls up. As technology changes and programing gets better, so does the Batcomputer. She's intelligent all on her own, but RR and O are working on an AI for her."

"Who's-" Green Lantern was cut off by an alarm on the upper-most left monitor.

"Batcave, this is Oracle." she said, her voice coming through all the speakers in the Cave.

"Go ahead, O," Nightwing turned his chair back to face the computer, his hands flying between the three keyboards as he pulled up what the alarm was for .

"There's a problem in Bludhaven, 'wing, how fast can you be there?"

He pulled up a map of his home turf, seeing the false alarm at the BHPD. Though, what the Justice League didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "The bank on main, right?"

"That's the one."

"I'll be there in twenty tops."

"Alright."

Nightwing pushed the chair back, turning it and standing in one swift motion. Quickly, he made his way to where his bike was parked in the garage on the lower level of the Cave.

"Comms with Oracle," Batman ordered.

"As always!" he called back, pulling his helmet on before quickly peeling out of the Cave.

It was quiet as the sounds of the motorcycle faded out into the renovated cave system beneath the Crime Capital of the Country.

"Should we..." Martian Manhunter started, "Does he need help?"

Robin scoff lightly. "He will be fine. If he could not handle a minor bank robbery by himself, he would have died before transferring his mantle of Robin onto the next."

"Oh?" Aquaman turned his full attention to the child, "Who took the name after Nightwing?"

Robin didn't answer. Instead, he pointed to the dinosaur. "Our old costumes are kept on display downstairs by the penny. Would you like to see them?"

Wonder Woman, only falling second to Batman when children are involved, nodded. "Would you show the way?"

"Naturally." Taking the lead, Robin lead the group of heroes down the stairs and to the lower part of the Cave.

The upper, main, part of the Cave held the Batcomputer, the main entrances to the Manor, the Zeta Tubes, the lab, the meeting table, and the small med bay. The lower bar of the Cave was home to the training room, the displays, the large med bay, the Vault, the Batplane, and the garage.

"You really leaned into the whole gimmick, huh?" Superman nudged Batman with his elbow.

Cyborg watched him from the corner of his eye. "What do ya mean?"

The kryptonian pointed up. "There's about two hundred bats hanging up on the ceiling.

Flash flinched in on himself. "What?"

"This was their home before I took my name," Batman explained shortly.

Another alarm went off before anyone else could speak, though it was from Batman's gauntlet. He stepped away from the group knowing fully that they all could still hear.

"Hey, B!" Batwoman greeted, a smile evident in her voice.

"Batwoman," he responded. He hid his amusement as his coworkers stared at him in shock. "What's wrong."

"You remember Red Hood, right?"

"Obviously."

"Well, I've gotten into a bit of a pickle."

Batman cut her off with a sigh. "Send your coordinates, I'm on my way."

"Fantastic! Bring your grapple!" Then, she hund up.

"Is this a bad day?" Green Lantern asked, "We can leave and come back another day."

"Don't be ridiculous." Robin scolded, "I am more than capable of showing you around the Cave alone." He turned to his father, "Give Batwoman my greetings."

Batman grunted as he got into the Batmobile. Swiftly, he closed the door, turned the engine, and left the Cave.

Part 4 Part 6

233 notes · View notes

frostbitebakery · 6 months ago

Text

Nutshell.

“Let’s put you out of your misery,” Doom says, checking the charge on his blasters while keeping an eye on the stray droid crawling towards an abandoned E-5 rifle.

“You’re mine,” Doom grits out, gets his fingers around the leg of the droid making for General Tiplar. He pulls, rolls. The droid is on his chest and he clamps an arm around it, sinks his knife into its neck. Wipes the blood out of his eyes.

“I need answers,” Doom says, arms crossed so he doesn’t try to strangle the holo. “See that you get them.”

“I will get them,” Rex promises, voice stoic to resemble a Commander’s.

Doom doesn’t snort but it’s a close call.

“I’m sorry for your lo—“

He flicks the comm off. He doesn’t have the capacity for niceties.

Tiplee is slowly finishing the transport box for her sister. “We fought a lot growing up,” she says. “We were in separate crèche clans even.”

His jaw ticks under his bucket.

“We only grew close once we were both adults. People are in motion, always. In body, in spirit. Sometimes you are only meant to meet at later points in your life even if you’ve known each other since you were born.” She strokes a careful hand over Tiplar’s forehead. “I will let you say your goodbyes.”

Doom steps up to the box once Tiplee is gone.

Tiplar hasn’t gone grey yet. There’s a furrow burnt in her brows, the confusion over a clone shooting her carrying her to death.

“I will watch over her,” he states. Promises don’t mean anything in war. So he doesn’t promise. His heart skips a beat. He was meant to watch over Tiplar as well.

“Botany,” he slurs out, clinks his cup to Tiplee’s when she holds hers up. “I love sunshine. And plants. There’s so many!”

“I’m gonna,” she hiccups, booze sloshing over the rim of her cup when she points at him, “I’m gonna sneak you into the gardens in the Temple and show you the strawberry patch.”

“Sneak?” He thought everything in the Triple Zero Temple is free to roam for all Jedi.

“Totally,” Tiplee agrees with an enthusiastic nod and he realizes he’s spoken aloud. “But sneaking is funnierer— funner— funyun?”

He nods right back. “Funyun sounds right.”

“What do you mean, poisoned?” Doom asks. According to survival sim training, the strawberries look pretty unpoisoned.

Tiplee holds up a berry, turns it around a bit. “The Dark is ever growing. Spreading throughout the Galaxy, into the earth of every planet. It has changed the very matter of things.” She smiles up at him. “I remember them sweeter.”

“I will help your strawberries be the best they can be, I— promise.” He wretches the word out of himself. Pulls and pulls until it’s off his tongue and out in the open. “Hold on until then, yes?”

Tiplee smiles at him, taps her thumb against his temple. “Doom, you have found a place where you feel you are meant to be. It will be alright even if my time has come.”

“Uhm,” he says. Blinks. Swallows.

Maxir leans back, hands disappearing into the robe sleeves. “I’ve read this wrong?”

Probably not? “I don’t know,” he almost says until instinct takes over to not show indecisiveness. “Yes.”

Maxir’s face colors. He doesn’t tend to get cute blush spots high on his cheeks but rather an all consuming flush that looks close to blistering. “I’m sorry. I misjudged. It will not happen again.”

Jedi are so graceful in their apologies, Doom has learned. It’s charming.

He holds up a ripe non-perfect strawberry. “You look like this.”

“I beg your pardon—“

“You’re safe,” Doom gasps, wildly looking at Maxir’s frozen figure. “You’re safe.”

“Come here. Sit down.”

The calm authority in Maxir’s voice has him on his feet and back on the ground before he knows it.

“You are safe,” Maxir reassures him for whatever reason, filling Doom’s spotty vision and leaving room for not much else. “May I touch you?”

It’s a new helper droid. Gangly limbs for reaching deep into the foliage without damaging it. Looking like a B-1. The clippers looking like a blaster.

Its head lies halfway across another crop’s field. The body stabbed with its own limbs and the clippers.

“You are safe.”

Doom doesn’t believe him yet.

“I don’t recognize you anymore,” Doom says to his reflection.

There’s laughter lines around his eyes, his mouth. He has freckles from the sun. Permanent dirt under his nails he recognizes as dirt, not blood. His body is covered in flowers.

Last night he met up with the last of the 962nd and Master Tiplee. Six, Mimic, and a few others had helped him haul around the huge crates of produce into the AgriCorps’ building and kitchen.

They’d blasted each other’s asses while peeling, tasting, cooking, and fighting over seasoning. They fell asleep under the stars, occupying chairs and hammocks dotting the terraces. Tiplee had drooled on his shoulder, the tips of her fingers still red with strawberry juice.

“I don’t recognize you anymore.”

“Mrnng,” Maxir mumbles, slowly shuffling his way past Doom to the shower.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Doom says to his reflection.

“No,” Doom murmurs, wrings his shoulder against the doorframe to Maxir’s office.

The desk is cluttered with data pads and flimsiwork bearing the AgriCorps seal. Analyzing crop conditions and rotations has taken up most of what is left of their day after tending to the fields and labs.

Maxir looks at him over his glasses before pushing them up, ruffling the short hair just under one of the horns. “No? I surely thought there was caf left…”

Doom pushes himself away from the door, takes the three steps to the desk before sitting down on a free-ish spot. “No, you didn’t read it wrong,” he non-explains. “Also, for safety reasons I disposed of the last of the caf.”

Maxir glances at the clock above the desk. “It’s been five hours. The sludge level must still be within reason.”

Doom blinks blandly at him.

Maxir blinks back before it visibly clicks. “Oh!” He buffs the back of his hand against Doom’s thigh. “I told you I’m nearly always right. Also,” he parrots back with a mischievous grin, “the fact we’ve kissed and held hands and you let me dote on you—“

“Excessively.”

“Excessively,” Maxir agrees. “I broke all constraints when I bought you last meal that one time.”

Doom pushes Maxir away from him by way of the rolling chair he’s sitting in while Maxir recalls in detail and with a lot of hand gestures how Doom had gracefully accepted being cared for.

“Or when you let me clean all the petri dishes by myself,” Maxir says excitedly, seat slowly spinning in a circle. “You were snoring so adorably on the lab bench.”

“I regret meeting you.”

“Mimir shoo for half the night cycle!” The chair slowly rotates back towards Doom. Maxir’s eyes soften. “I, for one, am very glad we met when we did.”

WIP and backstory

#commander doom #star wars #star wars tcw #star wars fanart #commander doomxoc #<- sorry about that #my art #frostbitebakery art

319 notes · View notes

mawofthemagnetar · 11 months ago

Text

Father's Day

“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”

“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”

Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.

“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”

“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.

“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”

Iskall rubbed his temples.

“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“

“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”

“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”

Jevin glanced up from his comm.

“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”

Iskall rubbed his forehead.

“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”

They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.

“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“

“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?”

Jevin waved a hand.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!”

And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished.

Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre.

He tapped it, and vanished.

When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together.

Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground.

“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.

Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family.

Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall.

“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!”

Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing.

He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.

“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.

“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!”

“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered.

“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged.

“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.

“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged.

He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids.

Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.

#magnetar writes #Jevin Fic #Iskall fic #I've had this thing in my documents for about half a year and I finally polished it up #I hope you enjoy

553 notes · View notes

solar4seekstron · 21 days ago

Text

Transformers One x Reader: Awakening Chapter Five

Chapter Five: I’m Done Saving You

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Six

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

TW/Tags: non? Based on the title you already know what’s coming. Good luck nerds.

(Chapter 5 is finally here and I’m pretty excited for this one. Sadly there is much to add for Elita and reader so most likely in the next chapter. Sorry guys the movie isn’t making it any easier for me or just can’t think of any that doesn’t ruin the movie too much. I was dreading to type in the scene where D. Shoots Orion and it didn’t feel right to add in the expressions of Y/N, Elita and B because that moment is for D-16 and Orion in my opinion. Oh boy the next chapter is gonna hurt but I want to make y’all happy so here we go.)

(The next chapter will be the last one and then 5 bonus endings after)

*At Iacon City-

Y/N was about to sneak into the city the same way the gaurds were able to. Paying o mind if others see them as they fly in their alt mode. Landing in an alley between buildings. The view clear of sentinels tower. They would then look around and say. The bots they once saw to be taller then them was now around the Sam seize as them having a cog now. They would let out a sigh and then walk out making their eye to the tower. Knowing if they were in their alt mode. They would be questioned. But as they walked passing the road and walking on the side walk as they walked around. Seeing that there’s an alleyway that seems to lead to the tower sooner. They. Go down that path. As they walk someone then grabs their hand. Causing them to quickly turn around pin the person against the wall.

”Woah easy there friend I just wanted to tell- Y/N” It was Deadlock

”Lo- uh sorry you got me confused with someone else.”

They would then try to leave but deadlock would grab their wrist and pull them back and turns them around putting his had on their shoulder.

“Y/N it is you! But. But you have a cog!” Y/N was just 5 inches shorter then him now.

”Uh yeah I should really get going.” Deadlock would rests his hand on their hip as he looked at them. They would place their hands on his shoulders to try to create some distance

”Y/N where have you been and how do you have a cog. Come on lets catch up.”

”Deadlock I would love to but I must go. My friend is possibly in danger and I should go make sure they’re safe.” Deadlock looks almost disappointed. Then over the comm its heard his boss is calling for him. He then sighs

”Fine but seeing that you have a cog now. Come by the club and we can catch up.”

”Will do Deadlock now I must go. Good to see you friend.” They pat his shoulders as he finally out his hands off them. Watching as they leave before turning around to head to work

Y/N continues to walk to the tower then once seeing the security they come up with an idea remembering what sentinel said the day of the race. They would then go up to the two guards

”Heeeey guys name’s Y/N sentinel said he was expecting me?” The two gaurds look at eachother then at them. Nodding then letting them in after giving them directions to the personal quarter sentinel told them to tell you to go to

Y/N would then walk in able to go through a door to the others sneaking around trying to find the room while also being quiet. Soon they would peak through a door and see D-16, B-127, and the other guards on their knees and their hands tied behind their back as sentinel walks past them in a line speaking an d having his average smirk on his face

“I don’t understand. Why are we still alive?”

“Look at this rowdy bunch. The High Guard. You know you guys have been tough to find. Every trip to the surface I have been searching for you.”

“Tracking the bots in the cave led me right to them.”

“You captured Starscream.”

“It was too easy.”

“I’m going to rip you apart piece by piece and that your death is painful and you’ll regret the day you”

“You sound ridiculous. It’s weird. Oh D-16 what a tragic story you’ll be. Atop the leaderboard in your sector. Secretly a traitor.”

“I’m not the traitor. You’re the traitor.’

“Nuh-uh. You. All of you are traitors. You’ve been working with the Quintessons to sabotage atoge my expeditions You’re the reason I haven’t found the matrix of leadership yet.”

“None of that is true!”

“Oh trust me all of that will be very true when I am executing you in front of all of Iacon because down here the truth is what I make it.”

Sentinel would get into Bs face before D would take a step.

“Well well. What’s this about?”

“I’m not kneeling in front of you.”

“Feeling confident are we?”

“You dont scare me. You wanna know why?”

“Please.”

“Because I don't anything else left to lose. You took it all.”

“I sure did.”

Sentinel would then punch D.

“Ah megatronus prime. Of course you are a fan. Megatronus was the coolest prime! The biggest. The Baddest. The Toughest! That's why after I killed him. I took his cog for myself.”

“He was greater than you’ll ever be!”

“I don’t know I’m pretty great but I can understand why you would wanna wear his face over mine. Here, lets make sure it doesn’t come off.”

Sentinel would put the sticker back then starts engraving the deception insignia into his chest. The others only able to watch. Y/N knows that they have seen enough and without a second thought they open the door and as the others were about to notice in a moment Y/N was running pulled out their blade. Putting the blade against his neck catching him by surprise. The gaurds and airachnid pointing her guns at them

“Shoot me and he dies!”

“Ahh Y/N I see you have a cog as well-“

“Shut up! Sentinel prime is it true you did it all for power…Is it?!” Sentinel then scoffs

”Well of course. Any Prim-“

”You are no prime! And I swear in the memory and honor of my friends…to B and D I’ll-“ Then Y/N is shot on their side by one of the guard causing them to fall onto their knees as sentinel stands before them.

”Well isn’t this just a shame. You know I was pretty excited to work with you. Of course it not including the two miners you so cared for. Maybe there is use for you seeing that you’re all about honor. And you’re not labeled dead yet by the public.” Y/N still on the ground. The bullet almost through their waist almost to the center

”We’ll be sure the best doctor of Iacon will take care of that wound” He would then grab their chin making their face look up fullly facing him after he took a knee. he then snaps his fingers. Two guards walking and grabbing them by the arms picking them up.

”Make sure they’re well taken care of” Y/N was then dragged and taken towards the door they cam from.

*Orion-

“Ooookaaay. I-I can do this.”

*At the mines-

“You can’t be serious. We just worked 22 shifts without a break. These miners need rest and time to repair.”

“Sentinel Prime wants more energon. So get back into the mines! Before I make you go back in-“

“Is that-“

“Orion?”

“Jazz.”

“Is that really you?”

“Yeah I know I uh- look a little different.”

“Little? There’s nothing little about you.”

“How is this possible?”

“Sentinel told us you died from your race injuries.”

“Sentinel is a lair. Look, I know sounds coming from me. I was never the most focused. Miner but as you can see everything’s different now.”

“I went to the surface. And I learned the truth. My friends. We were all born with transformation cogs. And then sentinel. He stole them from us! He took away our ability to make our own decisions. He stole our freedom. But now I’m offering you your first real choice. You can work a twenty-third shift and mine yourself to death. Or fight back against sentinel with me. Right now.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

“We can’t fight. We don’t have cogs.”

“What defines a transformer is not the cog in its chest but the spark that resides in their core. A spark that gives you the will to make your world better and that spark sentinel can never take from us.”

“There’s not enough of us. We need an army.”

“And we have one. Elita is bringing troops. We are not alone in this. If we want to be in control of our own destiny we will have to fight for it. Now is the time for us to stand up. For ourselves! Stand up for this injustice. I promise you this fight will be worth it. Follow me! Nothing can stop us when we stand together. Together as one.”

“Elita it’s time.”

“You got it. Buckle up blinky. We’re going in.”

Back to the others D heard everything sentinel and Y/N said. Hearing the guards take Y/N away as they groan in pain. He the tried to stand up again.

“Not a good idea.”

“D stay down.”

D would stand up once more

“Well that’s a shame. You really were a great miner.”

”D! Run!….”

Sentinel points his blaster at D as D watches. Waiting.

“We’ve got a breach! Protect Sentinel!” A guard would hit D to fall back again as another would join them to protecting sentinel. Y/N was still carried away. Now further from where the direction the train was heading as the guards noticed

“Ok they spotted us. It’s about to get bumpy.”

“High Guard. Eject.”

“There’s too many! We have to abort.”

“We’re not going to make it.”

From there many miners with jet packs fly up and start fighting sentinels guards. Helping the others

“Lets break some protocol.”

“That’s what I’m talking about Pax!”

Pax was then attacked against the front of the train by Airachnid

“Ooooh that’s intense.”

“You can’t win miner! I see everything!”

“That’s right you do! Except the tower we’re about to crash into.”

Orion would then kick Airachnid off him. Hitting the window with his elbow breaking it to get in and the train soon hits the tower. Hitting Sentinel

(HE DID THE POSE FHGFGJFGVUDKKYKUCFKUVU)

“Hey!”

“What has he done to you?!”

“This is nothing! Compared to what I’m going to do to sentinel.”

”Y/N!!” The guards have left leaving them on the floor. They would then stand up and put a sort fo tissue over their bullet hole. Something ratchet gave them before. They would make their way to the two limping a bit. Orion going up to them

”I’m fine. We need to stop sentinel.” They say as they look at Orion and D. D unable to take his eyes off the energon coming of them as Orion does the same

“Soundwave, free the prisoners.”

“I know how to stop him. Airachnid is the answer-“

“I’m doing this my way!”

“D!”

“Yes! Woah! I got a battle mask. Elita! Battle mask! It appeared when this guy tried to- Knife hands? I have knife hands! Haha! Baddassatron!”

“Where’s sentinel?!”

There was then an explosion causing D, Y/N and Orion to fall forward. They would then hide behind some rocks as they then hear sentinel

“You pathetic little twits. Did you really think you can knock down everything that I have built?!”

“It’s over sentinel! You can’t escape the truth!”

“What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off the Quintessons and live like a king. None of that matters! Because the truth is what I make it!”

“In coming!”

D and sentinel will then have their own fight as the three try to think of a plan

“He’s too strong!”

“I have a plan. We need Airachnid.”

“Airachnid?!”

”Are you crazy?!

“We need her memory.”

“Where is she?!”

Elita was tackled by Airachnid

“Found her!”

“Elita. Do not break her. Bring her to the broadcast station. We'll meet you there.”

“Easier said than done!”

“I said don't break her!”

“Relax I’m being. Very. Gentle!”

“Orion! Orion look! Knife hands!”

“I can see that!”

”Yeah Bee!!” They then show their sword blades they picked up earlier showing they glow as well. B then cheers excited

“I’m gonna cut these guys watch! Come here!”

“You can jab them later!”

“GO! I’ll stay here and help D!”

”All right b careful!”

“Yeah!”

The three make thier way to the other tower. D and sentinel continueing to fight eachother. Y/N staying behind and joining the fight with D

“Um. E-excuse me, you can’t be in here.”

B then starts destroying the place

“B. These are not the ad guys.”

“Why did you cut the door?”

“What? No I didn’t cu- I didn’t- uh that wasn’t- I didn’t- it was ready like that. Right?!”

“Yes that’s right It- it was already like- yeah-was already like that.”

Orion then got to work and Elita made sure Airachnid was on the table her hologram memory showing.

“Attention. Iacon city. Stand by for a live transmission from Sentinel Prime.”

During thre fight D and sentinel keep fighting all ove the room causing more damag. Y/N waits for the right moment and once sentinel was believing he has D. Y/N jumps and transformers their alt mode on its side and spins fast pushing him off D (Think like that scene Megatron does in TF Earthspark to skyward during that big battle scene.) Scratching his paint job as they land right next to D pulling out their blades protective over D.

”D are you alright?!” D stands up and shakes his head a bit trying to stay awake

”This is my fight. Go to-“

”Will you quiet that! You can finish him off after I get a good hi-“

Y/N was then tackled by sentinel being pinned to the ground as they were far enough from D. Y/N would fight him getting a couple good hits and sentinel getting a few more hits on them. After kicking him of them D then side body slams sentinel. Y/N struggling to stand up as D then starts fighting sentinel again. Y/N is badly injured and struggles to stand. When they look up at the two. D is back on the ground and sentinel on top pointing his blaster as him again

“What’s wrong D-16? Rise up!”

“That’s why after I killed him. That’s why after I killed him. I took his cog for myself. Cog for myself. What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off Quintessons and live like a king! What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off Quintessons and live like a king! I’m working my miners as hard as I can. I swear I’ll get you the rest! I’m working my miners as hard as I can. I swear I’ll get you the rest!”

“Lier!”

“We trusted you!”

“Traiter!”

“Pax, we did it!”

After sentinel was distracted Y/N was able to make their way to D. Helping them up while holding their waist where they bleed a bit at. D would stand back up with their help.

”Stay back you helped enough!” He yells at them. Knowing they helped make sentinel get weaker after hitting him with their blades.

“D NO!”

D then charges at him. Causing them both to fall off the tower.

“D!”

The two would fly across the city hitting towers until they eventually land. Y/N would transform as they gain more strength while swirling a bit they’re able to make it but pretty far from the two transforming and is still weak staying on the knees as they watch the two fight. Slowly standing up.

“D-16. We can lead Cybertron together! Don’t have to do this.”

D would walk up to sentinel pointing his canon until Orion runs and jumps D. Stopping him.

“What are you doing?!”

“It’s over D. Everyone in Iacon knows the truth”

“So do I! He took everything from us! I have to do this!”

“No you don’t! Rebuilding Iacon cannot begin with an execution.”

“He deserves to die! Can’t you see that?!”

“We’re better than this. Don’t be like sentinel.”

“Pax. You need to get out of my way before I move you myself.”

“D listen-“

D would punch Orion and kick him further for Orion to stay on the ground. Then walking back to sentinel as sentinel was still on the floor. But Orion soon gets in the way. Orion wa shot shocking D and the others. As Orion was about to fall off the cliff D was able to catch him in time by the wrist

“No. No no no no no. Why..Why did you do that! Why!?”

D would be breathing heavy as so many emotions went through his head.

“D….no”

“I’m done saving you!”

#transformers one #transformers one x reader #orion pax x reader #x reader #d 16 x reader #elita 1 x reader #transformers #transformers x reader #b 127 x reader

95 notes · View notes