#I asked what she meant and she dodged the question and. I’m in a place where. I can’t have this convo without getting hostile unless I let

[toomuchdickfort]

Mini vent rant

[wosoamazing]

Rescue

Barça Femeni x Teen!Reader (Mainly Alexia)

Based off of this request. (And also vaguely off of Lauren Daigle's song - more so just the title, but it kind of under lays the fic I guess.)

WARNINGS: Attempted Sexual Assault References (flack backs), Abusive Father (physical and emotional), drinking/drunk, slight mentions of implied sick (doesn't happen). Let me know if anything else

The team were always suspicious about your home life and what it was actually like but you always brushed them off when they questioned and no one had tried to push further until recently.

“Y/N, we missed you last night, what happened?” Lucy asked you as she walked in, most of the team following behind her.

“Oh, sorry I was going to message but I must’ve forgotten, I felt a little sick so I thought it was best to stay home,” you told them, causing Alexia to move towards you with her hand out, which you dodge, “but I’m fine now,” you smiled at your captain and she gave you a fake smile back.

That was far from the truth but you didn’t want to tell them what happened. You were in your room making some finishing touches before you left to go out with them, when one of your Dad’s friends had walked into your room, you thought you had locked your door but you must’ve forgotten. He walked up behind you and his body was pressed against yours before he slinked his hand up under your dress and brushed his hand over your upper thigh. You snapped around and punched him before you ran, you could hear him yelling at you afterwards, and you Dad yelling at him, but all you could do was run, and to the safe place you knew no one would come looking for you. Thanking the heavens above that Jona somehow gave you a pass that meant you could go to the training grounds at all times. You quickly got changed into your training kit and took off your makeup before setting an alarm on your phone and falling asleep on one of the couches.

That day during treatment you flinched every time one of the physios touched you, and when he moved his hand up to your thigh you felt your body tense up and your breath becoming laboured, when he applied pressure to start working you bolted straight out of the room, the touch bringing back all the feelings from the night before. You found yourself in a room, full of your teammates, who all worried over but when you finally calmed back down they all left except for one, your captain. Who gave you a pointed look as you made contact with her eyes.

“I’m fine” you reiterated to her for probably the 100th time that hour.

“You know you can talk to us anytime, about anything,” Alexia reassured you.

“Si, I do, but I don’t need to because I’m fine,” she gave you a very unconvincing nod before walking out, leaving you to be by yourself. The team knew you weren’t fine. You constantly showed up to training with bruises that were slightly too dark or too big to be caused by whatever your excuse had been that time, but you were clumsy so they never really questioned it. However Alexia had kept a mental note of when they happened and what your excuses were and she couldn't help but see that there was a pattern. Then there was the incident last week when you were calling some of them and your Dad started yelling at you, and calling you names. You tried to convince them that it was because he had tripped over because you had left your boots and bag and other stuff all over the floor which caused him to stub his toe, however they all felt that it was a very poor excuse to yell at your child in such a way but you just brushed them off.

One week later you found yourself laying on a yoga mat in the gym, you were flat on your back as you stared straight up at the ceiling. Alexia had come over and placed a mat down next to yours, she didn't say anything but just laid there next to you on her back, as the team filtered out to go to the pitch for training neither of you made an effort to move. 

Several different thoughts ran through your head as you laid there next to her for quite some time. You were having an internal battle in your head of whether you opened up to her or not, maybe she would help, maybe this wasn’t normal. But maybe she would tell you it was your fault, you had a short dress on that night, that was slightly slutty, were you asking for it? Had you deserved all of it, all the yelling, the hitting.

“He-he, tried to touch me,” you blurted out, one side of the fight winning, your words caused her to bolt straight up, sitting crossed legged on her mat facing you.

“Who did? Your Dad?” she asked.

“No one of his friends,” you said, shaking your head.

“Did he?” she asked, concerned. “No, not really, I mean he put his hand up my dress, he was leaning forward into me and he touched my thigh, but I quickly moved away from him and punched him and ran, while I was running he was saying something about reporting me for hitting him, but I don’t think he did because I could hear Dad saying something about them finding out if he did because the police would show up to the house,” you said as tears started to flow out of your eyes.

“Find what out?” Alexia asked, confused, wondering what had been happening.

“That he abuses me, they would see the holes in the walls from where he would try and punch me but miss, the shattered mirror that I glued back together, it smashed because he threw it at me, but they wouldn’t see the emotional things, they would only see the physical things. The name calling, the swearing, they couldn’t see that, it would be his word against mine,” you continued as your shoulders started to shake as your cries turned into harsh heavy sobs, “I’m sorry,” you cried out as you rolled over onto your stomach, head resting in your arms as a puddle formed on the underneath you.

“Oh Nena,” Alexia sighed as she went to place a hand on your back, “please don’t touch me,” you asked and she obeyed, quickly retracting her arm, “b-but, please, s-stay” you hesitantly asked her. You felt broken, like there was something wrong with you, how didn’t you notice it wasn’t normal. You thought you had a broken home but at the same time, you never spoke about it so maybe everyone had a broken home and just didn’t talk about it, but since being at Barça you slowly started to realise that what was happening in your home wasn’t normal and wasn’t okay, but it was normal to you, to you being called an idiot, or a stupid bitch was normal, being told you were too lazy or not good enough was normal, being scared to take a step in your own home was normal. Constantly living on the edge and not feeling comfortable in your own home was normal. It was normal in your extended family as well, you came from a long line of toxic men, there was no one to show you that what you were experiencing was abnormal, until now. Men drinking until they passed out was normal. Men controlling the house was normal. Women only dated Men, even in a different universe you would never see a Woman dating a Woman in your family. But somehow Barça had shown you this wasn’t normal.

Alexia’s heart ached as she watched sobs rack your body, she just wanted to hold you tight and tell you it would all be okay, but she couldn't. She had to respect your boundaries and give you some control back.

But you soon found yourself sitting in her lap, your body having gravitated to the warmth and safety she seemed to provide. Your hands clutched to her shirt.

“Nena, can I hug you?” She asked not wanting to do anything against your will, you nodded into her chest and she wrapped her arms around you. You suddenly felt safe, cared for, loved, it suddenly all came crashing down, this team loved you, you had never really experienced that before, and you broke down even more. You were now gasping for air as your body shook, Alexia’s concern for you was rapidly growing.

“Nena, I need you to breath, you’re going to make yourself sick,” She told you, “I-I can’t” you told her as you struggled to suck in air, “Yes, you can Nena, just in and out, focus on my chest moving up and now,” you managed to slightly calm down, but it was barely, your were still shaking and your sobs still racked your body, but you were no longer gasping for air. Alexia put her headphones over your ears and made sure to turn on the noise cancelling feature, she needed to call someone for help but didn’t want you to have to listen in, you didn’t mind, you kind of liked the quietness they provided you. She called Mapi.

Mapi, I need you and Ingrid to take me and Nena home now.

[forzalando]

logan + caressing their cheek with their thumb 🥲

hi sweet anon! thank you so much for your request. honestly - i love this fic. i'm just going to start calling all of these fics, they were supposed to be blurbs/drabbles but i'm incapable. anyway. i love this one. so much. i hope you love it too💛 logan + caressing their cheek with their thumb 1.4k words, tw: reader injury (nothing serious, she slips and falls)

“Y/N, hey!” You heard a familiar voice call out.

“Can’t talk, I'm so sorry, have to get to the Williams garage,” you huffed out, sprinting past Yuki as he tried to wave you over to chat.

You turned your head to look ahead of you, dodging and weaving through the masses of people. When you finally saw the familiar logo, you almost sighed in relief, but instead of slowing down you kept charging full speed ahead towards your destination. As soon as your feet hit the garage floor, the texture completely smooth, flat, and entirely different from the rough terrain outside the garage, you went flying.

It almost felt like you were falling in slow motion, papers flying out of your hands and your arms flailing to try to somehow regain your balance. You managed to do something right because instead of slamming straight into the ground face first, you toppled over somewhat gently, your butt hitting the ground first and mostly breaking your fall before you fell onto your side.

You heard someone shout, maybe Alex, but the fall had slightly knocked the wind out of you and left you a bit disoriented. All you focused on was trying to lift yourself up to sit up straight, but you had barely moved before someone helped you the rest of the way there.

“Are you alright?” A muffled voice asked. “Can you hear me?”

Within a few seconds the shock wore off and you were staring straight into a pair of familiar blue eyes. Familiar in the sense that you’d stared at the face these particular eyes belonged to more often than you would ever admit.

You tried to shake your head, shake yourself out of the rest of the daze, but your movement was blocked by a pair of hands grasping your cheeks. Gentle thumbs caressing, Logan’s thumbs, caressing them.

“Are you hurt?” He urged, eyes frantically searching yours.

“No, no, I’m fine, just knocked the wind out of me for a second,” you whispered, the familiar heat of embarrassment creeping its way up your neck. Everyone was staring at you – staring at Logan with your face cradled in his hands like you meant something to him. Something much more than what you were – friends by proximity while you harbored an impossibly large crush on him.

“Can you help me up?” You spoke quickly, reaching up to try to pry his hands from your face. “I have to get these press notes to Alex and prep him, he’s supposed to be in the media pen in ten minutes.”

His hands wouldn’t budge, your fingers grasped around his wrists but doing little to move him any more than a centimeter. “Logan,” you squeezed his wrists tighter, “I’m fine, I promise. Can you please help me?”

Reluctantly, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and grasped one of yours, the other slinging around you to help lift you from the ground. When you began to bend back over to gather your scattered notes, he threw you a look that very obviously meant “don’t you dare”, so you stood still and stared at the floor, trying not to make any contact with the dozens of pairs of eyes still staring at you.

Suddenly, Alex’s voice rang through the garage, prompting everyone to return to their work.

“Ok everyone, show’s over, back to your own business.”

When he was close enough, he took the notes from Logan’s outstretched hand. You weren’t oblivious or blind to Alex’s raised eyebrows and questioning look, but Logan only shook his head and turned towards you. He stepped forward, inserting himself between you and Alex before placing his hand gently back on your cheek. “Will you at least go to medical and get checked out after you’ve prepped him?”

You gasped and coughed in surprise at his request – “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll, um, find you later. Let you know what they say.”

“Ok, good. Good. Thank you. And please don’t ever do that in front of me again, or ever again period, almost gave me a heart attack.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you felt his thumb brush against your cheekbone one last time before he turned and began walking towards his drivers room.

Alex barely had time to open his mouth before you cut him off – “Don’t say a word, Albon.”

“How can you think he doesn’t have feelings for you? Are you kidding me? He bolted towards you when you fell, I’ve never seen him move that fast ever.”

“I said don’t say a word!”

“Fine, if you want to continue to be obtuse, that’s fine. You’re just friends – or what is it you say? Friends by proximity or whatever that means.”

“Yes, he only talks to me because I’m your PR assistant and around you 24/7.”

“I think you might be a lost cause, Y/N.”

“Just be quiet and listen,” you scolded, launching into a review of your notes before sending Alex off to do media. All the stress of trying to make sure you did your job distracted you, and now that Alex was gone, you couldn’t ignore the throbbing pain in your lower back and hip from the fall.

You made your way to medical – slightly limping but you’d deny it if anyone pointed it out. When you got there, you spotted Logan chatting with the physios and jumped back in surprise.

“Hey, you kept your promise.” He smiled at you, a toothy grin and dimples on full display. “I was just – ”

One of the physios interrupted him – “Demanding us to tell you if Y/N didn’t come get checked out?”

You stifled a laugh, your hand covering your mouth. “You worried about me, Sargeant?”

“Yes, I am,” he admitted genuinely, gliding over to you in just a few strides. “Can’t have my favorite PR gal out of commission!”

“I don’t even work for you, Logan.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be my favorite,” he smiled again, his eyes crinkling which drew your attention to them. He had an enviously long eyelash stuck to his face, right at the top of his cheekbone.

Before you could register what you were doing, your hand reached up to his face, swiping your thumb gently across his cheek. Not so different than the position you were in earlier, but this time the roles reversed.

“You had an eyelash,” you whispered. “Make a wish!”

You held your thumb out in front of his lips, watching as he slightly puckered them and blew softly.

“What did you wish for?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true. And I really want it to come true.”

“Can I have a hint?” You pleaded, completely overwhelmed by the flirty nature that had taken over your conversation.

 “Alright, one hint,” he conceded. “It has to do with this girl – she’s incredibly smart and kind, prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, clumsier than anyone I’ve ever met, and I’m constantly clinging to her boss just to have five minutes to talk to her.

“She sounds lovely, you should definitely ask her out. Tomorrow, though. With flowers. Far away from Alex Albon so he doesn’t immediately say to her ‘I told you so’.” You tried your hardest not to sound over-eager, to keep some impression of mystery and composure, but you failed miserably – every word spoken with glee and matched by a smile so wide it hurt your face.

“I can do that,” he chuckled, endeared by your enthusiasm. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then? Any flowers in particular?”

You froze and your smile dropped when a voice chimed in from behind you – “She likes tulips and gerbera daisies, I sent her flowers for her birthday last year.”

“Perfect,” Logan responded, his gaze briefly fixated behind you. He leaned in and kissed you swiftly on the cheek – darting away before you could say anything else.

Your hand flew up to your face to touch the spot where he had kissed you, warm to the touch and tingling underneath your fingerprints. You turned around slowly, hoping to beat him to it, but at the same time you both shouted at each other.

“Don’t say a word, Albon!”

“I told you so!”

And despite Alex’s teasing, both verbal and glances, for the rest of the day – you couldn’t wipe the giddy smile off your face or get rid of the fluttery feeling in your chest.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 18 - All For You

Guys, I fear this one may be worse than the last angsty one I wrote. Am I getting better or worse? – I have no clue…I’m just in a super angsty mood rn 

Also, I know that it “Born to Break Records” I said that Max didn’t know about reader’s godfather passing. What I meant to say was that he didn’t know at the time when he gave reader the trophy after she won her debut f2 race. But, because reader has a special helmet for Imola since Lorenzo was Italian, she’d have to tell him about the helmet. 

TW: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, HARSH LANGUAGE, SHITTY PARENTS, AND PHYSICAL ABUSE

I am prepared for the therapy bills…

How does someone write “and they swapped spit” in a romantic way?? Asking for a friend 

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! 

TAG LIST IS CLOSED 

It couldn’t be them. 

You blinked and stared in the direction that you had been previously looking. Your eyes narrowed as you gazed at the small crack of the garage and where the gate was. You quickly placed your special helmet down on a table and dodged mechanics as you stepped out. Mitch barely glanced at your leaving as you often went to visit other drivers before the race if you had time. And today, the parade was a bit earlier, so most of the drivers used this time to destress a bit more than usual. 

As you got closer, two familiar people stood out to you. Right now, they were arguing with one of the Red Bull security guards. Your face grimaced as you could hear the shouting multiple feet away. 

As you got closer, your blood ran colder. You knew it was a bad idea to come out here, but it was like a moth to a flame or even a lamb to a slaughter. You couldn’t stop your feet until you were just a few steps away. 

“Mom? Dad?” 

The group of three’s heads swerved toward yours. The security guard, who you recognized to be Frederik, looked at you with a questioning face. The other two looked relieved but also angry at you. 

Your father rolled his eyes and pointed toward you before yelling at Fred. “See, I told you that we were her parents, now let us in,” he demanded. 

Your heart dropped a bit at the statement. You were never one to stand up to your father, especially when he was already angry. 

Your hear barely nodded, almost as if you were trying to even convince yourself that you were fine with them invading your life. 

Fred looked over with concern. 

“It’s ok Fred.” 

“Are you sure kid?” 

Your mother huffed. “She said it was fine. Now let us through.” 

Fred sure took his sweet time to unlock the gate, something that you could find some thankfulness for. 

Your mother came close to you first and wrapped you in an awkward hug: one that you did not return as it was too quick to reciprocate. Your father just stood there, with the same disappointing stare he always had. 

You put your hands to the side. “What are you two doing here? Last I knew is that you wanted nothing to do with me.” 

Your father rolled his eyes and your mother let out a squawk. “Is that what you’ve been telling your friends? Goodness gracious child, going around speaking lies.” 

You winced at her demeaning tone. 

Your father spoke next. “You make it into Formula 1 and forget everything that we did for you? How fucking pathetic.” He all but spit out the last word.

“Kid!” 

Your head whipped around at lightning speed. Mitch was waving at you from the garage, a curious look on your face.

You tried to give her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your face. “Coming!” You turned toward your parents. “You can follow me, but please do not touch anything and just stand in the corner.” 

That earned another round of scoffs and groans. 

“Someone has gotten bratty I see,” you mother seethed. 

You paid no attention and walked back to the garage. You only knew that they followed you because you had memorized their footprints long ago when you were too scared to even get out of your room on multiple occasions. There was a difference between their normal strides, angry strides, and sneaky strides that they used when they tried to “catch” you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing – like getting an extra snack because they “forgot” to make you dinner. 

You had hoped that Max, Christian, Vito, or even Mitch would be right there when you walked in, but the universe definitely hated you today. The said four were standing in a little circle, probably going over some last minute data. You had stopped in the entrance and watched them, scared that they would ask questions.

While you were watching, a rough shove was directed toward your back, sending you to the floor and making a noise. Your knees were definitely bruised now and your hands were scraped on the concrete. Max, Christian, Mitch, and Vito all turned toward the noise. You had just gotten back up and continued walking, parents behind you. 

Some of the engineers had watched your father push you and were starting to question as to who he thought he was, pushing you around like that. 

“Oops, didn’t see you there,” your father said. 

Vito’s back straightened in defense when his eyes looked at your parents. You shot him a sorry look as he made eye contact with you. 

“Ah there you are kid. We were just going over some last minute notes. Who might this be?” Christian asked, walking toward you. Right now, he was thinking that they might be some older couple that you might have known from your childhood. 

Boy, was he wrong. 

Your eyes glanced back at your parents and sent Christian a look, trying to communicate to him that you really didn’t want these two in the garage. 

“Uh, Christian, these are my parents.” Your hands lightly raised in the air, as if to show them off. 

Christian’s eyes darkened as he looked at the couple. Max behind him was mentally killing them both. Mitch was just wondering about how she could get you out of this uncomfortable situation. 

“Y/n didn’t tell me that we’d be having personal guests today,” Christian said, folding his arms in a defensive pose. 

You prayed that your father wouldn’t roll his eyes at your boss. 

Your father only stared at the slightly taller Brit before looking at you, annoyance evident on his face. Your mother, once again, scoffed. 

“Wow,” your mother let off a very fake giggle, “our own daughter didn’t tell you that we were coming? Shows you how much appreciation kids have these days.” Another fake laugh followed. 

Max winced at the sight of your crest-fallen face. You looked absolutely miserable. 

“Hmmm, doesn’t sound like our kid.” Christian tried to back you up. 

Your mother had walked over to where you special Imola helmet was laying. She picked it up and twirled it around. 

It was a beautiful piece of work. The colors of the Italian flag blended beautifully. On the side you had Lorenzo’s crest with his birthdate and death-date underneath as a tribute to him. You watched as her lip curled in disgust. But, you also saw as one of the mechanics came up and took it directly from her, telling her that no one but you or authorized personelle should be touching it. 

Christian spoke up again, “Well, we are very busy right now and I need to speak to my drivers.”

But before Christian could get you away, Max stepped forward, a false smile on his lips and a hand stretched out. 

“Max Verstappen, three time World Champion.’ 

You knew this shpeel very well. Max only said the whole title when he was over someone’s bullshit, or he knew that they were just using him for his fame. 

Your father had some type of dumbstruck look as he took Max’s hand. The fuming Dutchman used this opportunity to tightly squeeze his hand, tighter than a normal handshake should have been. It made him happy to see your father wince at the grip. 

Your father’s hand then came and rested on your shoulder. You tensed as his grip got much harder and harder, probably leaving yet another bruise. “My daughter has a lot to accomplish if you’re her teammate. Good thing she doesn’t have the talent to outshine you.” 

You hated it when your father belittled you. He had done this multiple times in front of old friends. He was a manipulator and a narcissist. Your breath, that had been a bunch of harsh inhales and exhales, started to hitch. Clear signs of a panic attack were just around the corner. And your team could tell that you were about to possibly have a meltdown if you didn’t get out now. 

Mitch finally spoke up. “We have a race in just under 30 minutes and I need to privately go over something with my drivers. Max and Y/n, please follow me. Christian, I need you as well and Vito you know what to do, we’ll be in the main driver’s room (Max’s driver room).” 

Your manager gave your parents one last glare before rushing out of the Red Bull garage. 

Mitch was totally bullshitting them because it was actually closer to 45 full minutes rather than less than 30. 

Max held your shoulders, much lighter than your father had. He noticed your breathing had started to pick up. He sent a worried glance at the Team Principal who was currently clearing the way. 

To you, it felt like your head was underwater. Everything was blurry as you looked at the world through tears, and your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Your skin felt tingly and it pricked where Max’s hands were now gently holding your elbows as he guided you to the room. You could barely hear them trying to get you to calm down. 

Once in the room, you had sunk to the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, as a means of protection. Hands waved in front of your face, trying to get your attention as you stared numbly forward. Each wave shook a flinch out of your body. 

A sudden inhale brought on ugly sobs as you tried to breath out apologies for things you didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, please don’t hurt…me.” 

Your speech was broken, along with the hearts of Max, Mitch, and Christian who watched their strong girl break down because of someone who should have loved you. Quick knocks on the door alerted the room of someone else. 

You suddenly froze, not breathing, as you were thinking that your parents were about to invade yet another safe space. Yet, your vision was filled with red and familiar cologne. 

Your body acted on autopilot as your arms wrapped around the familiar figure of your boyfriend. 

His voice was still fuzzy as he started to rock you back and forth. 

Arthur looked around at the pained faces of your teammate, race engineer, manager, and team principal as they all looked down at you. 

Christian kneeled down next to the younger Monegasque. “Is there anything we can do?” 

He thought for a moment. You were curled sideways in his lap. Your legs were scrunched in fetal position, arms wrapped around his bicep as you clung to him. Your head rested against his chest with your eyes still closed. 

“Her blood sugar gets low after an attack, can someone find some juice?” Vito and Christian all but bolted out the door. 

“Mitch can you turn off the light? And Max, please rub her back. I’d do it, but her arms are wrapped around mine.” 

The lights suddenly dimmed behind your eyelids and a hand gently touched your bad, trying to see if you’d flinch. When your back didn’t tense, Max continued to apply gentle pressure and his hand moved in small circles. 

A big sigh escaped your lips as you came down from your sobs. Your lungs burned with each ragged breath, but they were thankful for new oxygen. 

Your eyes remained closed as you took a minute to get your bearings in order. You tried to count down in your head starting from 100, which normally helped you calm down faster. You finally cracked your eyes open and sat up a bit straighter. The hand that was soothing on your back lifted away. A whine almost escaped your lips, but you reeled it in. 

Arthur took notice of your open eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How are you doing? You were out of it for a while. Much longer than usual.” 

You hummed. “I’m ok. A bit…” 

“Thirsty?” The voice of your manager sounded as he walked in with multiple juice boxes in his arms, Christian behind him with even more juice boxes, and a certain Monegasque driver carried a variety of snacks in his arms. 

Your eyes widened with excitement as your hand reached up to grab an apple juice from Vito. Arthur quickly took it from you and pressed the straw in and held it to your lips. 

“Small sips,” he reminded you. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew he was right. 

After a couple of sips, you asked, “How long was it this time.” 

Your legs finally stretched out from their crunched position. 

“Almost twenty minutes,” Mitch told you, handing you an icepack to put on your head. She guessed that you may be prone to migraines after panic attacks and got you one just in case. Mitch was glad to see you take it and put it on your head immediately. 

The room was silent for a moment, before Max spoke. 

“Kid, what were they doing here?” 

You sighed. “I thought I saw them and I went to go check it out. Turns out it was them, and I really can’t speak up against my dad when he’s angry.” 

Arthur concluded, “So he bullied you into getting what he wanted?”

You winced at the word, but nodded just the same. 

Christian spoke up. “I couldn’t get them kicked out of the grand prix since they had tickets, but they aren’t going to be in the garage. Do you feel all right to race today?” 

“You don’t have to kid if you aren’t feeling well,” Mitch also added on. 

You shook your head. “No, I want to race.” 

The room knew what this weekend meant for you. When you had happily shown them your new helmet, their eyes had welled with tears as you talked about the man who loved you more than life itself. 

Max, who hadn’t known until Wednesday, had given you the biggest hug when it was a good moment. You didn’t know who was comforting who at that moment, but the hug would go down in your list of top 5 hugs ever. 

Arthur sensed that you wanted to stand by the way you were wiggling. He slowly helped you to his feet as he pressed another juice box into your hands. Charles quickly opened a bag of Cheetos as you stared at the orange bag. 

“I ran to Logan,” he simply stated. He knew that the American was the one who always had your favorite snacks on hand. One, because it was a big American brand, and two, the blond had a soft spot for you and always kept them stocked. 

You took the orange twist and happily munched on the snack. The digital clock on Max’s desk showed that there was about 10 minutes left until you needed to get into the car. You quickly finished the small bag and chugged the rest of the juice. 

Christian had to step out and start heading to the pit wall. Mitch followed the older Brit so that she could get to her spot inside the garage. Max and Charles left because Max needed to go over some things with GP, while Charles had to run back to Ferrari to get into his own car. 

Vito stayed behind to check on you for just a few more moments. He knew first-hand how scared your dad and mom made you feel.

Then it was just you and Arthur for a couple of minutes. Your forehead pressed against his. 

“Thank you, for coming to help.” 

Arthur chuckled. “You really need to stop scaring me. No flipping today, ok?” 

You nodded before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips this time. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, but he couldn’t help it. 

You gently punched his chest. “Thur, you do that every single time.” 

Arthur brought you back closer. “It’s just because you make me so happy chéri.”  

You gave him another peck, before you led him out of the room. He helped you put your helmet on, and did his ritual “forehead kiss” to the top of it. With your handshake also done, you climbed into your car. The mechanics who had seen you with your parents made sure that you were all right. They were met with a bright smile and a thumbs up from you.

For this race, you qualified rather high. Max had pouted because today had been a Ferrari front-row lock out. You had to remind him that he had beaten Charles before from starting father back. It seemed to pacify the Dutchman. 

Starting Grid 

Charles Leclerc  

Carlos Sainz 

Max Verstappen 

Lando Norris 

Y/n L/n 

George Russell 

Lewis Hamilton 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Logan Sargeant 

Alex Albon 

Oscar Piastri 

Lance Stroll 

Fernando Alonso 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Pierre Gasly 

Esteban Ocon 

Valtteri Bottas 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

To say this would be one of your worst races (and you'd DNF-ed before), would be an understatement. Your migraine had come back and your water was completely out by the last quarter of the race. You hadn’t been able to keep Charles off for long for Max to catch up, which made Charles take the lead in the second half. 

Max had also been confused as you had dropped behind him as well when you should have been your strongest. 

You loved racing, but today you hated it. Your brain felt as though it was pounding with a sledge hammer against your skull. 

“For the first time in almost two years, Charles Leclerc has grabbed a victory. Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2024 Imola Grand Prix. Max Verstappen clinches second with his rookie teammate Y/n L/n right behind him to make it a 2-3 for Red Bull. They are followed by Lando Norris and Lewis Hamilton…” 

Race Results 

Charles Leclerc – 25 points 

Max Verstappen – 18 points 

Y/n L/n – 15 points 

Lando Norris – 12 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 11 points 

Oscar Piastri – 8 points 

Alex Albon – 6 points 

George Russell – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 2 points 

Carlos Sainz – 1 point 

Fernando Alonso 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Pierre Gasly 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Zhou Guanyu 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Lance Stroll 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Standings After Imola 

Max Verstappen – 168 points 

Charles Leclerc – 120 points 

Y/n L/n – 80 points 

Lando Norris – 73 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points 

Oscar Piastri – 53 points 

George Russell – 35 points

Carlos Sainz – 34 points  

Alex Albon – 26 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points 

Logan Sargeant – 19 points 

Lance Stroll

Pierre Galsy 

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings 

Red Bull – 248 points 

Ferrari – 153 points 

McLaren – 126 points 

Mercedes – 95 points 

Williams – 45 points 

Aston Martin – 23 points 

Racing Bulls – 21 points 

Alpha Romeo 

Haas

Alpine 

When you pulled into Parc Ferme, you barely had the strength to get out of the car. You only found out that you needed to get out was when Max lightly tapped your helmet and held out a hand. You gratefully grabbed it and Max hauled you out. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, with concern storming in his blue eyes. A nod of your head pacified him for now. 

Your headache only got worse when you spotted your parents standing at the wall. You tried to send the team apologetic looks when you walked right past them, something you never did even if you didn’t even podium for a race. You always ran to their open arms. 

You’d send them lots of coffee and gifts for their families to make up for it. 

You kept your helmet on for as long as you could. It helped to damper all the loud noise of the paddock. 

Max and Charles both recognized that you wanted little to no noise if possible, so they kept quiet or spoke in soft whispers if they did speak. You immediately sat down in a corner, trying to cool off and will your migraine away. 

You only opened your eyes once again when you were called to the podium. You were thankful that you didn’t feel any panic as you walked out and stood on the lowest step. You watched as Max walked out and stood on the second place step before watching Charles almost skip to the top step. You giggled as you watched the Ferrari driver subtly stick his tongue out at Max. For a moment, you were scared at the repercussions but Max only smiled and rolled his eyes.  

You took off your cap for the Monegasque anthem along with the Italian one. When you were handed your trophy, you gently kissed it (even though it didn’t light up) and held it to the sky while also pointing. The two older drivers watched as you looked so happy. Deep down, they wanted you to be on the top step, but your time was coming. 

Max was then handed his trophy. His lips were a bit tight, but he’d get over it. 

Charles was quite the opposite. You guessed that he was finally happy that his dry spell was over. A sixth career win and first in almost two years. You clapped as the red-clad driver held his trophy proudly. 

Your head was still pounding, but the migraine was slowly going away. You didn’t have much strength to do your usual champagne cannon, but you still sprayed Charles as much as you could. When there wasn’t anything else to spray, you poured the rest on your teammate. 

You had a giant smile on your face as you looked down at the crowd. Yet, it slowly disappeared as your eyes found your parents, looking up at you with distain clearly written on their faces. You turned to Max, who was already looking down as well. 

He pointed down, though, right next to them where Christian and Geri were both standing, proud smiles on their faces as they looked up at you. 

Geri was trying to communicate for you and Max to stand closer and to smile for her camera. You quickly put your hand around his waist to bring him in closer. With trophies raised and bright smiles, she held a thumbs up when she took the picture. Christian just continued to look at the two of you as though you had just won him every single race possible. 

You were then assured off the podium and back to the garage. 

“I promise, I’ll find you after. You know how much I hate wearing my clothes after they get sticky,” you told Max as you walked toward your drivers room. 

You had barely just gotten you shirt on when your door opened and closed. 

Your rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have just waited?” 

You turned, expecting either Max or your boyfriend. Yet, you were met with a slap across the face. Your cheek stung as you shakily raised a hand to touch it. A hiss left your lips when your fingers glazed your reddening cheek.

You barely had time to get try to get away, before another hand hit the side of your head, making your migraine slowly creep up again. 

This time, a sob slipped through your lips as you looked at your parents, who were fuming.

“What did I do?” you tried to get out, voice cracking. 

“After everything we did for you, you can only get a shitty third place?” your mother spit. 

“Seriously, how fucking pathetic do you have to be. Offering up the trophy to someone who is dead?” your father questioned. 

It was your turn to suddenly seethe. You pointed a finger at your dad. “He loved me. He taught me everything I know.” You knew you were pressing his buttons, and you were about to press the big red one that says Do Not Press. “He was the man that you’d never be.” 

Another hit to the face had your head swinging. You knew that there would be a big bruise in the morning. But you were proud for finally standing up to him. 

Your mother’s hand hit the other side of your face, sending you staggering back to your dad. You braced yourself for another hit, but it didn’t come. Your eyes opened and widened at the sight of your teammate with murder in his eyes. 

Christian was behind him, on the phone, with your manager to the right, boyfriend and his brother on the left.

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Max spoke, scarily calm. Your father jerked to hit him, and that was game over.  

Security came quickly after Max had some more colorful words and quite possibly a hit to his face so that your father’s matched yours. 

Arthur had come to wrap his arms around you, as a protective barrier. 

As you watched your mother and father be led out by cuffs, the news coming that they had been banned for life from any Formula 1 activity, and that Vito had now gotten you a restraining order (something he said that he should have done years ago just in case) – you knew that you had finally found the family that you had always wanted. 

The family that you had always needed.   

And you’d keep racing and winning, because 4 years ago, you made a promise. 

To keep going and to keep fighting. 

As you walked out of the garage, with a third place trophy and your helmet, you gently pressed your own kiss to the top of it. 

“You’d be proud of me,” you whispered, “and it’s all for you. Because you were everything that I needed.” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Imola was an experience. Glad I could podium in my late godfather's country to make him proud. I wish he could have been standing there to watch me today, but I have three other men who are enough for me. To Christian, Max, and Vito - I love you three, thanks for always watching my back. Oh, and my boyfriend is pretty great too, he's just shy. Thank you for an amazing experience, I'll be back next year to win (Charlie move over)

tagged: christianhorner, maxverstappen1, and vito_official

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, vito_official, and 94,294 others

y/n_nation I'm not sobbing, you're sobbing

kid_y/n geri and christian both smiling like proud parents killed me

maxverstappen1 why would you do this?

y/n.89 ?? charles_leclerc he's crying right now y/n.89 oh, sorry not sorry?? maxverstappen1 you will be

christianhorner I know I can't speak for him, but he'd be so proud of you kid

gerihalliwellhorner we love you sweetie! can't wait for the next family dinner! maxverstappen1 family dinner? sebastianvettel you didn't get the invite?? y/n.89 oh no christianhorner uhhhhhh charles_leclerc he's crying again

mad_max the way that in every picture, they're looking at y/n

y/n_updates aahhhh the boyfriend has been mentioned!!!

y/n.89 I can't believe we're going to the track that THEE lightning mcqueen drove on

arthur_leclerc you mean...the Monaco Grand Prix....where you live...my hometown...Charles's home race... liamlawson she said what she said - lightning mcqueen's race charles_leclerc I'm done y/n.89 LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RESPONDED TO ME???? LIAM LOOK AT THIS liamlawson I'M LOOKING charles_leclerc goodbye y/n.89 DON'T GO

f1 see you all in Monaco!

author can everyone forgive me now?

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[flemingsfreckles]

Replacement Part 6

Read the previous chapters here!

Warnings: none

WC: 3.0k

A/N: I don’t have much to say… hi yall… I’m working on doing better with writing but it’s still rough.

You hadn’t expected to become acquaintance with Jessie, and you definitely hadn’t expected to become friends with her, and yet here you were, just a few weeks after you had gone over to her house for the first time the two of you were friends.

The morning after your dinner and talk, you had again decided to grab a coffee, picking up Jessie and Janine both one this time. Much to your surprise, when you walked into the locker room, there was a coffee already sitting in your cubby.

As you walked over Jessie looked up at you, giving you a quick smile before her eyes fell to the tray of coffees you were balancing. She laughed softly before standing up to take the tray from you so you could put down the rest of your belongings.

“Guess we had the same idea, huh?” She says when you finally take your headphones off, putting them in your backpack before hanging it in the locker

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe we should start scheduling our coffee runs.” You say it as a joke, it’s meant to just fill the air but Jessie doesn’t see it that way.

“Or we could go together?” Jessie’s words come out and you feel your stomach drop. Your mind drifts back to Sam’s teasing, the mention of the crush, all of it.

“To get coffee?” You add quickly after realizing you’d be standing in silence just looking at the Canadian.

“In the mornings, I just figured since we live close enough, we could walk together? I’m a little surprised we didn’t run into each other this morning going there.”

“Oh I mean, you obviously were there before me.” You said, intentionally dodging Jessie’s offer. You had to admit the sweet girl in front of you had grown on you, more than you’d like to admit. She was funny, easy going, she cared about your interests, you had started to enjoy her company.

Was this a date invitation? If it was you’d have to say no. But you didn’t know if it was, maybe it was just friendly, maybe Sam was wrong. Jessie didn’t seem to mind you dismissing her question, she didn’t ask again, just nodding and sipping the coffee you had brought her, abandoning the half drank one she bought herself.

You didn’t think again about her offer to get coffee until a week later.

It was an off weekend so when training ended Friday everyone was in a rush to leave and start their free weekend. Everyone except you. You had to go get your stitches removed, something you had been dreading since they were put in.

“Hey, what are you still doing here?” You ask when you see Jessie sitting in the ice bath despite training ending nearly an hour ago. You can’t help but let your eyes drift lower than normal, she was standing in waist deep water, just in her sports bra. Her toned stomach and arms on display. You quickly snap out of your admiring, reminding yourself that you weren’t attracted to her, you just wanted your body to look like hers.

She looks up and smiles seeing you. “I could ask you the same, but I was just doing some extra running, so I’m just late on my recovery.”

“Stitches are supposed to come out today.” You point to your cheek before the team doctor comes out from his office. He lets you know he’ll be right with you, you make your way to the table to sit down.

As you sit down you hear Jessie climb out of the ice bath. You glance over and watch as she grabs a towel, wrapping it around her waist. She tucks it, leaving her midsection exposed to the air. Your attention gets pulled to the doctor in front of you as he places down a tray of tools next to you.

He starts looking at your face and out of the corner of your eye you see Jessie hovering a few feet away. She’s standing looking at you as the doctor looks at your cheek. “Alright, looks good, we’ll go ahead numb you up and get them pulled out.”

He discards his gloves and moves to fill out paperwork. That’s when Jessie moves closer. “Want a hand?” You look at her, making eye contact with her soft brown eyes, the sweet smile across her face has your knees weak for a second.

“Oh, no, it’s fine, you can go ahead and go, I don’t want to keep you here any longer.” You brush her offer off. The doctor comes back, syringe in hand which causes your stomach to tighten and your eyes to widen. You swallow hard and begin to lay down how you had when you had gotten the stitches put in.

Jessie must’ve noticed your visible nerves to the syringe. She doesn’t leave she instead finds herself back standing by your head. She doesn’t say anything but places a hand out which you take embarrassingly quickly. Her hand was a welcomed distraction from the pinch in your cheek, an even nicer distraction was the view of her toned stomach in front of you. Within a few minutes the doctor tells you you’re done and you sit up, finally clearing your mind from the thought of Jessie’s midsection.

She didn’t know you had been staring, but you felt like she knew, you felt your face burn slightly red.

“You alright? You look flushed.” Jessie says still holding your hand.

“Yeah I’m good.” You drop her hand. “Thank you, again. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but we’re friends.” She shrugs. “Your hand was less sweaty this time.”

“God that’s embarrassing.” You cover your face.

Jessie turns and heads out to the locker room, you follow having to still pack up your gear. “No, I’m just teasing you, they weren’t really sweaty either time.”

“Liar.” You smile at her, knowing she’s just being too nice.

She just turns and shrugs, a small smirk across her face. You both stand side by side packing up your gear, she changes and for the first time in your life you notice the urge to glance over. You’d never had an interest in seeing your teammates change, never had an interest in watching the muscles flex across someone’s back as they pulled a shirt on, but you did.

You drag your mind elsewhere, away from Jessie, trying to finish packing up.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jessie turns to look at you, sitting down to put her shoes on.

“Tomorrow? Well we’re off so I don’t know. Probably nothing, which is lame but…”

“Do you want something to do?”

“What?”

“I was thinking of getting coffee and walking along the river. I’ve been meaning to get my camera out again since we walked around with Sam and Hina, I just haven’t. Figured tomorrow would be a good time to break it out again. The roses are out now.”

“Oh, that sounds like a good afternoon for you.”

“Do you want to come with? That’s what I was asking.” Jessie asks as she slings her bag across her shoulder.

That felt like a date. Was it a date? Or was it just friends hanging out? You mentally cursed Sam for bringing up the suggestion that maybe Jessie had a crush.

“You don’t have to.” Jessie jumps in, clearly noticing the way you were contemplating her offer. “I just figured since we’re sort of friends now, I like hanging out with you.” Jessie shrugs.

“No, that sounds nice.” You smile at her. “What time?”

“Up to you, if you want to sleep in, we can go late morning, I just have to be back for an appointment around 3.”

“I’m not a great sleeper. I’ll probably be up by 5am but we don’t have to go that early.”

“How about I’ll just let you know once I’m up?” She stands up grabbing her bag and throwing it over her shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“See ya tomorrow, have a goodnight.”

“You too.” You watch her walk out before turning back your attention to finishing packing your own bag before heading out to go home for the night.

You spend the next morning waiting around for Jessie’s text. You had woken up with a tingle in anticipation in your chest. She texted you around 8am.

Jessie: Morning! I’m up and can be ready whenever, just let me know.

You read it and waited just a few minutes, not wanting to seem like you were waiting for her text.

You: I’m up, whenever works for me. I can walk to meet you.

It took her a few minutes to reply but she did, saying to just let her know once you’re outside. So you did just that, throwing on some shoes and headed out your door and up the street toward her place.

You waited, leaned up against a tree waiting for Jessie. She emerged from the building a few moments later, wearing a pair of blue shorts and the black Nike shirt she loved so much. Her camera was slung across her chest and she was actively putting on a hat as she walked toward you.

“You sure do love that shirt Fleming.” You tease her.

“What does that mean?” She looks up confused and slightly offended look across her face.

“Nothing, you just wear it a lot.”

“Well I like it. Are you good to just wander once we grab coffee?”

“Sure, I like the sound of that.”

That’s exactly what the two of you did. You waited in line at the coffee shop, Jessie insisting on paying for your drink despite your protests, arguing that it was her idea to go out so she should cover it.

The two of you then went on walking through the streets of Portland, reaching the bank of the river and following it. It reminded you a lot of the day with your teammates. Jessie stopping every once in a while to take a photo. You watching her meticulously.

You knew she had a good eye for photography, you’d seen some of her photos before. It was fascinating to you to watch her work in real time. She took photos in a similar manner to how she played on the field. She paid attention to detail. She took her time. She was diligent.

You started asking questions. Why she took a certain photo, why did she changed positions for a photo, and what about it made her interested in it? Jessie seemed so happy to talk about her photography, answering all the questions you asked, adding little anecdotes and stories into her answers as well. She explained why for some shots she took them using her film camera while others her digital. She explained how she likes the lighting to look, how she likes the subject to be located in an image. She ran you through every thought in her brain. You loved hearing it. The way she spoke about her photography showed you exactly how much she loved it, how much she cared about it.

The two of you walk along, spending a couple hours outside enjoying the sights of Portland. You take a second looking out over the river, admiring the bridge in front of you when you hear a click from behind you. You turn to see what Jessie was taking a photo of and are surprised to see her holding her camera up in your direction, a sheepish look across her face.

“Did you just take my photo?”

“Yes.” She says before immediately beginning to apologize. “Sorry I should’ve asked. I’ve actually taken a few of you today. Just the lighting and the way you’re standing and I can see the bridge you’re looking at, it was just a nice view. Sorry.”

“Oh, I mean it’s fine, I don’t mind.” You weren’t actually sure if you minded. Normally you didn’t love your photo being taken, you would get shy, insecure, but something about Jessie wanting to take photos of you felt different.

“I’ll send them to you of course, unless you’d rather I delete them, I’m sorry I really should’ve asked.” The more she talks the more her face reddens.

“Okay, really Jessie it’s fine.”

She gives you a small smile, a tiny hint of a blush across her cheeks.

The two of you head back toward you apartments, it had quickly become late afternoon, time flying by as you enjoyed your afternoon with the Canadian. The two of you not even relaxing just how late it was until Jessie realized if you didn’t head home soon, she’d be late for her media appointment. The two of you sped walk, but practically ran through the streets of Portland to get back to your street.

“Have a good rest of your day Jessie. Thank you for the invite, I had a really nice time.” You laughed at how the two of you were both breathing heavily as you stood outside of your door. For two professional athletes, the two of you sure were tired.

“Thank you for coming, I really enjoyed hanging out with you. I’ll be sure to send you the photos.” She says with a smile.

“See ya, sorry for almost making you late.” You return the smile before turning into the door and heading inside.

As you made yourself a late lunch you couldn’t ignore the feeling of warmth that Jessie had left inside of you. She made your morning nice. You felt seen by her, she cared about you, and while temporarily that felt good, in the back of your mind you couldn’t ignore the remainder in the back of your head. You couldn’t like her, that wasn’t an option. You turn you attention back to your meal and sit down with a book to enjoy the rest of your day off.

Your phone pings from across the room and you wander over to it picking it up to see a slew of images being sent to you from Jessie. You open them and suddenly learn just how many photos of you the girl had taken. There had to be 20-30 images of you, all with different backgrounds. Some you were holding your coffee, some must’ve been from later in the day, your coffee empty. Most of them were the back of you, capturing you looking out at something, some just of you waking, the city captured around you. Towards the end, a few of your side profile, a few of you somewhat facing her, ones she had clearly taken after telling you she was photographing you. You didn’t often love photos of yourself, but these were different, you liked almost all of them.

You: Wow, seriously I feel like I should be paying you for these.

Jessie: It’s no biggie. You’re an easy subject to photograph, very photogenic. I’ll send you the film ones once I get those developed.

You start debating what to type back. If anything it was probably just her ability to take good photos, not you that made the pictures good. Tell her how she’s made you suddenly not hate the way you look in photos. That felt too forward, so you don’t type that. You start typing out a simple thank you but another message from Jessie comes through.

Jessie: Hey can I ask you something?

You delete the previously typed message and respond.

You: Yeah sure.

That’s when your phone started to ring, Jessie’s name on the screen indicating she was calling you. You slide your thumb across the screen and answer.

“Hey.” You hear her voice through the phone.

“Hi.” You answer. “What's up?” You stand up from the couch, starting to pace the room as you did whenever you were on the phone.

“Sorry, just this is easier than texting you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

There’s a beat of silence before Jessie starts talking again. “So maybe this is stupid to ask, I need a date for Janine's wedding. I mean I don't need one, but I don't know, Janine just made a comment that I was the only one in the bridal party without a plus one. I know you got a separate invite but maybe we could go together? As friends, not as a date, I know I said date but not what I really meant.” You can’t help but notice the way she seemed to get nervous as she asked. The way her voice became rushed the longer she spoke.

“You want a date?” You feel a twinge of tightness in your chest just mentioning the word ‘date’ to her.

“It’s not a date, I just said date because that's what it's called. I just meant, do you want to go together? I don’t really have anyone else to ask, everyone else already has a date or I don't know them that well.” You pondered for a moment, you didn’t know many of Janine’s friends beyond your teammates who had been invited, you weren’t familiar with her Canadian team, or her family. Having someone you did know, someone who knew the Canadian team, Janine’s friends and family would be nice, make it a little more comfortable.

“Wow, feels good to know I was your 50th choice.” You roll your eyes even though you know she can’t see you, making sure the sarcasm is obvious in your voice.

“That’s not what I meant.” Jessie pauses for a moment. “So is that a yes?” She sounds hesitant, almost nervous to ask as if she was holding her breath on the other end of the phone.

You intentionally let out an over dramatic sigh, wanting to push Jessie’s buttons a bit more. “I guess, I still owe you a favor or two for being an ass to you, so sure.”

“Oh, cool!” She sounded actually surprised. “Thanks, and just so you know you don’t have to spend the whole night with me. It’ll just be nice to have someone.”

[stellewriites]

Part Two

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife’s wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, subtle transphobia from minor characters

John was sat in his flat watching a Match of the Day rerun for a football game he’d missed while away when his phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.

His head swivelled over to it to see if it buzzed again, determining it unimportant enough to ignore for the time being when it stayed silent. Kate always called, so it wasn’t work and anyone else that was texting him after 9pm could wait.

It buzzed a second time, then a third and a fourth in quick succession and he felt curiosity twinge at the base of his skull. He pushed himself up, ignoring when one of his knees popped, and grabbed his phone.

Your name flashed up on the screen and he opened the chat without hesitation.

>> the photos from today, don’t forget to swap them out :)

He flicked through the photos you’d sent before picking one at random to save.

John sat back on his couch and agonised over swapping his lock screen.

It was currently an old photo of Charlotte from their honeymoon, and it had stayed that way this entire time in spite of the divorce. He had kept her there even when he’d removed her photos from his desk and was unable to put any up in his new flat. His little secret. Though he knew Kate had seen it despite his best efforts to leave his civilian phone at his flat or turned off during his office hours.

But now…

He felt almost queasy as he selected the new photo. It felt like the first of many final nails in the relationship’s coffin that John would have to deal with over the next month in the lead up to Charlotte’s big day.

It felt like he was mourning a relationship already six years dead.

---

John adapted quickly to seeing your face on his phone screen at the end of the day over the next two weeks, even if he did miss seeing Charlotte’s cheery smile, and found it just as easy to accept seeing your name pop up more and more frequently when you messaged with a new question you’d thought of regarding the wedding or your fake relationship.

It was easy to talk to you, he found. Easy to let his guard down just a tinge and to try and bury the hurt he felt.

>> what’s a childhood story you’d have told me about a couple months in?

<< I fell out of a tree when I was 12, was meant to be grounded at the time so I had to walk home with broken ribs and a scraped up arm and leg. Tried to pretend nothing had happened when my mum got back from work, but it didn’t fool her.

>> i broke my arm climbing a tree too, maybe one of our dates should’ve been at a forest climbing adventure place lol

<< You wouldn’t have wanted to be wined and dined?

>> sure but it can get a little boring

>> you wouldn’t have wanted to hypothetically stare at my arse cinched in climbing gear?

>> were there food options for the wedding? like on planes? i’m not a veggie so you dodged a bullet if you chose a main with meat but i do love pasta if we’re able to swap last minute

<< Everyone loves pasta.

<< And no, think it’s an open buffet.

>> i’ll bring a doggy bag for snacks on the way home then

>> waste not, want not

<< Say that in front of my dad and he might just add you to his will.

>> this is the dress I have in mind, what do you think?

<< Good choice.

>> glowing praise, john, i’ll take that as it won’t cause a scandal among the locals

<< Don’t think you’ll be the one causing a scandal, Sunshine.

It was in a rare occasion he’d texted you first that you arranged to meet up a second time. He’d asked about the plans you’d mentioned a few days back and was currently waiting for a reply while he tried to slog through his own work.

>> was super excited for the play today but I think I might have to cancel my tickets, my friend was driving us there but her kid has gotten sick so she can’t go now :/

<< Where were you going?

>> it’s at a park on the other side of the city with the outdoor stage, i could grab a couple of buses but i don’t know if i’d make it in time

John put down the dry sandwich he was eating and looked at the meeting reports he’d been ignoring for the last ten minutes while texting you.

<< I’ll come pick you up.

>> really??

<< Sure. Send me your address and I’ll be there soon, Sunshine.

John had barely parked up outside your house before you were opening the door and giving him an excited smile and wave.

“I love stuff like this anyway, but this community group have put on some amazing portrayals of Shakespeare’s plays over the years despite their low budget and they make it so accessible with cheap tickets and the outdoor venue. It’s cut down so the teens performing have a better chance at remembering their lines, but it’s always one hell of a forty-five minute show. I think it’s Othello this time, but honestly I’d watch anything,” you rambled as you buckled your seatbelt. “It’s always good to support local art.”

“So we’re seeing Shakespeare?” John confirmed.

“It’s at the open air theatre inside the park.”

“Been a while since I went to the theatre, longer than that since I’ve been in a park.”

“What do you do in your off time?” You asked with a snort.

“Don’t get much off time,” John said easily, unbothered. It was him after all that had decided work would become his priority.

“Well then I’m glad we’re getting to see this together,” you said. “I’ve had a pretty long week too.”

“Hm?”

At his inquisitive hum you fell into complaining about your managers and the long, tiring shifts you pulled.

It didn’t take you long in the car to get to the park however and you were soon jumping out. You gaped a little when John got out and joined you at the front of the car.

“Holy hell you’re tall, shit a brick,” you said, staring. You’d noticed he was broad at the café and he seemed to fill the cab of his pick-up, but he’d been slumped and seated both times so you’d assumed he was maybe creeping just below 6’ and the rest was his attitude that made him seem all encompassing. Looking at him stood up to his full height now was something else, even as he tucked his chin down and slumped his shoulders to speak with you. “I think we’ll have to sit at the back for this or someone might complain.”

John rolled his eyes but you saw the hint of a smile play at his lips as he agreed.

You led him eagerly to the crowd you could see gathering at the entrance of the outdoor stage; the front four rows of the small open air auditorium had been unfolded for the event, suggesting the size of the crowd expected. You both elected to take a seat on the back row as others started to head to the front, but he nudged you fondly when he saw you shift excitedly waiting for it to start.

John pulled out his phone when he felt it buzz in his pocket, but put it back when he saw it was just a reminder to sort out his tux for the wedding.

“Cute pic,” you said with a sly smile when you caught his lock screen. “We should take another, might be more convincing if we have more than one photo of us doing stuff together, right?”

John leant into your side and hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, stiff where it draped over the back of your seat, for the photo.

You were no better, your smile suddenly tight at the corners as you took a quick snap. You held your breath until he moved back, his aftershave surprisingly enticing and the warmth and weight of his arm too inviting.

It wouldn’t do for you to become attracted to John, not that it was something you could control, you knew. But maybe if you just wished it hard enough it wouldn’t make the weekend away with him more difficult than it had to be; falling for a man still blatantly in love with his ex never ended well for anyone.

You smiled a little weakly at him when nudged you again, nodding at the community group making their way onto the stage in front of the clapping crowd.

Maybe attraction would be fine you decided, already knowing how impulsively forgetful and weak-willed you got when your vibrator was between your legs - you could already imagine his name slipping through loose lips, and you couldn’t blame yourself for it as you sneakily took in his side profile - just as long as there were no real feelings from your side.

---

You’d graduated from texting to calling when John mentioned one night that he found it hard to multitask while at work. You’d offered to leave him alone and talk to him once he was done later but he’d been quick to interrupt, said instead that although he couldn’t text and write at the same time, he’d be fine talking and writing.

It’s how he found himself sat at his desk with his phone propped next to him on speaker, listening to you complain about the shitty restaurants near your work.

“I need to get back into meal prepping, or at least start buying something nicer pre-made to bring for lunch. If I have to eat another Greggs meal deal I think I’ll throw up, John,” you bemoaned.

“There’s a new place just opened up ‘round the corner to you, you know?” He said, checking over his team’s reports before signing them off. At your interested hum he continued. “Greek place I think. The sergeants went the other day, said it was a good menu and they’re usually quite picky about where they spend their free time together.”

“That sounds perfect, I’ll meet you there in twenty?” You asked rhetorically, already gathering your stuff to take your lunch break. “I can order for us both in case it takes you longer so it’ll be served by time you arrive. See you in a bit, bye!” You didn’t wait for him to confirm or reply in any capacity, too excited for a delicious lunch.

John stared down at his phone where the screen fell black through lack of use at the ended call. He took a moment to recount the conversation and where he’d gotten mixed up before reluctantly dropping his pen and grabbing his coat and keys.

He stopped by Simon’s office on his way out.

“I’m heading out for a quick lunch, won’t be back in time for that meeting with Laswell after all so you’ll need to take notes.” He waited for Simon’s nod before knocking once on the doorframe in thanks and leaving.

Sure he could’ve just sent you a quick text to correct you, or rang you back to explain it was just a recommendation and he didn’t have the time to join you.

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to go eat Greek food with you until you were humming happily and rubbing your soft stomach, comfortably full on more than a lukewarm pasty and sad looking iced donut. He wanted to hear about your day at work so far and what you’d been up to with your friends on Saturday evening when your replies had slowed down.

He wanted.

It had been a long time since John had felt that way. Given most of the people he’d consider friends were people he worked with and kept their personal lives close to their chests, it wasn’t often he wanted to do much more than spend a couple hours in a pub after a rough mission with them.

You were quickly solidifying yourself a space in John’s life as a friend, whether you knew it or not. Whether you liked it or not. And as a result, he didn’t want to leave you to eat on your own knowing you to be a social butterfly, even after such a short time. John was known to be protective - some had said possessive - of those he considered his. And being his friend meant that you would given the same effort of care and consideration that he gave his team, it just needed to be applied differently.

It wouldn’t be through proud shoulder pats after a mission well-done or through unshakeable confidence and trust when he put his life on the line stood side-by-side with the 141.

No, it would be pulling up to hole in the wall restaurants last minute so that you could spend your lunch a little happier than you were when you were sat at your desk.

He found you sat at the back table, the seat facing the front windows and door left free for him to take with silent appreciation.

The food was as good as Gaz and Soap had promised it would be and the sight of you scarfing down baklava before you had to head back to work had him grinning into his glass.

“Christ, I might have to get a to-go box of this for tonight,” you groaned lowly.

“Big plans?” John asked, clearing his throat.

“Just some DIY I’ve been putting off around the house, figure if I entice myself with a treat for after it’s done I’ll be more likely to actually do it.” You go to take your last bite before pausing and pointing at John. “And before you say it, I realise it sounds like how you train a puppy.”

John snorted, but a frown pulled low on his brow. “What needs fixing?”

“My front door is scraping low when I open it, hinges are loose I think. Nothing major but I’d rather not fuck it up, you know? But if I leave it any longer then I’ll need to pay someone to deal with some real damage,” you sighed. “So I’ve borrowed my neighbour’s drill.”

“I’ll do it for ya,” John offered out of nowhere.

“What? No, you don’t have to, you’re busy,” you declined.

“It’s fine, I’ll pop by later tonight. Just let me know when you’re home and I’ll swing by and sort it.”

“I, uh, ok. Sure, thanks, John. I appreciate it,” you said with a grateful, if not bemused, smile.

---

As soon as you opened the door that evening, John noticed how the bottom caught.

“Hi, do you want a drink? A tea?” You offered as you let him in.

“I’d love one, thanks, Sunshine.” He stepped inside and placed his drill case by the doorframe.

“Oh, you brought your own drill? You didn’t have to go home for it, did you?” You fretted as you headed towards the kitchen. “Did I not mention I’d borrowed my neighbour’s?”

“You did. But this was in the back of the truck from Simon borrowing it, it’s not a big deal,” John lied. He’d stopped off to grab it after your lunch together. “Wasn’t sure what your neighbour’s drill was going to be like, but I know this’ll get the job done proper.”

You bit back an amused smile and hummed your assent down the hall as you waited for the electric kettle to boil.

“Thanks again for helping out, John. I can get by doing my own DIY usually; not to brag but I’m kind of a pro at assembling IKEA furniture. Sometimes though it helps having a second person look it over too.” You walked back to the front door as you spoke and held his tea for him as he set up the drill to match the screws in the door.

“It’s no hassle,” he said before setting to work.

A quick three minutes later your door was once again in full working order, no longer sticking when it swung open and closed.

“Good as new,” he said. You passed him his drink, still hot, and grinned, leading him to sit on the couch for a moment. “If y’need anything else fixing up or looking at, just let me know. I’d be happy to help.”

“Opened the floodgates with that offer. You’ll be regretting it soon enough,” you said with a laugh. “This place is a bit of a fixer-upper, ‘s why I could afford it in the first place.”

“You’ve done a good job with it,” he said earnestly, looking around the cosy living room. Would be better if you weren’t alone, he thought suddenly, unbidden. He took a deep sip of his drink and avoided eye contact. “I like being useful, you might as well take advantage of it since no one else is at the moment.”

You smiled softly. “That’s all the permission I need.”

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he slipped it out to see a text from his mum.

>> Make sure your date isn’t wearing white, luv. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but we wouldn’t want to spoil Charlotte’s day would we? xxx

<< Her dress is green, nothing to worry about mum. xx

>> Green is a bold choice, must be quite the lady to pull that off! Give her my love. xxx

John sighed as he put his phone down and caught your eye in his peripheral.

He smiled tiredly to ease your worried frown.

“Just my mum checking in, she gives you her love,” he said.

“Mm. She gives you a headache,” you pointed out. “Wedding shit still?”

“It’s her prime focus right now. It’ll be done soon.”

“You want a paracetamol? I’ll top up your tea.” You reached forward for his empty cup.

“Got something stronger?” John asked hopefully.

You winced. “I’ve got a gin ‘n’ tonic in a can that my friend left the other day? Can’t even offer you a strong coffee because it’s decaf.”

“Jesus,” he groaned through a laugh. “Another tea it is.”

---

The morning of the wedding came sooner than you’d expected. The dress that you’d carefully hung on your wardrobe door to avoid creases all those weeks ago would finally be put to use.

You got up early enough to get yourself ready, nervousness unsettling your stomach enough that you stuck to only a slice of toast for breakfast with a strong coffee.

>> Setting off now, I’ll be at yours in 20.

<< you mean you’ll be here by 0900 🫡

>> Funny.

>> See you soon.

You chuckled to yourself as you grabbed your things so you were ready to go when John arrived and double checked everything was locked up for the weekend.

The knock on your door had your heart jump and pound double-time in your chest before you shook your hands out and told yourself to fucking chill. It was just John.

“Hi, you ready to— oh, you look, uhm…” John trailed off as he took in the flowing silk dress you’d bought. He’d seen it before, of course, but now seeing you in it and the way it clung to your curves and highlighted your plush tummy and wide hips had his tongue heavy and lost in his mouth. He swallowed thickly as he looked back up to your face, trying not to linger on the plunged neckline and what it did for your tits, and felt his cheeks redden when he noticed your own flustered, wide-eyed look as you stood and watched him. “You look very nice,” he finished lamely.

“Right, good, thanks.” You tried to force a laugh but your throat felt too dry, even as you grinned at his red cheeks. “You clean up pretty well too,” you said instead and reached your hand out to brush against the neatened trim of his beard, his muttonchops less pronounced.

He stiffened at the unexpected touch, not disliking it, but a memory of Charlotte doing something similar had him flinching back. Charlotte, he remembered, would usually only rub at his beard with a frown and ask when he was going to go clean shaven again.

You didn’t know that however and you snatched your hand back to your side as you felt a chill drop from your chest down to your toes like a bucket of cold water. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” you apologised.

“No, it’s fine. Just caught me off guard,” he said, trying to ease your suddenly tense shoulders and cursing himself for getting lost in old memories.

He led you to the car and held open the door for you, smiling when you thanked him and tucked in your dress to avoid its long length getting trapped in the door.

Once he was sat in the drivers seat he hesitated for a moment before turning to face you.

“‘M glad you like it,” he said with a quick gesture to his beard. “I was thinking about shaving it off for the occasion.”

You winced reflexively at the thought, teeth gritted and bared as you tried to picture him without facial hair. He let out a deep rumble of a laugh, throaty and unfiltered, as you tried to square your face back to a neutral expression, though your eyebrows wouldn’t pull back from their frown.

“I’m sure that would’ve looked… sweet,” you hedged carefully.

John only snorted.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Ok I’m a terrible liar,” you started, glaring when John muttered an amused, you don’t say. “If you want to shave and like how it looks, then we can detour back to yours and I’m sure you’ll look just as handsome in whatever photos you’re forced to pose for. But if you’re asking for my opinion? Then I think this suits you better, it’s more distinguished. You’d have looked too much like a banker if you’d shaved and wore a suit,” you said with an exaggerated shiver.

John hummed a chuckle, his shoulders shaking with it. “I’m sure the word you’re thinking of rhymes with banker, Sunshine.”

It was your turn to snort a laugh at that.

“Your words, not mine, John.”

“Cheeky. Put your bloody seatbelt on,” he huffed, a smile pulling at his lips as he started the car. “Suddenly thinking this drive might feel ten times longer than usual for some reason.”

You rolled your eyes and didn’t dignify his jab with a response. Tried not to focus on your pulse racing in excitement.

masterlist

[macabr3-barbi3]

No Mercy

week 4!!! let's fucking go!!!

COME LOOK AT OUR MASTERLIST BY @synamartia IT'S GORGEOUS

SHOUT OUT TO ALL OF MY WIVES @hazelfoureyes @sugoi-writes @minkdelovely @fraugwinska (WHO MADE ALL OF MY BANNERS AND I LOVE HER AND HER LOVELY BRAIN SO MUCH)

Summary: Adam gets enough of you mouthing off during training and picks a fight. Tags: hate sex, oral sex (male receiving), fighting

You knew Adam was getting a little sick of you- but what was the point in being part of his special inner circle of angels if you couldn’t have a little fun with it?

You had mouthed off to him again, and in all honestly you felt that it was a fair question; what did he even do during the exterminations while everyone else was causing mayhem? From what you heard from the others when you joined the ranks, he usually just flitted around watching the carnage or hovered near the portal back to Heaven without contributing anything himself. So after weeks of asking during training, despite the lieutenant telling you in no uncertain terms to drop it, you finally phrased it a little differently.

“What, are you too weak to actually participate?”

You knew he wasn’t. You could see the muscles that flexed beneath his robes while he watched the girls training, the unparalleled power in his wings when he brought them out. Sometimes it just felt good to stir a reaction out of him, to have a strong emotion aimed your way from a powerful being. And yeah, maybe you were hoping a little bit that the constant questioning would eventually prompt him to give you and the rest of the girls a show- you weren’t the only one that thought your commander was sexy as sin, and a casual show of strength would send everyone through the roof.

Perhaps this was a step too far though.

Lute audibly gasped, as did the rest of your squadron. “Recruit, that is unacceptable,” she hissed, and took a step forward to reprimand you when a large hand on her shoulder stopped her in her place.

“Relax, Danger Tits. I’ll handle it. All of you- clear out.” His mask is calm, aloof, but you can see the twitch of the graphics on his eyes that betray his true emotions. He was pissed.

With no one else daring to question him, everyone including Lute was gone in seconds, leaving only you and Adam on the mats of the training room. He slowly strips his robes off, a simple white tanktop and sweatpants underneath his holy getup. You might have drooled a little at the sight of his bare skin, tendons tensing beneath the surface as he drops the clothing and stretches; he was built like a fucking bear, all compact muscle and wiry hair along his chest and arms, the hint of a stubbly shadow that peeked out beneath the edges of his mask.

You’re distracted from your observation of him when he tosses a spear your way- not one of the official, angelic spears, but the shitty ones used for training. His own hands were empty. “You think I’m weak? Alright, bitch, you fucking asked for it. Come at me.”

You stutter backwards a step, having expected some yelling; not a challenge. “What?”

“You fucking heard me. Swing the goddamn spear.”

Normally you would balk at such a demand- Lute would have your ass if she knew you had swung on Adam even in a joking manner. But Adam looked like he meant business, and he was technically a higher ranking commanding officer than Lute, so…

You swing the spear at him the way you had been taught to take down larger demons- aim for extremities to disarm first, and then go for a killing blow. He dodges with a simple turn of his heel, using his fingers in a ‘come on’ motion and urging you to swing again. But as soon as the spear is within Adam’s reach he has a hold of it, tugging hard from the tip- the force of the action drags you closer to him so he can spew bullshit at you. “You think I’m fucking weak?” He presses a finger to your shoulder and pushes, sending you tumbling back and tripping over yourself to the floor. His grip on the spear tightens with a sickening crunch before he lets it clatter to the ground looking like kindling. “Me? I’m the whole reason you’re here, bitch, and you think you have any business to fucking question me?” He squares his feet, arms lifted in front of him like a shield. “Come on! You’re tough enough to talk all this shit but you won’t actually fight? I’ll kick you off the squad right fucking now.”

You get up and charge him, managing to get one blow between his arms against his chest before he’s laughing and shoving you back again to land hard on your ass. Again, and this time you don’t even get a hit in before he pushes back and you fall. Again. Again. He shows you no mercy every time he knocks you to your ass, laughing like it’s a game and hardly even using his strength to push you around. You climb to your feet this time, and the first true whisper of anger curls around your head like smoke to combat the faint heat you feel at being the sole focus of his attention with no one else around to witness it. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, while your breath was coming hard, sweat dripping down your face from the exertion. You feel your face set into a snarl as you rush him this time, swinging a leg instead of your fist and aiming below the belt.

Bad sportsmanship maybe, but so was laughing in your face every time you failed to strike him.

It doesn’t matter- he catches your leg behind the knee like he had caught the spear, pulls you closer in a similar fashion, and wraps a hand around your throat. His wings open up behind him, and in a move so quick you’re not entirely sure how it happened, he’s managed to flip the pair of you into the air and slam you hard into the ground.

The air is knocked out of you, something not helped by the hand that rests on your airways, and the motion has dislodged Adam’s mask- he shakes his head to fling it off, and you’re greeted with his actual face, scruffy and rugged and too handsome for how close your bodies are- and you were right about how easy this was for him, not the slightest hint of moisture along his hairline. Adrenaline courses in your veins, demanding movement and action that you can’t attempt with Adam’s weight settled on top of you, still holding the leg he had caught at an uncomfortable angle hear his hip. It mixes dangerously with the arousal you’ve felt this entire time, making you want to do something stupid and telling like rubbing yourself against one of his thick thighs while he squeezed softly at your neck.

“Low blow to go for my dick,” he admonishes as he lets go of your leg and it slams back to the ground. “All that trash you talk and look how fucking easy it was to get you pinned under me. Still think I’m fucking weak?” His fingers flutter around your throat as he repositions, the action sending a blush racing to your face and spreading to your collarbone. He doesn’t miss it, a cruel smirk taking over his handsome features while he looks down at you. “So that’s the deal, huh? You just wanted a fucking excuse for me to manhandle you a little bit? You kinky bitch.”

“Fuck you,” you snap at him, trying to turn your blushing face away, and he releases a single finger from the grip around your neck to dig into your cheek and turn you back to face him. The move is such a casual show of his strength that it makes you swallow hard, unable to clench your thighs together with him between them.

“You wish,” he laughs, his eyes bright and mischievous, and he uses his free hand to grab the length of his cock through his sweatpants, a dark patch where the tip rested against the fabric. “Shit, knowing you’re getting off on this is hot as fuck- but being a mouthy brat doesn’t get you fucking rewarded, so here’s what we’re gonna do.” He finally releases your throat, allowing you to suck in a lung full of air while he stands before he offers a hand to you. He only helps you up from the mat as far as your knees before he pulls away, crossing his arms over his burly chest. “You’re either gonna leave- and stop fucking questioning me during training, or I really will kick you off the team- or you’re gonna put that fucking mouth of yours to good use for once."

Like there was any question about that. 

You settle more comfortably onto your knees and wait, but he doesn’t do anything more than pulling his waistband down below his cock and stroking it in front of you. And fuck, it was going to be a generous mouthful, the girth of him impressive even in Adam’s huge hands, if he ever got around to doing anything about it. “Are you going to do something with that,” you snark, and his eyes narrow. “Or do you have to wait for the women in your life to do everything for you-”

He takes the opportunity your open mouth presents him and thrusts his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, triggering the muscles there to clench hard before he retreats until just the tip is left in your mouth. “I was hoping you’d take some fucking initiative,” he snaps, “but I guess just like with the fighting you’re all bark and no bite. If you want me to just use you like a fucking slut then that’s what I’ll do.”

He applies the slightest bit of pressure to the hinge of your jaw to get you to open up wider, and this time his entry is slow and controlled as he fills your mouth with the heavy weight of his cock, the taste of him salty and dark across your tongue. You moan around him, the sound unable to escape with how fully he takes up the space between your lips, and the vibrations make his hips jerk.

You reach a hand up to wrap around the substantial length that you don’t have in the wet cavern of your mouth yet, and he reprimands you with a harsh tug on your hair. When you glare up at him, he smirks; his golden eyes are a little glazed over, a flushed tint to his cheeks. “No fucking hands,” he tells you. “You got yourself into this with just your mouth, that’s how you’re gonna get out of it, too.” He keeps his grip on your locks to guide your head, pulling you further down onto his cock with a guttural groan tearing from his throat. Your own throat tenses at the intrusion, a blockage of your air from the inside rather than the out, and your eyes water at the strain of trying to breathe through your nose before he pulls out enough that you can breathe again.

It’s so fucking good. You don’t think he would react kindly to you slipping a hand under your training shorts so you refrain from doing so, instead simply rocking your hips against nothing while you let him use you to take out his frustrations- fair enough, since you had caused them.

Adam keeps a steady rhythm while he fucks your face, your mouth open and lax for him to use as he pleases; only occasionally does he push in a little further, letting the head of his cock dip into the wet clutch of your throat and bump against your soft palate. “That’s fucking right,” he pants as he notices the tears that stream down your cheeks- he uses the thumb of the hand still holding your mouth open to brush an errant drop away from your cheekbone. “You look good like this- fuck, I would have let you choke on my cock sooner if I knew that’s what was gonna finally shut you the fuck up.” You feel the thick vein along the bottom of his length jump with his words where it rubs against your tongue and you know he’s close, the thought of it making you whine around him.

He grunts at the feeling, hips losing their steady movements and his hand tightening in your hair, yanking your head forward and back over him- and then he pulls completely out suddenly, his fist clenched tight around the base of his cock. “Say you fucking want it,” he demands, tugging your hair so your heads tilts enough that you have nowhere to look but at him. Sweat drips down his forehead and chest, darkening the fabric of his shirt so you can see the coarse hair beneath it. “Say you want my cum and maybe I’ll give it to you, even though you don’t fucking derserve it. Come on.” He bumps the head of his cock against your lips and your tongue darts out to greet it, the shock of salt across your tongue enough to break your resolve. 

“Please,” you whisper desperately, your voice raspy and rough from how long Adam had been at it. “Fuck, please, Adam-”

“You gonna stop fucking talking back to me? Questioning me?” His hand resumes a slow stroke, the tip glistening with fluid that drips onto the mats below you when he pulls away from your eager tongue.

Fuck no. Not when this was the result it got you. “Not in front of the rest of the squad?” You offer as a compromise, and you can see him considering it before he relents. He wanted your mouth back on him more than he wanted a promise of peace- and honestly, you think he kind of likes the sass.

He parts your lips with his prick again, pushing deep with a single thrust. “I’ll take it,” he groans, and his hips are pistoning once again, not being as careful about not choking this time as he chases his release with the slick hole your mouth provides him. “Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum- fuck, yes-”

He swells in your mouth and spills himself. There’s a couple hot pulses of spend that shoot down your throat and coat your tongue, the last couple of shots streaking across your face and lips when he pulls back, still fisting his cock to coax the last drops out and onto your lips.

The taste is thick and bitter, lingering long after you’ve swallowed. But you’ve never been so turned on in your life, the ache between your thighs transforming into an inferno at the look he gives you, still rocking your hips against the air. He drops to his knees on the mat with you, shoving his hand under the waistband of your training shorts and tracing the folds of your pussy with his thick fingers. “Fuck me, that’s hot,” he mutters. “You got like this just letting me toss you around and suck me off, huh? You want my fingers?” You nod, face flaming, and he brushes the pad of a digit across your clit, your hips jolting. “You want my cock?”

“Please,” you murmur, the sound soft, your head dropping onto his shoulder. “Please, Adam.”

His head turns, lips against your ear as he whispers- “that’s too fucking bad.” And then his hand is yanking out of your shorts and he’s standing, the movement dislodging your head against his shoulder and tipping you sideways onto the mat. From your vantage point on the floor, you see that cocky smirk of his is back in place despite the sweat that drips from his hairline, the flush of his cheeks after a damn good orgasm. “Fucking told you in the beginning that being a mouthy brat doesn’t get rewarded- you have fun taking care of that yourself.” He points finger-guns towards your shorts before bringing the hand he had dipped into your panties to his mouth, and the sputter of indignation you manage doesn’t get much farther than your throat as he sucks your slick from his digits with a mean wink. “Let’s try this again sometime when you learn how to show some respect to your fucking superiors.”

By the time you’ve managed to get yourself back into a somewhat upright position, he’s scooped his mask and robes off the floor and flown out of the training room. The slam of the door echoes in the now empty space, along with your frustrated groan as you fall onto your back.

[unfriedough]

Hi super sorry if your request aren’t open.

I had this thought about Zuko x waterbending reader and maybe they could be related to Hama (like a grandma or something) and r basically it’s difficult to explain but Zuko and reader started dating after the war and he tries really hard to get Hamas approval because he’s from the fire nation and Hama ends up sorta accepting him but is still hella weary about him

‘Dinner’- Zuko x female!reader

An: HIYA! So as to not be annoying I’m leaving my lil disappearance explanation at the bottom, enjoy 🫶

(As usual, thank you for your request and patience it means a lot ���)

Warnings: fighting/agression but it’s brief dw (this is also a very short piece)

You smiled as a candle flickered in your room, kicking your feet as you read a letter your boyfriend, Zuko, wrote to you. He detailed in it his most recent endeavours as a fire lord, as well as affirmed that he could in fact come for a visit. You had been planning to move to his palace soon, as per his request, but he was afraid your grandmother, Hama, a ruthless fire nation hating blood bender who might just hate Zuko, would not be on board. You decided the easiest way was to have them both over for food, and you’d prepared a huge feast of different delicacies of both nations. Zuko was meant to arrive in about an hour, and Hama was already down stairs washing up. She vaguely knew you were going to introduce her to someone, just not entirely aware of who. You shoved the scroll into another backpack you packed for your move, which was supposed to take place a week from now if all goes well.

You walked over to the window sill and sat on a cushion you placed on the protruding wooden part, sighing. You wandered in an endless maze of thoughts, until a face appeared in front of you. You squeaked, almost falling backwards but you caught yourself. Shaking your head, you unlocked the window and pulled zuko in.

“Dude?” You questioned, pulling him in for a hug.

He smelled like the sea, you noted, originally expecting the smell of a certain beast on him.

“Sorry- I got nervous,” you giggled, pinching his pouty cheeks.

He grinned, dipping you into a passionate kiss that screamed ‘I miss you’ in every language. His hand trailed to your back, and yours his hair. Just as things began to escalate, the door swung open.

“YN!”

Immediately, you pushed him away, and he stumbled backwards. Both your eyes landed on your grandma, who was as pale as a ghost.

“I can explain!”

“What kind of nonsense is this?”

Zuko was frozen, from the long list of things that could've gone wrong, this did not even make the top one hundred list.

“Grandma, this is Zuko,” you calmed down, “My boyfriend,”

He snapped out of his trance and extended an arm to shake with her. She walked out, leaving a small stone to prevent the door from closing again.

“Sorry about her,” you groaned, embarrassed that she left him hanging.

He retreated his arm, shoving it into his pocket, “She already thinks I suck. It’s over.”

“It’s okay she’s easy to win over,” you smiled sweetly, contrasting the lies that currently fled your lips.

Stiff, awkward, weird… all of the above.

You couldn’t relax for this dinner, things were so tense after what just happened. He didn’t even get to say hello before she saw his tongue down your throat and now she probably is a hair away from blood bending him into a ball. And he could tell she hated him- when he asked you to pass him a spoon she threw it at him. She missed…

“So, why don’t you tell her about yourself Zuko,” you broke the silence.

His eyes widened, suddenly being put on the spot, “Well I-uh-um-“ he coughed.

“He helped the avatar end a hundred year war,” you chimed in.

“Yeah so he can start a 200 year war all on his own,” she remarked, glaring at him. “All fire folks are the same,”

“Gram, give him a chance, he’s trying his best,” you held his hand over the table, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles.

Suddenly, a fork came hurling at you, and when you both dodged your hands away, you found it embedded in the table.

“Right…” you breathed out.

She stood up abruptly, folding her arms, “Yn, come outside, now,”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, looking back at Zuko with a worried expression.

You shut the creaky wooden door behind you and adjusted your garments as you stood by here on the patio.

“A fire nation boy?”

“He’s different… he’s not what you think he is,”

“That’s what they all say Yn, he’s bad news.”

“What about him is bad news?”

“Everything. Especially the fact that he’s a ticking time bomb.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Are you forgetting his past? He attacked the avatar!” Your eyes widened, “That’s right, I did my research… I know every little thing he did and so help me if you dare leave this house with him I will make sure that’s the last time either of you see each other.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Who’s gonna stop me?”

Your eyes brimmed with tears- it was one thing to ban you from seeing him, but a completely other thing to treat you like a child. You were old enough to make these decisions on your own. You huffed, storming back inside and waltzing into your bedroom, slamming the door with a lot of force.

Hama sat back down at the table, smiling before she flipped it onto Zuko. He gasped, standing up quickly to avoid being crushed. She stomped around the table and got up in his face, grabbing the collar of his shirt. She was surprisingly strong for her ancient age.

“What do you want from her?”

“To be with her,”

“Why?”

“Because I love her,”

“WHY?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?”

She pushed him onto the ground, lifting her arm as if about to bloodbend him. He’d heard the tales of what she was capable of from his friends, and he felt his heart drop.

Zuko froze, waiting, shielding himself and closing his eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna firebend?” She asked, a bitter sounding tone.

“No.”

Just then, you exited your room, finally having collected your bearings. There, you found Zuko almost curled up on himself, and Hama glaring at him. He breathed heavily, and she looked as if a blood vessel was about to pop. You immediately rushed to his side, helping him up to his feet and checking him for wounds. He was fine of course.

Your hand brushed against his cheek and he closed his eyes, humming, “I’m fine,”

“What did you do?” You yelled, looking at the old lady.

“I tested him.”

You laughed sarcastically, “And did he pass,”

“With flying colours,” 2 out of 3 pairs of eyebrows flew upwards, you and Zuko exchanged glances. “For now,”

After a bit of cleaning up, you finished the night with Zuko in your bedroom, sitting at your desk.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, leaning against the table.

“If she doesn’t even want me near you, how on Earth are you going to move in with me?”

“That’s… that’s a great question.”

An: OKAY SO idek where to start I basically obv got back to school and I had exams and then even MORE EXAMS coming up (send help) BUUUT I mainly just lost my spark and interest in writing but it feels wrong to continue to ignore my inbox so I’m gonna try my best to clear it soon. If you have requested I’m genuinely so so sorry it’s taken this long I’m sure you’re mad at me but hopefully not too mad don’t hate me okay bye love you 🩷

[avxtarlz]

Not such an Amazing Night || Luke Castellan x Athena Child! Fem Reader

Summary: After you and Luke snuck out of Camp trying to have an amazing date night wanting some time alone. Some unexpected Monsters Came to ruin it.

————-

You guys are probably gonna get in trouble when you head back to camp.

“You don’t think Chiron will notice we’re gone?” You said walking the Streets of New York City beside Luke hand in hand. “Mm Nah, I mean Annabeth is covering for us. So I wouldn’t worry about it.” He smiled as he looked at you. Since you were the Child of Athena it meant Annabeth was your sister. She had your back and you had hers. You both were family.

“Good, I just want this night to be just you and me.” You squeezed his hand smiling. After walking in and out of some stores getting some merchandise You and Luke felt hungry and decided to stop by a restaurant and Eat.

Walking out of the restaurant giggling and making jokes your smile faded as you felt weirded out. Luke noticed your presence as he got worried. “Y/n you okay?” He suddenly felt what you were feeling. As Luke says You and Annabeth were always 6 steps ahead. You started to look around to see any strange things. So did Luke. “Luke, I think we should head back.” You grabbed his arm and started to fast walk away from the strange place. You let go of him looking back to see him still following.

“What do you think it is?” Luke questioned as he started to look around at his surroundings to see if anything were following us. You heard his remark ad you looked behind and looked at him still walking. “I don’t know but I don’t like the feeli-“ “Y/N!” as you were about to finish the sentence you were lifted in the air and pushed into an alley. You got up quickly and took the knife out of your waist belt. You looked up see a Furie. You quickly threw the knife plunging it into its chest. It now screeched as it turned into gold dust.

Luke was now running towards you, as he was infront of you as he cupped your face and searched if there were any Marks on your face. “Luke I’m fine. I promise” you reassured him. You placed your hand of top of his smiling. As you both were starring at each other you heard a landing thump behind Luke. You quickly pushed him aside to see what it was. Great, you thought. It was Alecto. Your biggest enemy since you were a child. You remember her targeting you and Annabeth when you both were little. Now landing beside her was her sister. Tisiphone.

“Cmon. Can we not do this right now?” You asked annoyed. You heard a chuckle beside you “Guess not?” as you turned to see Luke smirking as he leaned down and unsheate a small dagger from his converse shoes. You looked at him confused. “You always carry a dagger in your shoes?” He now looked at you “don’t you carry one?” You looked forward at the fury’s “That’s fair.”

“Two Demi-gods.” Tisiphone said. Alecto sniffed the air showing off her long claws. “Hmmm Heremes kid and…Athena’s Offspring…” She now looked at you. As if she wanted to kill you and which she probably did. She put her hand up and pointed to you. “I’ll have that one.” She smirked showing off her sharp edged teeth. You gripped your dagger hard. This ends tonight. For you and Annabeth.

The furies screeched a they flew up in the air. Luke had worn his shoes his father gave him and used them. “Maia…” as he said those words he now flew up to Alecto’s sister fighting. As you were distracted by Luke knowing he was okay you were now pinned to a concrete wall. You coughed as air was taken out of you. You couldn’t move since she had your arm pinned. Your knife fell to the ground from the impact. She was about to claw your face as Tisiphones body slammed into Her. You fell to the ground as you grabbed your knife and ran to her. Tisiphone left to charge at Luke. While you were now dodging hits from Alecto. You were the best at hand to hand combat. Luke taught you back at camp. You both were the best of the best you could say.

As you were blowing hits on her and making marks on her she hit you with a powerful push slamming you against the concrete wall. You felt your ribs shatter as you looked up to see Alecto walking up to you, You tried to reach for your knife as she grabbed your face with her long claws. She moved your head to face her. “Tsk Tsk, your mother would be very disappointed Y/N.” She inched her face closer to you. You were breathing hardly as you tried to reach for your spare knife that Annabeth always told you to carry.

I’ll Thank Annabeth for that! “ well, your still that scared little girl I always used to go after all those years ago. Sorry it has to end like this.” She smiled as she raised her hand to make a blow at you. “ I’m. Not. little!” You grabbed your Knife and plunged it to her Back. She screeched as she got up and started to turn into dust. Making Your knife fall to the ground . You got up slowly as your started to crawl to your dagger your Mom Gifted you. As you were staring at it you felt a presence behind you. You quickly grabbed the knife and turned around and pointed to whoever it was.

Your body suddenly stopped being tense as you saw it was only Luke. Who was now all bloody and scratched. He lifted his hands up as if he’s surrendering. “Heyy, it’s me.” As he saw you put down the knife he put his hand infront of you. You looked up at him as you grabbed his arm and he lifted you up. You were groaning for the pain in your ribs. “You alright?” He sounded concerned, you nodded “yeah I’m fine. Wasn’t this a good night out?” You smiled as you grabbed your waist and grabbed his hand walking side by side again walking out back on the streets and back to camp.

Worst date night ever.

—————-

“Shhhh!” You said crouching down shushing Luke for stepping on a stick. “I’m sorry!” He whispered cringing at the sound. You guys were trying to sneek back in Camp. All the lights were off so you both were clear. So you guys thought. “Stop it right there you two .” A deep rusky voice spoke behind you both. You shut your eyes and gritted your teeth and put your head down so did Luke who just turned around.

“Chiron.” Luke waved at him. “Both of you in my office now.” Chiron said sternly.

Let’s just say cleaning the bathroom toilets for the whole summer with your boyfriend is not what you expected as your punishment.

——————

________

[simp4wom3n]

Embarrassed and Adorable

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request @the-night-owl-blr

Summary: After a day of relaxing together, Y/n mindlessly scrolls through TikTok as Jenna gets ready for bed, where to their amusement, they find Jenna’s old musical.lys. ~ Word Count: 889 ~ Warnings: none just very fluffy

A/N: Hi!! This one is a bit shorter than my others but hopefully you guys still like it. I’m getting a move on with the requests do not fear <3

It was times like these that you loved.  You and your girlfriend Jenna, both finally having days off work, lounged around the house all day refusing to leave each others side as you spent time together that you would typically spend far apart. You watched movies, you cuddled, you danced, you laughed, you baked. You did everything a girl could want, especially if it was with the love of you life.

Sadly, the day was slowly coming to an end. The subtle glow of the moon reflected through the windows of your bedroom, dimly lit by a lamp on your bedside table, where you lay on your shared bed, scrolling on TikTok as you waited for Jenna to getting ready for bed. You had only gone on the app to distract yourself from your girlfriend's brief absence, only to have that absence filled in in a way you weren’t expecting. While scrolling through your usual content, you came across a video of Jenna, but it wasn't one of the thirst traps or edits you'd seen so many times before; it was an old video of her from musical.ly. It was, in fact, her entire old account.

'No way,' you mumbled under your breath as your lips cracked into a warm smile. You couldn't help but chuckle at your discovery, filling the once quiet room with your laughter. “What���s so funny” you hear Jenna ask innocently from the bathroom. “Just TikTok” you snicker earning a hum in return. You were sure you'd be doubled over laughing if you weren't lying down on your stomach.

Scrolling through her videos, you were introduced to a younger Jenna who you regrettably never had the opportunity to meet. It felt like you were watching an entirely different person, one you were still very much in love with and makes you laugh harder than you ever had before. Some of them in particular made you laugh so hard that you gave up attempting to suppress your amusement. Jenna could hear the echo of your laughter from her place in front of the mirror, busy taking off her makeup. Jenna adored the sound of your laughter. The sound alone could brighten her mood instantly. Her adoration also meant that she was very curious at to what was causing the heavenly sound.

Dressed in only underwear and an oversized top - looking as beautiful as ever you might add - Jenna finally comes into the bedroom following the melodic sounds of your laugh. “Ok what on earth is so funny” shes questions looking at you amused, trying to at least hear what’s got you so entertained. She finally recognizes the sound playing repeatedly as she circles the room to her side of the bed to charge her phone, even though it wasn't what she expected.

“Is that one of the sounds from when musical.ly was a thing?” she chuckles brushing away the hair that framed her face as she tries to sneak a look at your phone. You quickly roll onto your back, hiding your screen on your chest, looking at her cheekily as she feigns offence. “Not just any musical.lys” you confess giving her a knowing look. After a few moment of her staring at you in confusion, you decide to help her out by turning your phone around so she can see.

Met with a video of her old self, Jenna’s mouth drops as she looks at you in horror, her cheeks ablaze as she tries to grab the phone from your hand. “Not happening” you giggle as retract your phone, dodging her hand and laughing at how adorable she looks when she’s embarrassed.

“Stop. Give me your phone. Y/n I swear…” she objects climbing on top of you whilst you just continue to laugh your head off. “Give me it” “Nuh uh” “Y/n I swear to god” “Come get it then”. She keeps tackling you and climbing all over you as the two of you roll around on the bed, your shared laughter reverberating off the walls. You manage to keep your phone away from her for a decent amount of time however you eventually give up trying to defend it as she straddles you and pins you to the bed.

She snatches it from your grip with a victorious smirk, “Never again” she giggles. You're so out of breath from laughing that you just lie there and stare at her, a huge grin on your face. Eventually craving more of her touch, you raise yourself to meet Jenna's eye level while she is still on top of you. You always admired her appearance just before bed. No makeup, no extravagant outfits, just Jenna. With a cheesy smile, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her back down onto the bed.

As she continues to lie on top of you, you gently take your phone from her hand and set it down on your nightstand before turning back to her. “You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed” you whisper, your lip’s upturned in amusement as you place a small kiss on her head. “Shut up” she murmurs with a small chuckle into your chest as she snuggles closer. Turning off the lamp, you wrap your arms around her, exhaling in content as you stroke her back softly. “I love you” “I love you too”.

———————————————taglist——————————————

@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805

[otakubimbo]

You Don't Know Me

Gojo realizes that he can't just act however he wants to. Will there be a way to mend your hurt feelings?

no curse AU

previous | next

masterlist

As Suguru went back to his shared apartment with Satoru, wondering what the hell could be going on. He was just hoping it was a coincidence that you were crying and Satoru sending that SOS message. Unfortunately, as he arrived home to find Satoru with his head in his hands, looking the most stressed he has every seen him, it was no coincidence. Oh, this had to be had.

“What did you do?” Were the first words to leave Sugurus lips as he approached his best friend.

“It was just a misunderstanding really, how the hell was I supposed to know?!” Satoru responded extremely flustered, now standing up pacing trying to explain himself but not really making any sense.

Suguru couldn’t make sense of what he was saying but he did notice that Satorus eye was, black? And he also had a tissue hanging from his nose as if he had a nose bleed.

“Dude, chill out for a second, what the hell happened to your face?” Suguru questioned as he grabbed a hold of his pacing friend.

“She punched me” He huffed as if it was more of an annoyance than anything but the look of his face says way more than that.

“That was one hell of a punch, it seems.  What did you do to deserve this?” Suguru examines his face moving it left and right in his hands.  Satoru snatches his head back in frustration.

“You just have to help me fix this alright!” Satoru exclaims dodging the question as if it meant no importance.

“Satoru, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the hell happened”

He groans in response, frustrated with the situation and himself forgetting about his injury and slapping a hand over his face. Immediately, he yells in pain making Suguru sigh, making his way into the kitchen to get ice for the swelling and some meds for the pain knowing he didn’t take any. It was obvious Suguru wasn’t going to get what happened out of Satoru.

Once that name left your lips, Satoru Gojo, Shoko demanded that you stay at her place and that she would be right back, almost leaving you speechless by the way she was moving so quickly, wanting to call after her as she slammed the door behind her.

 Immediately after her exit, her fingers dialed Geto’s number, knowing Gojo the coward wouldn’t answer if she called.

“Where is he?” She says calmly into the phone, knowing that Geto knew exactly what she meant because there was no reason for him to run out of her place unless there was a reason unless he knew the reason.

“Shoko, calm down. He knew he fucked up. He’s literally spiraling right now, hasn’t shut up about wanting to fix it since I got through the door” He attempts to pacify her, knowing that she doesn’t get angry often but when she does, it’s never a good thing.

“Do you even know what he did Suguru?”  Shoko almost laughed.

“Do you really think she was in tears over that? Ask him exactly what he said. I’m sure you saw the black eye too. Ask him why she did that!  You saw her, you’ve talked to her, you know that’s not her to just punch someone for no reason.” She took a drag of her cigarette, she wasn’t one to really correct the behaviors of her friends, but this was different, he went too far.

  It was dead silent on the other end of the line Geto must have put the phone on mute, attempting to get some type of answer out of their mutual friend.

Geto got back on the line, she could hear Gojo in the background trying to explain himself without taking any actual accountability for what he did.

 “He won't exactly tell me, he’s been dodging since I asked him earlier and still won’t tell me what he said” Geto sighs, “I’ll keep him here until you get here”

Shoko hung up immediately, walking her way towards their apartment pulling out another cigarette. When she arrived, she banged on the door, still furious at the audacity of her friend. She knew that Satoru could be an asshole, she knew he was arrogant but she at least thought he was above this. Geto opens the door, immediately stepping out of her way and she pushes herself in. His face was swollen, and his lip was busted a bit at the side, you really got him good with that punch, Shoko almost smiled to herself at his appearance.

“Geto told you, she came to my apartment crying?” she asks nonchalantly.

“He didn’t say she was crying” Gojo tries to defend himself.

“Well, she was. Do you want to tell Suguru what you said to her or should I because she told me? Ya, I knew you were taking organic chem this semester, but I didn’t know it was her class. I should of assumed when she told me some arrogant asshole tried to make himself her tutor.”

“She told you about that?”

“Of course she did, she’s my friend. So are you going to tell him or am I?”

Gojo looks down silent, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

“Satoru” She says plainly waiting on if he’s going to answer or not. He doesn’t, simply looking down ashamed. Disgusting. “Well Suguru,” Shoko says turning her attention to the other man in the room, “ Our dear Satoru, told my friend that there was no way that someone who looks like her could get a better grade than him and then asked her if she slept with the professor because it didn’t make sense.”

“I didn’t know she was that smart, how could I?!.” He again tries to defend himself.

“That’s not the point, Satoru.” Shoko states plainly, “She’s going to be pissed at me saying this but I want you to feel even worse. You know she has a learning disability, right? She records all her lectures and takes her notes afterward. And those doodles you mocked, are usually part of her notes, and diagrams. That’s just how her brain works. Do you know how many nights she’s had me stay up with her while she studied and took notes from her lectures because she needs a body double? You don’t know her, and you owe her an apology actually more than that. And you know what makes this even worse is that she feels bad for hitting you, she feels bad for what she said but I think you deserved more than what she did. This is disappointing Satoru”

Shoko doesn’t even give him the time to speak before getting up to leave.

“I’ll come with you,” Geto says following behind Shoko.

 “Wait” Satoru yells before they both leave, he bends to grab your notebook off the table. He had already looked through it and Shoko was right, your notes were extensive but they were so easy to comprehend and organized. It made sense on how you got such good grades. “She dropped her notebook, can you give it back to her?”

“Yeah” Shoko says before snatching it from his hands, “I’m sure she doesn’t want to see your face anyways”

Shoko and Suguru then left, leaving Satoru with his thoughts and his shame.

Once Shoko got back to her apartment, she caught you in her kitchen making yourself a drink. Well, it was your third drink but who was counting?

“Are you okay ?” Shoko asks when she sees you in the kitchen.

“Yeah I’m okay, thanks for letting me stay here for awhile. I’ll be out your hair.” You say before you down the drink you just made.

“No, no, stay. Just hang here its cool.” She says as you see Geto come in behind her.

“Hey” Geto says awkwardly coming behind Shoko.

“Oh hey Geto, you can call me y/n since you kind of were part of my little breakdown. Ya knows. Feels like we crossed a point” You laugh nervously still holding the empty glass in your hand.

“Then call me Suguru then.” He says with a small smile.

“Okay” you begin to make yourself another drink, something to calm your still going nerves.

 “Yall want one?” You question them as you still pour enough for all of you, they nod in response as you continue to make the drinks.

“Here” you hand them both a glass, going back to get yours from the counter taking a seat on next to Shoko, leaning against her.

“What is this?” Suguru asks looking at the drink.

“Oh, it’s called liquid marijuana. I took a bartending class online before.” You as you take a sip of your drink.  

“Oh, you smoke?” He asks as the answer should be yes.

Before you could answer Shoko speaks up teasing you, “No she doesn’t, she’s such a nerd about smoking. No cigarettes, no weed, nothing.”

“It’s not like that!” You defend yourself, “I just never have before and Shoko's idea of trying to get me high for the first time is putting a gas mask on me and that’s just insane to me.” You huff, hugging the pillow you sat down with making Suguru burst into laughter.

“You’re funny, you really are” Suguru says wiping away a small tear and taking an Altoid case out of his pocket. “You wanna try something less extreme?”

You straighten yourself; you were going to prove that you weren’t such a nerd as Shoko claims even though you knew she was joking, partially, “Sure that’s fine. I’m down.”

Shoko raises an eyebrow at you, and you just elbow her. “I am down! I’m sorry if I don’t want to try weed for the first time as if I’m going to war and my death is imminent.”

Both Shoko and Suguru laugh at this.

“Why haven’t you introduced us before? You knew I met her!” Suguru asks as he starts to roll up a joint.

“Because you're a boy, and this is a girls-only friendship,” Shoko claims leaning into you, making you giggle.

“She just knows I’m not the best socially…. I’m a bit shy. If it wasn’t for my bad directional skills, I would have never even talked to Shoko in the first place.”  You say as you nervously take a sip from your cup.

“Yes, BUT once you get to know you, you’re so cool and smart and funny.” She tries to encourage you, “and hot which is why I didn’t want my horny man friends to know about you.”

“Speaking of, “Suguru starts as he finishes rolling the joint, “I’m sorry about Satoru.”

“His actions are his own, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” You say looking down into your cup, not wanting anyone’s pity.

“I know but that’s my best friend and I feel responsible for him,” He says seriously.

“Suguru, please don’t worry about it. It’s on him. And I know the way that I look, I get it. I don’t really give off smart.” You say with a bit of sadness in your voice.

“Don’t you start.” Shoko says sternly, “He’s stupid and there’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”

“There isn’t, you are hot, but I know you’re really smart. Probably smarter than me but I would never admit that.” Suguru says sincerely but still with a joking tone at the end which makes you giggle a little feeling a bit lighter.

“Alright, let’s smoke!” Suguru pulls out his lighter and hands the joint to you.

“yeah, I don’t know how to do this exactly.” You look confused at it handing it back. Suguru rolls his eyes playfully.

“Alright, I’ll blow it in your face and just breathe in okay?” He says lighting the joint, and you nod nervously.  He inhales deeply, the smoke filling his cheeks, then grabs the back of your neck pulling your lips dangerously close to his and exhaling. You instinctually breathed in as he instructed, hearing Shoko giggle behind the both of you, looking to see if she took a picture.

“And I’m posting this on IG,” She says with a smirk.

“Wait I need to approve before, hold on.” You say reaching up to grab her phone, but she holds it up from you.

“Alright alright, I’ll show you.”

She shows you the picture, luckily you did successfully fix your face while Shoko was gone. The picture was cute, Suguru was holding the back of your neck while your eyes were closed, and your lips were pushed out to inhale. It was cute, it looked a bit intimate but cute, nonetheless.

“Acceptable. It does look like we would be kissing if there wasn’t smoke which I’m not a fan of but I do look really cute.” You say with a giggle.

“Fine, I'll just post it just to my  story then,” Shoko says before posting it.

“Wait, you don’t have a girl that’s going to try to fight me for this do you?” You ask nervously turning to Suguru.

“Even if I did, I saw what you did to Satoru’s face, you’ll be fine” he jokes as he takes his hit before leaning up to hand it to Shoko.

“Is it that bad?” You ask biting the side of your thumb nervously.

“Oh yeah, he’s probably gonna have to wear shades for a week or two.” Suguru relaxes on the couch. The look on your face surprises Suguru because you look like you feel bad, “don’t you dare feel bad, he deserved that.”

“If you say so” you reply with a huff flopping down next to him as Shoko hands the joint back to you. You took a small puff and immediately started coughing, making Shoko take it back,

“Alright, maybe smoking really isn’t for you.” She says taking a small hit, “alright my turn then. Inhale deep alright.”

You nod as Shoko takes a way bigger hit than Suguru did, she does the same grabbing your face and blowing it basically into your mouth. Of course, Suguru took his one pic to post to IG, tagging both you and Shoko with the caption ‘I got girls kissing girls’.  You got the notification almost instantly on your phone since you were tagged.

“Oh Suguru I didn’t know you followed me on IG.” You say before going to follow him back and then going to look at the picture he tagged you in. “You’re funny for that caption playboy.” You giggle at him.

“Just thought it was appropriate” He shrugs.

“It wasn’t” you giggle, posting the post to your own story. Your spirits were definitely lifted, and you’ve never been high before but you were enjoying it so far.

“So…. How did you land such a good hit on Satoru” Suguru asks as he takes his own hit.

“I'm a kick boxer and a third-degree black belt.” You say so casually that it has Suguru blinking at you as if you had two heads. “What?”

“So let me get this straight, you’re practically a genius, hot, and you can kick ass?”

“I guess” You blush nervously.

“Yeah, you’re definitely Satorus type.” He says with a chuckle and that makes you roll your eyes.

“He can choke for all I care,” You say and instantly cover your hand with your mouth, “that was mean I didn’t mean it.” Which makes the other two burst into laughter again. 

You pout as Suguru takes another hit but holds it before grabbing you by the back of the neck and blowing it in your face again. You inhaled off instinct. At this point, you were feeling a little different, a little light-headed. Shoko took another hit for herself and then gave you another one.

You go to stand up and then immediately feel that you are off balance falling back on Suguru with a laugh, “omg I’m sorry” You try to get out between laughter. Shoko and Suguru exchange looks.

“You high, princess?” Suguru asks looking down at your head in his lap that you didn’t even notice.

“No, I’m good. It may have been the drinks. I had a few before y'all got here.” You continue to giggle.

“A few?” Shoko asks more as a joke.

“It was only three!” You say as you sit up way too quickly, your world starts to spin.

“Oh, the brainiac is cross faded” Suguru chuckles at you.

“What’s cross-faded?” You ask getting more comfortable in his lap unconsciously.

Shoko squats down to your face, grabbing it letting you know she is going to blow more smoke it, and you let her. “Cross faded is when you’re high and drunk”

“I’m not high” you say after exhaling with another giggle.

“yes. Yes you are” Suguru corrects.

“No, but I am hungry. Anyone else kind of hungry?” You ask, looking between the two of them who both laugh at you.

“Yeah, she’s high, good. Suguru you can cook yeah?” Shoko asks basically kicking him out of his spot as your pillow. He grumbles getting up, agreeing to make something for the three of you. Shoko puts your head in her lap instead of letting you rest it on the hard couch arm, sliding your legs where your head was.

“You’re such a great friend Shoko, I love you too much” you say as one of your hands goes to touch her face.

“yeah, I know, what would you do without me”

“Be lost and die” you giggle.

You start to go on a ramble in Shokos lap while Suguru is cooking, truly not noticing that you’re higher than giraffe coochie.

“See the thing is that people always used to assume that penguins mated for life, yeah. Which I don’t even know how they figured that out, like how are you even telling the penguins apart? But no no no anyways, they said that they mate for life and that’s not even close to true, they’re like HABITUAL cheaters and there are a lot of actual gay penguins, which is cute ya know until you think of the fact that jealous penguins murder baby penguins like all the time. And did you know that they will also throw those cute baby penguins in the water to check for danger, like a sacrifice?”

No one had any clue how you got on to the subject of penguins not even you, but they listened to your cross-faded ramblings. Suguru would purposely interject trying to steer you off course to a new topic where you completely forget what you were initially talking about and now ramble on about something else, which would make him laugh.

You didn’t last to when Suguru finished cooking before you passed out in Shokos lap which landed two separate IG posts from both of them about how you can’t hang. After the two of them ate, making sure to save you some for when you woke up later Suguru went back to his own shared apartment with Gojo.

“Looks like y'all had fun.” Gojo scoffs from his spot on the couch scrolling through what Suguru assumed was IG as he walks into the apartment. He had no reason to be upset really, he was the one who fucked ip after all. That could have been him.

“It was a great time actually, she’s super cool. You really did fuck up. She’s literally the definition of your type from what I can tell” Suguru says as he enters the shared space, seeing the bruise that has formed on Gojo's face has grown darker than the last time that he was him. “Damn, she really got you good. Good for her, should of hit you again.”

There was silence between the two as Satoru glared up at Suguru from his spot in his couch that he didn’t move from. The only thing to break the silence was Sugurus chuckle as he left his friend to his own misery.

The next day you’re almost too embarrassed to go to your organic chem class after your outburst but you of course, a studious woman knew you had to go. Luckily you at least had your notebook that you thought you lost, thankfully Suguru had it.  Once you got in class, you made a beeline to the professor's desk up front, trying to avoid looking at anyone’s eyes. After greeting him, you start profusely apologizing for your outburst, letting him know that nothing like that will ever happen again. He accepts your apology with a sympathetic smile, he kind of got the gist of the conversation that was had between you and Gojo.

Once you take your normal spot in the lecture hall, class starts soon afterward. The whole time, you can feel Gojo's gaze on the back of your head. He really does feel like complete shit and he doesn’t know how he’s even going to apologize to you. Especially since Shoko told him about your learning disability, he felt even shitter and Suguru didn’t make it any better with saying how you should have hit him again. After class finished, you quickly made your way to the door only sparing Gojo a single glance, seeing the huge bruise you left on his face. You wanted to apologize but both Suguru and Shoko made you promise not to, so you held strong. He attempted to stop you briefly, but you brushed past him without giving him a second glance. How was he going to fix this?

taglist: @allofffmypeaches

[sjsmith56]

The Recruit

Summary: A former special forces operative is recruited by Bucky and Sam, who have to get past her trust issues first.

Length: 4.6 K

Characters: Named OFC, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Yelena Belova

Warnings: PTSD, abandonment issues, anger issues, trust issues, reference to capture and sexual assault, alcohol abuse.

Author notes: I’m not sure where this came from but I wanted to explore Bucky trying to help someone with similar issues to his. The name of the OFC is a deliberate choice as it establishes that she has had a chip on her shoulder for a long time. Takes place after Thunderbolts* and Captain America: Brave New World.

It had been two days since I brought the woman and her daughter, victims of domestic abuse by her mobster husband, to the safe house. Two days since I was ordered to keep going while the Avengers confronted his posse of men who were tracking us. Two days since I last wondered how I ended up as an agent with the Avengers. It certainly wasn't something I set out to do when I answered a cryptic ad that persistently showed up on my cell phone, asking only three questions.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR JOB?

IS IT FULFILLING?

DO YOU WISH YOU WERE DOING SOMETHING MEANINGFUL?

IF YOU ANSWERED NO, NO, AND YES, YOU MAY BE THE PERSON WE NEED!

CLICK HERE IF YOU WISH TO KNOW MORE.

Yeah, stupid drunk me clicked on the hyperlink and two days later (is there something about two days that just follows me?) Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes showed up at my door. Even that wasn't technically true, as I was outside my apartment, had just put the key into the lock and opened the door when I realized that something wasn't right. As a single woman I was pretty aware of my surroundings, so the sight of a pair of black, scuffed combat boots and a pair of pull-on work boots lined up neatly on the mat inside my door led me to believe I wasn't alone. I didn't feel like I was in danger, because honestly, what thief or murderer would take his footwear off and put it on the mat? But, living alone, I also knew not to take any chances, so I reached inside the closet to get my aluminum baseball bat so that I had a weapon handy, except, it wasn't there.

"I have your bat," said a man's voice, coloured by a Brooklyn accent. "We're not here to hurt you but we also don't want you to hurt us."

I stayed in the doorway, not answering and definitely not moving.

"Told you we should have called first," said another voice, also male, but warmer in tone, with a hint of the south in his accent. "You have to admit that breaking into the apartment of a single woman sets off all sorts of warning bells."

"So, sue me," answered the first man. "I want to know how she reacts to a strange situation. Will she threaten us with calling the police without assessing the scene first? Or will she walk in, prepared to react if she must, and find out why two strange men have broken into her apartment, taken their boots off and left them on the mat inside her door?"

"What if she's armed?" asked the second man. "I know you can dodge the bullets."

"You brought the shield, so you're safe, too," said the first. "If she shoots first and asks questions later then she hasn't passed the test. You have to change things up, Sam. This isn't a typical job interview."

Shield? Sam? Job interview? What the actual ...? I stepped out of the doorway to at least see who was talking.

"Do you two argue like this all the time?"

I looked at the one man who I recognized as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Which meant the tall dark-haired man with him was Bucky Barnes, the famous (and infamous) Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. They both stood up from where they had been sitting on my couch. After my question they looked at each other.

"It's not really arguing," said Barnes. "It's more like exploring alternative possibilities. You know, hypotheticals." He tossed me the bat, watching how I caught it with one hand, my left one. "Ambidextrous. Nice." He checked his phone and said my name, not even making fun of it. "You are her, right? Former special forces, forced to quit after you broke the nose of your asshole of a commander. Could have got a dishonourable discharge for hitting a superior officer but you managed to get an honourable discharge and a written apology from the guy."

He looked at me, waiting for a reaction.

"What do you want?" I wasn't going to dance around the issue. "Why are you here?"

Barnes held his phone up. "You answered the ad." I looked blankly at him. "The three questions that you answered No, No, and Yes, then clicked on the hyperlink."

"Which didn't work," I replied.

"Oh, it worked," smirked Barnes. "Gave us access to your phone, your records, your whole life really. Which is why we're here right now giving you this job interview."

He was really getting on my nerves, and I flipped the bat, catching it again in my left hand. Wilson looked at him then put his hands out, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Look, I admit that this is unusual," he said, in a tone that I recognized.

It was the same kind of voice that counsellors at the VA used when they were trying to show they had your best interests at heart. I didn't buy it when I had to go see them after my discharge and I wasn't buying it now. Once again, I flipped my bat, only this time I attacked as soon as it hit my hand. It wasn't the best move to make as I ended up on my back, with a metal hand on my chest, holding me down and a pair of the bluest eyes I had ever seen gazing down at me.

"I thought you said you weren't going to hurt me," I wheezed, when my breath came back.

"You attacked," shrugged Barnes, then he lifted his hand off my chest and offered it to me.

I took it and stood up.

"Job interview, huh? For what?"

"Avengers," said Wilson. "We're starting it up again. We have several of the previous Avengers coming back, and some new ones, but we're searching out uniquely qualified individuals whose skill set matches our requirements."

"Aren't you all enhanced, or something?" I asked, looking intently at him.

"No." He shook his head. "It's not a pre-requisite. We're looking for people who can defend themselves, adapt to a situation, and can work with a team. We don't think you got a fair chance with the special forces."

Fair chance. He would have to use those words because he was right. I did everything I was supposed to, knocked myself out to prove that I belonged then had to fend off my commanding officer, six inches taller and 65 lbs heavier than me, when he tried to hurt me in front of witnesses who were on my side. They did try to bust me, but my CO was stupid enough to try it in a place with a security camera. I still got discharged and last I heard he was booted up to be a lackey for some general in Washington. That's how it goes, sometimes.

With a sigh, I went to the kitchen, leaving the bat on the counter and opened the cupboard above the fridge, taking out a bottle of scotch, and grabbing three glasses. By then Barnes and Wilson joined me and I poured out half a glass for each of us. I downed half of mine, then looked at both.

"What's the catch?"

They looked at each other again; a habit that was becoming tiresome.

"No catch," said Sam, "except that you kind of have to leave your current life behind. We're not exactly official or authorized."

"Covert operations?" It was what I trained for.

"Sort of." I shook my head. These guys weren't exactly filling me with confidence.

"Look," said Barnes, finishing his drink. "We were ready to do this a year ago, after the Flag Smashers. Then we both faced some unique challenges. I got press ganged into being in a secret ops team that was so shady it was practically underground, and we weren't being given the truth about our real purpose. Sam was called to Washington to head up the new Avengers, but the President wanted them to be more like his personal hit squad. We were being manipulated left, right, and centre and none of it was for a noble purpose. That's not who we are and before you point out that I was the Winter Soldier ...."

I held up my hand. "I know your story. You don't have to convince me that you were forced into it. So, you're basically starting up the Avengers but on your terms. No shady government agency or government interference, but no government funding either. No Sokovia Accords binding your hands as well. Who is funding it?"

Once again, they looked at each other and I huffed as it was getting really irritating when they did that.

"Stark Foundation but it's buried under layers and layers of non-profits so that they can't be accused of running a private black op." Wilson looked at me earnestly. "The funding is all hands off. We get it and what we do with it is our business. We promised to keep that on the down low, and we don't do anything too illegal, like murder or bank robbery or piracy, stuff like that."

"You interested?"

Barnes was looking directly at me, those blue eyes piercing right into my soul. Working in a warehouse since my discharge hadn't exactly been fulfilling but it was honest work, and it kept my mind from brooding on how my life was unfolding. If anyone knew how much I was really floundering it was this man.

"Alright, I'm in," I said. "I know you're not military, but I want my rank back. I worked hard for that."

"As long as you know that I'm your superior," said Barnes. "In the field, Sam and I are in command." I nodded. Most sergeants ran the units anyway. "Alright, welcome to the Avengers Lieutenant Ripley. I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up and take you to the compound. We all live there." He glanced at my place. "You should be able to sublet this flat easily enough."

I smirked. "I'm surprised your research didn't tell you I'm a squatter. There is no lease. I found the key the owner left in a hiding place. You tell me where the compound is, and I'll be there tomorrow."

Wilson looked uncomfortable but Barnes' face was inscrutable. He texted me a map with a pin dropped on it, then walked past me to the door, stopping long enough to lower his face to my ear and whisper. His warm breath caressed my neck, bringing up goose pimples on my forearm.

"I knew but I was trying to help you save face. I've been where you are, Ellen. You're a badass but you're still a fuckup. Fortunately for you a lot of the Avengers are. It's why we work well together." He straightened up and kept going to the door, stopping only to put his boots on. "You be there by 15:00 or I'll come looking for you."

Then he was gone, and Sam Wilson smiled apologetically at me before following him. I poured myself more scotch, drinking it in three separate gulps. Another fresh start: that's what I had to tell myself. Maybe this time I would believe it.

I showed up at the compound on my motorcycle at 14:55. All of my worldly possessions, my clothing, a few books, a small photo album of my only living relatives, my sister and her family, and my trusty aluminum baseball bat were packed into the saddlebags of the motorcycle, or into the large backpack I wore. The guard at the gate gave a glimmer of a smile when I gave him my name, but at least he didn't say anything and directed me to the building. When I pulled up, Barnes and Wilson were standing there, waiting.

"I'm here," I stated, after I turned off the ignition and stepped off, removing my helmet.

"Didn't doubt it for a minute," replied Barnes, eyeing my ride. "Nice bike."

"It is," I agreed. "Can I leave it here?"

"There's a garage. I can show it to you later. Let's get you set up with your access privileges."

It took about 30 minutes to get me squared away and I dropped my things off in my quarters, then they gave me a brief tour of the facilities. The residences were nice, better than military but more spartan than where I had been living. Sam said I was free to personalize it in any way. Since I wasn't sure how long I would be here until they kicked me out, I planned to leave everything in my bags. Back out in front of the building I got on my motorcycle, prepared for them to give me directions to the garage. Instead, Barnes got on behind me, his hands lightly on my waist.

"Let's see what you've got on this," he said.

"You don't have a helmet," I noted.

"I trust you not to kill me." I almost laughed at that.

"Alright, Sergeant. Remember, you asked for it."

I gunned the throttle, pealing out with the smell of burnt rubber enveloping us. Barnes didn't panic. Instead, he leaned into me, wrapping his arms around me, and moving as I did as I took the corners way too fast. I became aware of a heat radiating from him, even through our leather jackets, making me wonder if it was a super soldier thing. At some point, he patted my stomach then pointed in a direction and I turned that way. We were behind the building where we started, and I slowed up as he pointed to a garage door.

"Thumbprint access," he said loud enough for me to hear. "You're in the system now."

Pulling up, I removed my glove and pressed my thumb on the sensor. The door opened and I drove into the cavernous garage. He directed me to an area where several motorcycles were parked and I pulled into an empty space. We both got off and I nodded my head at the others.

"Whose are these?"

"Mine," he said.

"All four of them?"

He nodded. "Harley-Davidson WL(A) just like one I drove in World War II. I restored that one myself. Triumph Bonneville T120, Norton Commando 961 and for everyday driving a Honda Gold Wing. There's a workspace through that door over there, where you can work on your bike if that's what you like to do in your downtime. Keeps me sane."

We said nothing in the elevator up. Barnes got off at the main floor, nodding at me as he left, while I continued to the top floor where the residences were. When I got inside my quarters, I sat there, wondering what I should do, seeing as how I didn't plan to unpack just yet. Since I wasn't hungry, I figured a workout would drum up my appetite. Changing into my gear, I walked to the fitness centre, remembering where it was from my brief tour. Several people were in there, including a blonde woman, who was practising her kicks and punches on a heavy bag. For a smaller woman she had a lot of power in her and I realized I was watching her more than I was paying attention to my own workout.

"You bothered with something?" she asked, with a distinct Russian accent.

"No, just admiring your skills," I said, "although you're going to hurt your hands if you don't hit it properly."

"I've been doing this for a long time," she smirked. "I think I know how to hit a heavy bag."

I shrugged and turned away from her, continuing my leg work. A few minutes later she stood beside me and gestured to the mat.

"Show me what you've got, rookie," she said, trilling the "r" in rookie.

"I don't want to hurt you," I replied, not knowing her background.

She said something in Russian then challenged me again. With a sigh, I looked at her and got up from the leg lift machine I was on. I was several inches taller than her and at least 20 lbs heavier but she moved towards the mat and gestured to me. Well shit, it was my first day and I already was being called to prove myself. Rolling my neck and shoulders to loosen up I approached her and got into a crouch, as we circled each other, trying to get the other to make the first move. Then she attacked and damn, she was fast, pinning me in no time at all. Letting go of me, she resumed her position, and we circled again, only this time I attacked first, except she climbed upon me and did a move that encircled me before bringing me down hard. The third time, she moved but I was ready for her and sidestepped, clipping her in the face before taking her in a choke hold, while wrapping my legs around hers. The more she struggled the harder I squeezed.

"Ripley, let Yelena go," said a voice and I looked up to see Barnes there, a pissed off expression on his face.

I released her, then stood and offered her a hand up.

"Red Room, aren't you?"

"Da, how did you know?" she asked, wiping her bloody nose with the back of her hand.

"Squared off against a couple of you a few times," I replied. "You're lethal but the man who trained you also trained his own weaknesses into you. I would like to work with you on those, if you help me with mine. If you're going to have my back, I want to know that you're up to it and vice versa."

"Yasha, I like her," said Yelena. "Alright, Ripley. You have a first name?"

"Ripley's fine," I answered. "We good?"

"Da."

She walked past Barnes into the women's locker room, while the others who had gathered dispersed. He didn't move, just stood there glaring at me.

"Don't hurt your teammates," he finally said. "Save it for the missions."

"I would have released her before she passed out."

He turned around and left without a word. I called to him, but he didn't react, and stupid me, I ran after him, pulling him by the arm. His metal hand was on my throat in an instant, pinning me to the wall. Then he just as suddenly released me and turned away. I watched him walk away until he was out of sight.

"He worries about hurting us," said Yelena, who was now standing next to me, her bleeding nose taken care of. "His reactions are so ingrained that he is afraid of the force he uses being lethal. Killing is something he tries to avoid but sometimes it is just how the mission goes. It affects him deeply when that happens."

After I showered and changed, I went to Barnes' quarters, knocking on his door. There was no answer then the door suddenly opened, and I pushed it further open, stepping into the darkened interior. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust but I saw him on his couch, with a glass of amber liquid in his hand, and an open bottle of the same colour liquid on the coffee table. The TV was on but he had the sound off. Closing the door, I approached the table and picked up the bottle, smelling it ... scotch.

"There's a glass in the cupboard," he said, waving towards a small kitchen.

I came back and poured myself some, then sat next to him.

"She started it," I said.

"I ended it," he answered, taking a swallow. "You can't be using your full abilities on your teammates. Train, yes, but hurt them, no."

"We're the same level," I answered. "Now, she knows that I have her back, and I know the same about her. I know the drill, Sergeant. Didn't take you to be queasy about a little bit of blood."

"I'm not but I know what you're capable of," he said, looking straight ahead. "You were captured by ISIS, sexually assaulted by several of them, and your team did nothing to rescue you, figuring you were as good as dead. Then you killed your captors, using whatever you could get your hands on, and walked for two nights in the desert, hiding wherever you could during sunlight hours. When you reunited with your unit your commanding officer tried to justify why he didn't try to find you, and you almost killed him. I know the record says you only broke his nose, but you did a lot more than that. You have severe untreated PTSD and you're a bomb waiting to go off."

I could feel my insides freezing as he listed off what really happened to me, wondering how he found out. When I found my voice, it cracked.

"Why did you offer me a job then, if I'm so dangerous to your obviously well-qualified teammates?"

He put his glass down and looked at me, and I saw it then, the same look I often woke up with, that often stared back at me in the mirror after I slept like shit for weeks in a row. Of course, he had been there, in worse circumstances than I had and for years instead of days.

"Because we can help you," he said quietly. "We can redirect your rage and your anger towards something that will make a difference. You won't be getting by on dead-end jobs and living wherever you can find a place to hole up in. Healing isn't linear. I've been free of HYDRA for over ten years and there are still times when I wonder if I deserve to live. Shit happens but I can control how I react to people, especially those who need me to have their back. I will always have your back, Ellen, and if you are ever taken by the enemy, I will find you, even if it takes years. But you must meet me halfway. Are you going to challenge every single person who is an Avenger? Because I can tell you right now that I won't stand for it. They've all survived their own crucibles, have faced their own battles and setbacks. They don't have to prove themselves to you just as you don't have to prove yourself to them. You either decide you belong, or you don't. It's as simple as that."

We drank in the dimness of his quarters, not speaking to each other, while I considered his words. Everything he said was all true and he knew it because he had been there, right where I was. For too long, I had avoided dealing with a lot of things, not just what happened to me when I was in the army. It went back further than that, to when my parents were killed in a car accident, leaving me in the care of my barely legal sister. I never felt like I belonged because I had been abandoned more than once. Now, this man, the longest serving PoW in history had offered me a choice to go on and live my life in a downward spiral or accept the support and help of being part of something good. Everything in me ached to find a place to call home but I was afraid of facing despair again if I let my guard down and let these people in.

A motion to the side caught my attention. It was Barnes' hand, moving to the space between us, palm up. It was an offering, of friendship, of trust, of hope. All I had to do was place my hand in his and it would seal something between us, a promise to be there for me when I needed it most. With a shaky breath I placed my hand on his, noticing once more how warm he was, and we intertwined our fingers. He squeezed my hand and sat there for some time, in the quiet.

That was six months ago, and I haven't been disappointed in placing my trust in Bucky, and the others. It wasn't always smooth sailing, but no grudges were held, and any disputes were dealt with by various methods that didn't involve drawing blood. This mission, where I continued on with this mother and child, desperately trying to escape the life of misery they had, tested our capabilities. As we got into a shootout with the "associates" of her husband sent to take the daughter back to her father, Bucky pulled me aside.

"Go, take them to a safe house," he said, putting a new set of keys into my hand. "It doesn't matter which one because I'll find you. There are extra vehicles at each place so if you just go to change vehicles that works, too. Just don't try to call or text us." I wasn't going to lie. I was afraid and I told him I didn't know if I could do this. "I have faith in you, Ellen. It's why I wanted to recruit you."

With a nod, I herded the pair out the back door of the safe house we were in. There was a garage in the back yard, and I opened the door, unlocking the car doors with the remote on the key chain. Pressing the garage door remote I sped out of there, with the woman and child huddled on the floor of the back seat. We drove to another safe house, its location in the countryside memorized. For two days, we stayed there, and I almost reached the point where I was done waiting. Then a vehicle pulled up to where the access road came off the highway and I sent my charges into a safe room in the basement, telling them to unlock it only for me. I turned off the lights and watched as the car approached, parking some distance away. A man got out of the driver's seat and stood in front of the car, studying the house. I couldn't see his face as the headlights blinded me. Then he pulled out a cell phone and texted something. My phone pinged and I read the screen.

Bucky: It's okay. It's me. I found you.

Ellen: Prove it's you.

Bucky: You're named after a badass woman, Ellen Ripley, from the Alien movie franchise. I didn't know about the character until you brought it up when you got drunk and came onto me. I turned you down because I don't have sex with drunk women, especially those with PTSD.  After I saw the movies, I made a pass at you, and we've been seeing each other ever since but we haven’t gone all the way, because you’re not ready. Satisfied?

I opened the door, and Bucky Barnes strode towards me, the man who had my back from the beginning, the man who found me and is helping me find myself. Allowing ourselves a moment to embrace, we went down to the safe room and retrieved the woman and her daughter. Leaving my car there, we all got into Bucky's car and drove to where the Federal Marshals were waiting to put the pair into witness protection. After we watched them drive away, Bucky lifted me onto the hood of the car, and stood between my legs, kissing me passionately for several long glorious moments. Tonight, we would spend together at the safe house, then we would drive back home tomorrow. Home, what a wonderful way to describe my new extended family, and the man who would search to the ends of the earth to find me if I ever went missing. All because I answered what I thought was a spam ad but was really an invitation to become an Avenger.

One Shots Masterlist

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[idontplaytrack]

Whole Lot in Love

Capri Donahue x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Oral, fingering, pet names(reader receiving). Coarse language, fluff

Part 2 for ‘Kiss It Better’

Things between you and Capri weren’t awkward. Until you two were in school, that’s where the silence was so loud, it was almost tangible.

No one knew what happened between you and her at the pool party, no one knew about the kiss. Well, the kisses. Technically. The sweet little peck to your thumb, and the needy, yearned for, first kiss. You knew the girl had a reputation to uphold, as did you. So your anxiety began to set in when she talked to you, and stood right next to you. You were terrified of being seen and talked about by others.

It was the last week of school before summer. You just had to make it through these five days then you didn’t have to worry about it anymore. “Hi, you.” Capri says while walking up to you. She readily leans in to kiss your cheek but you dodged it— right. This — the PDA ‘rules’ hadn’t been discussed yet.

“What’s the matter?” The girl asks with a chuckle, face almost confused by your reaction.

You told her, “We haven’t exactly discussed anything.”

She got what you meant and kept a bit of a space between you and herself, "Right, right. We'll talk that out after school? Today?"

"Sure." You agreed.

"Where's your last class?"

"Gym." You told her, eyes narrowed and watching the students walking by.

"I'll wait for you outside." Capri says, "See you later, y/n."

"Bye." You responded, an awkward chuckle escapes your mouth as you turned to go in the direction opposite hers. Capri nearly cackled at your reaction but bit the laugh back.

The rest of you day at school went by without a hitch, but she did keep looking at you whenever she got the chance to. You could feel her eyes on you, practically burning holes into the back of your head.

Did you want to look back at her? Yes.

Were you afraid to because of what other students would say? God yes.

You were never used to any attention from anyone, you always just slid under the radar at school and floated by, much like Darby.

Quickly changing out of your gym attire, you got out of the locker room as a trio of popular girls in your gym class entered. You’d just spared yourself some snickering and finger-pointing. Looking both ways when you stepped out of the gymnasium, you spot Capri leaning against the wall on your left. She looked up, saw you and skipped over. “Hey!” Capri beamed.

“Hi.” You gave her a small smile, “Uh, are you parents home?”

“Not right now but they’ll be by dinner time.” Capri replied, “Yours?”

“They’re on business trips for another week.”

“Ooh.” She chuckles, “Okay, we’ll talk at your place. You don’t drive, do you?”

“It’s a twenty minute walk.” You shrug.

“Well, my car’s parked here and I don’t want to leave it here in the parking lot.” She continues, “C’mon, let’s take my car.” You followed Capri to her car, and got in the front with her.

“You wanna pick up anything from the store on the way back?”

“No, I’m good.” You said while buckling your seatbelt.

“Okay, then.”

The brief drive was filled with light-hearted conversation. She asked you a bunch of questions to get to know you and you just answered them without a second thought. In the privacy of her car, where no one else could see. You were free as a bird, no worries, no nothing.

“Nice place.” She commented as you two walked into the place.

“It’s really not.” You laughed.

“Oh, come on. It is.”

“It’s…small.” You added on.

“Not really.” She retorted.

“Fine, it’s not. Your mansion is huge.”

She smirked, “Touché, y/n. It feels so empty a lot of the times.”

“I’m gonna go take a shower.”

She gasped, “Wait, what do you want me to do?”

“I dunno. Make yourself at home? Watch TV, raid the pantry. I’m all gross from gym class. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She asked teasingly, stepping closer to you. Her arm was smoothly winded around your waist, face to face with you.

You looked at her, brows raised, bewildered. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Maybe I don’t.” She continues.

“Let me take a shower first, alright?” You avert your eyes, requesting.

“M’kay.” She hummed, her palm rubbing small circles on your lower back as she broke away from the embrace. That gesture ignited a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and the blush on your cheeks to deepen. Clearing your throat, you scampered upstairs before she could poke fun at you for it.

You didn’t take long, not wanting to keep her waiting. “Hey.” She turned to look at you from her seat on the couch. You silently walked up to her and sat down next to her. “Okay, let’s…talk.”

“So…” You sigh, “What are we?”

“What do you mean?” She asks, absolutely confused.

“What…are we? We kissed, so…are we dating? Or was that, just—”

“I told you, I like you, y/n.” Capri says softly.

“So?” You asked back. “That doesn’t mean that we’re—”

“Is that why you didn’t want me to kiss you on the cheek at school?” She questioned, her gaze gentle, as was her tone.

“I just— I like you too, but the thought of me being openly affectionate with— I’m sorry, I’m not out yet and I— I’m scared.” You revealed to her, finally.

“That’s okay. I got you. We don’t have to do anything while we’re out in public.” Capri held onto your hand as she spoke, “And to answer your question, yes. We’re dating. But we’ll keep things…lowkey. Hm?”

You sniffled, eyes still not completely meeting hers. Nodding your head, you mumble, “Okay.”

Before you could realise, she’d wrapped her arm around you again, pulling you closer to her. Reflexively, your head was on her shoulder. You didn’t fight it, knowing you were…safe in this space. No comments, no judgement.

————

“What’re you doing?” You ask, looking up at her.

“Nothing.” She smirked, chuckling as she continues to caress your lower back.

“Right.” You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully.

“What do you want me to be doing?” She asks suggestively, palm now gliding lower and lower. Approaching your ass. You let out a harsh exhale as her hand cups the muscle, you flinch, glaring at her. You were almost too quickly losing focus on whatever the hell was playing on TV.

Soon, you relaxed again, letting her leave those lingering touches all over you. You wanted her to, but you didn’t exactly want to say it just yet. Just to be a little playful with her. Capri definitely didn’t mind it. “Capri.”

“Yeah.” She hand stops moving for a second.

“Prove it to me.” You muttered.

“Oh, no problem.” She practically purred, sending a rush of heat down south.

“Show me you mean it, show me that you like me like you say you do.” You weren’t sure where this confidence came from, but it was definitely the way to rile her up.

“Baby girl, you know I love a challenge.” Capri smirked, flipping you over onto the couch.

“Do you?” You asked cheekily as she straddled you, face inches away from yours.

“You wanna do this here?” She snaps out of the mood for a moment.

“What?” You squint at her.

“You wanna go to your room?” She asks, pressing a rough kiss to your lips.

You nodded eagerly, unable to hide your excitement. “Okay, get up.” She climbs off you, you got up. Capri picks you up and carried you up the stairs, impatiently.

“Second door on the right.” You said into the kiss.

She lowers you onto your mattress, lips never leaving yours as her knees were on either side of you. The intensity of the kisses varied and left you aching and wanting more. “Done this before?”

“No.” You admitted, swallowing thickly.

“We’ll take it slow.” She assured.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks flushing with her eyes fixated on you, “Okay.”

Capri grins, cupping your cheek as she leaned down to capture your lips again.

“You smell so good.” She says while kissing her way down your neck. You whined quietly when her lips were no longer felt on your mouth. You laughed at the comment and squirmed, but she kept going, wanting to hear that sweet, sweet noise again.

“You can tell me to stop anytime, you hear me?” Her lips broke away, Capri looked at you directly, “Anytime. No questions asked.”

“Yeah.” You nod, “Yeah— I hear you.”

“Good.” She smiled, brushing the hair out of your eyes as she lowered herself again.

When her lips started to attack a certain spot of your neck, you bit your lip to muffle the noise that was trying to force its way out of your mouth. Capri noticed it instantly. “Hey.” She hums, “It’s okay. Don’t hold back.”

Well, fuck. That gentleness in her tone only made you more flustered and needy. Why is she like that with you? And only you? Whatever, you were enjoying it. You loved it. Being the only one to see this side of her.

Obviously, she was taking the lead since this was your first time. She was gentle— not just her words, but also her actions. How she was kissing you, how her hands were roaming your body to explore it and what made you tick. Slow, and soft but passionate and eager.

It made your mind fuzzy, your eyes begin to watch her as she worked you over. She grins when she realises, letting out a chuckle and she squeezed your thighs. “You good?”

“Mhm.” Came a strained reply from you, “So good.”

“Aw.” She continues to grope your thighs, “So glad.”

That ignited something in your core— this little bit of her usual cheeky facade…

You licked your lips and gnawed on it again when her hand headed down your front. Her eyes, they flicked up to look at yours to ask you for permission silently. You gave her the green-light to proceed, and very slowly, you feel her middle finger gliding up and down your slit to gather your arousal before it enters you. Capri watches your face as she does so, making sure she wasn’t hurting you.

“Okay?”

Her question was answered by a whimper from you, making her smile smugly. She picks up her pace, hooking up her finger to press onto your sensitive spot inside. Your mouth hung open, a soft gasp escapes. Capri couldn’t take her eyes off you, she was infatuated. She could watch you all day while she fucked and edged you. Her other arm was smoothly hooked under your thigh as her finger pumped in and out of you steadily. More arousal leaked out of you, making her lose the friction and you both to start hearing a rather obscene noise come from the juncture between your legs.

Your head was spinning and Capri started to pick up her pace while you felt a second finger lazily moving between your folds, as though trying to tease you. “You want more, baby?” Capri asks, voice low-pitched and faint.

You took in a quick breath while you nodded feverently without saying a word, this was what you were reduced to. Nothing coherent was forming in your mind, your mind was miles away now as your eyes focused on the girl between your thighs and your body focused on chasing your release.

A second finger slides inside you without resistance, and again, she observed your face. Noting that you were fine, she begins to move them in and out of you, pace quickened once more.

Feeling her two digits poke your g-spot for the first time, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Then, Capri was rewarded with a breathy moan from you. From then on, your noises matched up with her ministrations. The more vocal you were, the more eagerly she was fucking you. Eventually, something made you scream. Capri had pressed her thumb onto your clit and started to rub it. And at this moment, every single word that ran through your head were profanities. So you hesitated opening your mouth, expecting them to be flying out of there if you did. Aaand you weren’t usually one with much of a potty mouth.

“I want to hear you.” She demanded, but her smile was almost sickeningly sweet.

“Okay.” You agreed.

“Hey.” Her free hand caresses your inner thigh, you look at her.

“Do you want me to try something else?” She inquired, fingers inside you never stopping.

“Try what?”

“Using my mouth.” She answered the very next moment.

“Wh— oh.” You looked at her, straight in the eye. She was serious. “Okay.” You chuckled, “Yeah, alright.”

Her tongue darted out and you saw her literally dive right in. Her tongue flicks persistently at your swelling clit while her mouth was closed around the hood of it.

“Oh— fuck!” You cried out, “Fuck…”

She hums in approval, “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Mm— yeah, yeah. Yes, oh my God.” Your breaths were beginning to come out in short pants. Her arm hooked around your thigh pulls you closer right as your back arches. Your hands grasp the sheets beneath yourself as you felt the pleasure building up and up to a breaking point.

It was…peculiar. You didn’t know what to expect.

“Oh, shit.” You gasped, “More— more. I want more.”

Her fingers joined in on the action post-haste, causing profanities and her name to fall from your lips unendingly. The girl was basking in it, and your pleasure. Fuck, was she good at this.

“Are you close?” She asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I— Capri, I don’t know what the hell to expect, I—”

“Probably kinda feels like you have to pee.” Capri says, mouth barely detached from you. The heat and her breath fanning against your cunt makes you flinch and then you were throbbing. So goddamn intensely.

“What?” You muttered. But you didn’t have much time to think when you began to feel exactly what she described.

“Fuck— shit, don’t stop— don’t stop, don’t stop— oh, my God, Capri—” You babbled, back arching and pushing yourself closer to her than ever. Capri slows down gradually but doesn’t stop just yet, allowing you to ride out each and every wave of your high.

“Oh, good girl.” Capri laughs softly, caressing your inner thighs as you start to calm down and find your breath again.

That made your heart flutter, you were giddy happy. Still a little breathless, but you felt great.

“How was that?” She asks, glancing at you.

You let out an exhale in amusement, “I’m…surprised.”

She bites her lip, chuckling again, “Really? Why?” Capri grabs a tissue from your nightstand to clean off her mouth and chin before laying down next to you.

“It was my first time, so…” You looked at her, she was laid down next to you, hand resting on your torso, fingers absentmindedly tracing squiggles on your skin, “That, and um, you were actually way gentler than I though you would be.”

“What?” She gasped, feigning offence.

You giggled, laying on your back.

Capri sighs softly, tilting your face so you were looking at her again. You returned to laying on your side. Her hand goes up your cheek, her thumb stroking against the skin softly, “I love you.”

“Do you, now?” You teased with a chuckle.

She pushes with a finger on your chest playfully, “Yes, I do, silly.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[netegf]

violet chemistry (iii)

pairing: aged up!ao'nung x f!metkayina reader

plot: you and ao'nung attempt to regain control in your lives by fake-dating. the irony is... this is fated.

word count: 2.6 k

a/n: the finale of this three-part fake dating series!!! - as per usual, this takes place roughly 10 years after atwow - some angst, fluff, innuendo, and most importantly, a happy ending for our stubborn pair 🥹🩵 thank u so much for reading and i hope u enjoy!!

previous

Ao’nung never listens.

Or, maybe he did – so long as the thing being asked of him matched what he wanted to do anyways. So what? He didn’t like pretending. Much of his adolescence was especially hard for that exact reason – too many days spent gleaning the reef or building rafts with calloused hand when he wanted to swim or fight or both. But he did it anyways in the name of becoming someone his family could count on, and, though those early days spent teaching the Sully’s were no indication, because he had a palpable moral compass that took the form of a bone-chewing guilt. It meant spending many afternoons helping Tsireya with a chore she needed help with despite at first saying ‘no’. It meant teaching his little brother how to fish the best fish in the reef when all he wanted to do after training was sleep. Still, there were some things Ao’nung could not keep restrained, and some orders he simply could not take – like the order to leave you alone.

Obviously, Ao’nung runs after you.

“You’re chasing me? Really?” You groan over your shoulder, heels pounding at the grainy substrate beneath your toes, body dodging the weeping leaves of surrounding trees as you run.

Ao’nung was hot on your tail, but not enough to panic. He might have been strong, but you were fast.

“Yes, I’m chasing you! What do you think this is, Cinderella?”

When you reach the confines of your family’s marui pod, you draw the cloth sheet over the entrance and stop him in his tracks.

“Let me in. Please.” He pleads, hand pressed firmly against the divider, three-finger shaped shadow on the fabric.

You sit on the floor, head buried between the rounds of your knees now damp with hot tears. If he comes in, you think it’ll be over. Everything spilling out messily. Volatile emotions exploding against the walls. A confession you’re not yet level-headed enough to give. You thought you were ready, but you weren’t – who would ever be ready to have a dream ripped away from them?

You shut your eyes at the thought, lips warbling.

“This was a bad idea, Ao. We shouldn’t have done this. We’re… confusing everybody!”

Confusing me, would have been more accurate – but the revelation dies on your lips.

“I’m not confused.” He says with conviction.

It was true, he wasn’t. And not for lack of knowing the feeling well enough.

He’d been confused most of his life – living in limbo between the person he was and the person everyone wanted him to be – always a few seconds away from snapping until he found better ways to ground himself. His family. Friends. The water. You.

For once, he had an answer to those questions that prodded him about the future. He wasn’t confused. He knew exactly what he wanted.

You. You. You. 

It sang in his head and it was making him dizzy.

“I asked you. I asked you because you’re my friend and I trust you, because I-,”

“No!”

The desperation in your voice cuts through his train of thought.

You shove your face deeper into your knees, sinking into yourself, wrapping an arm around them and squeezing in what’s meant to be comfort but feels more like chagrin. If he was going to break your heart, then he could do it tomorrow. You couldn’t hear his praises of friendship. Not on the night you danced together. Not on the night it felt real. On the night you’ll revisit periodically in your mind to make sure it doesn’t slip away, refining the sore but unrelenting muscles of your memory.

“Please. Just go, Ao’nung.” You whisper, voice breaking. He doesn’t miss the way you use his whole name. He feels sick.

“No! I want to know why you’re upset. I-I want to know how to make it stop.”

“You can’t, okay? You can’t just fix everything!”

The silence that follows is sign enough that it went a step too far. Ao’nung’s body feels hot, but he shivers.

Fix things was one of the only ways he knew how to help. When you lost your favourite bracelet to Pandora’s light-fingered ocean in childhood, he had little to say except a gruff ‘here’ after having spent the night making you a replacement. Now, he was a lot better with his words but the urge to remove pain like it was an internal organ never deserted him.

“Fine. I’ll go.” He mumbles, shadow slowly retreating. “But this isn’t over.”

That, you could count on better than sheep as you force sleep through bleary eyelids. To you, Ao’nung sometimes listened, but he always kept a promise.

Sometimes you have a dream.

It’s a glittering shoreline with thousands of bivalves buried in sand. Each one of them special in their own rite, you can’t help yourself but to pick them up one by one, holding up their pretty ridges against the fringing beads of your top, the urge to claim them as souvenirs running hot in your veins, but you know better – they belong to the sea. Where stagnant creatures moved great distance. How inspiring, you’d thought, that the right home could do that.

“Thief.” It’s Ao’nung snickering, and you’re really not even sure you can see him. But it’s his voice. His permanence in your life.

“I didn’t even take it.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugs, eyes lidded with amusement. “Fine, almost thief, then. Happy?”

“With you?” You’re laughing now. Always. “Never.”

“Right… the same way I never ditch training to body surf?”

“Mhm, and I never stay past curfew to count the stars.”

“And I never wanna kiss you.” He bites his lip, eyes fierce and boring through you. “You get what I mean?”

Sometimes his lips make it to yours, sometimes they don’t.

Regardless, you wake up with your lips swollen and his question playing over and over again in your head – ‘you get what I mean?’.

It’s hard to say what came first, your love for Ao’nung, or the dreams about him. Maybe they were born at the same time and dreams were, as the sky people thought, an uncovering of the gritty but sort of poignant parts of your subconscious. What you did know was that the dreams about him always came on nights when you intended to pray that your deepest desires reveal themselves, but fell asleep with the words aching on your tongue. You suppose Eywa worked in not-so-mysterious ways, waking you with the wafting smell of the salty ocean and a cool breeze nipping at your feet, soft buzzing in the air through wood-winded chimes as if to say – ‘you get what I mean?’.

This morning, though, you’re not in the mood for ambiguous and one-sided conversations with the great mother, no matter how enticing they might be to fall into.

Last night was too revealing – and you knew Ao’nung would never feel comfortable moving on to court another if he felt like you were going to fall apart without him. The goal of today was to show him that you could handle it, that he deserved to find his fated match, and he didn’t need to stay tethered to you out of pity or loyalty to a childhood friend.

Even if that goal means avoiding sticky topics and squeezing Kiri’s hand in moments of instability, hard enough that she jabs you in the rib with her elbow.

“Ow!” She yelps, eyes narrowing in disapproval. “You need to talk to him before I end up in the healing tent with Ronal all morning.”

Like he can hear her, and perhaps he can with the way he’s been keeping a watchful eye over you since the moment you stepped into the communal area, Ao’nung treads over. He has a mission of his own. If you were going to reject him, then he wanted to hear you say it, even if it meant he’d never recover.

“Can I talk to you?” He murmurs, warm hand brushing over your shoulder.

“Actually, I have to-,”

“Yes!” Kiri answers for you, and bluntly.

You cast a particularly scornful glare at her, but Kiri seems unphased, softy applying pressure at the small of your back until you tumble forward into Ao’nung’s chest.

He catches you by the hips, and you’re shocked for a moment when he doesn’t take the opportunity to tease you with a coy remark, something along the lines of ‘if you wanted to touch me, then all you needed to do was ask’, instead his eyes are fervent and his lips are fixed into a straight line.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk. Fuck.” He breathes out, rubbing his fingers over his jaw. “What happened last night? We don’t run… not from each other.”

Kiri seems to disappear, finding someone to chat with elsewhere.

As you make out the words through the ocean in your ears, you soften. In the best and the worst of times, you and Ao’nung were candid. Sometimes to a degree that made other Na’vi tilt their heads in confusion, like you had an especially short threshold for the inauthentic. Really, what else could you expect from two ex-hot-heads? Old habits die hard.

Still, this was intentional. Avoiding him was really the only way to ensure that your seams wouldn’t come apart. Maybe they weren’t even there and everything was just pressed together tightly. Ao’nung can tell when something’s up. He always does.

“You’re right. You’re right, I just– I felt guilty for lying.” You bite your lip, hoping it’s enough to persuade him. “To everybody. Our friends. Your parents. My parents.” Me.

“You have a real chance to love somebody, Ao. Why throw it away like this?”

“What?” His face twists sourly at the question.“No, I don’t buy that.”

“No? What do you mean ‘no’?”

“No.” He says again, more firmly this time. “You want me to believe this is some kind of honour-code bullshit? Since when do you care what anybody else thinks? This isn’t about them, it’s about us. What is this really about?”

Before the words tumble forward, a village elder wedges her way between the two of you, a haughty smile on her lips. It’s a cheap tactic, a cop-out – but the tension in the air is suffocating. When she begins sparking a conversation with you, it’s a welcome distraction that you very quickly jump on, while Ao’nung fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Are you serious?” He whispers into your ear, almost laughing. “How are you going to avoid me when I’m right here?”

“Oh, lovebirds!” The elder laments, clasping a hand on his shoulder with much more force than he would have anticipated. “Are the two of you keeping busy?”

Ao’nung can be petty, too. Maybe you just needed a reminder.

“Very busy.” He replies smoothly. “She wants six kids.”

You feel yourself choke on nothing, glaring at the side of his face while he purposefully ignores your stare.

“He wants eight.” You flash her a forced smile, delivering a light pinch to Ao’nung’s side. The elder looks between the two of you with an amused expression.

“Oh, did I say six? I meant ten.”

Fighting the urge to kick him in the ankle, you bid the elder a hasty goodbye, and tug Ao’nung by the hand, dragging his large frame towards the beach.

Begrudgingly, you sit yourself down on the sand and take a nourishing breath that does little to calm your jittery nerves.  

“Ready to talk now?”

“You know, Lo’ak was right all those years ago. You are evil.”

“Yeah, yeah. Start talking.”

It strikes you that the two of you always seem to be in the sand. Malleable landscape that you can mark-up however you please, only to be washed away seconds later, like it never happened in the first place. Lots of catharsis came from that cycle.

Lots of sunsets spent with Ao’nung, the pair of you carving your feelings into wet sand, then letting them go with the tide. Renewal. If you put everything out there, maybe it would hurt.

Or maybe it would be a renewal.

“I haven’t grown out of it.” You begin, heels digging into granules that dig into you back. He watches you shift uncomfortably, fighting the instinct to snake his arm around your waist.

“Grown out of…?”

“My crush on you. I haven’t grown out of it.” You whisper. “And I can’t fake being in a relationship with you without caving in on myself because of how much I wish it was real.”

Ao’nung feels his heart thump wildly in his chest. He hopes he doesn’t look contemplative, because there was nothing to think about.

“Then let’s do it for real.”

“Ao, be serious.”

“I mean it.” He says earnestly, warm hands finding their way to your own. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about… no, you – you’re all I’ve been thinking about. I want this so bad… don’t you? T-tell me you do.”

The vessels in your heart pinch together.

“Of course I want this.” You murmur. “It’s just…,” hard to explain that you feel like a cloud. Shapeless and confusing to everyone you interact with. “You need better, Ao. Someone that can be tsahìk. More than just a decent shot or healer. Someone that can lead… and if we’re being honest,” your lips quiver, breaking out into a teary laugh. “I’m a really horrible weaver.”

There is silence for a few moments. Then, granular particles on your face.

“D-did you just throw sand at me?”

“Yeah, I threw sand at you.” He replies matter-of-factly. “And I’ll do it again.”

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“I’m not going to listen to you berate yourself.” He starts again. “You’re not a decent shot, you’re a great shot. Maybe healing isn’t your forte, but you patch me up just fine and honestly, I can’t really stomach the thought of anyone else doing it. You have an energy the People hang onto. Our friends love you, our elders love you, my parents love you. Above all that, I love you.”

He cups your cheek softly, pupils staring tenderly.

“Do you get it? The weaving… it’s true, that cannot be helped.” He chuckles, and you shove him gently in the chest. He catches your hand. Holds it against his heart. “But my tsahìk only needs to be one thing. You.”

As you lean in to catch his lips in a searing kiss, it feels easier than you might have expected.

No resistance, nothing holding you back, keeping you tethered by the hair or spine. Really, it’s like the air is pushing you forward into someone that it knows will catch you. Every time.

“It might be hard.” You say breathily when you pull apart.

The road ahead was something that struck great fear in you. Ao’nung has the urge to chase your lips again and never let them go, but he wrestles it just enough.

“Hey.” He tugs on your chin, crooked smile playing on his mouth. “You said you like a challenge, remember?”

Your amused laugh mixes into the smiley kiss after smiley kiss you press onto his lips. The reef is none the wiser… these kisses look just like the first one. Sure, this time they were real, but maybe that meant less than you thought.

The love was always there. A grain of sand could see it.

a/n: reblogs + tags + comments are always appreciated 🪐🩷 thanks for reading and i hope it made you feel good!! did you notice any easter eggs?

[yunarim]

hello if you can still ask, I'm interested in asking for headcanons for pomefiore reacting when his mc fem decides to interpret nxde from g-idle in a karaoke night at the cafe de azul or well wherever, you decide the place if you want xd that would be all Thank you and take care <33

・┆✦ʚ I don't give a love ɞ✦ ┆・— yes, i'm nxde

⌞summary⌝ — pomefiore reacting to fem!reader interpreting (g)i-dle's 'nxde' during the karaoke night

⌞tags⌝ — female reader (she/her pronouns but none were actually used), sfw, reader wears an outfit similar to shuhua's (that black and red one girls wore during the chorus), octavinelle makes a cameo in the intro because why not

“Hey, Shrimpie!~”

You turn to Floyd, still sipping your drink, and tilt your head.

Apparently Azul called for him while you two were chatting, and there he is, looking absolutely exhausted after the discussion they had. You actually wondered what that was about since everyone seemed rather hyped up for an unknown to you upcoming event.

“Now now, Floyd,” Jade approached you, refilling your drink as you threw a quick suspicious glance at them, grinning slightly. “Don’t rush it.”

“It’s boring,” Floyd replied, taking a seat next to you. “Plus, Shrimpie doesn’t like it when we’re just throwing hints and such. Right, Shrimpie?”

“Right you are,” you nodded. “So, what’s the deal?”

“Azul’s going to hold a karaoke night!!” Floyd announced quite excitedly, waiting for you to react, and attempted to squeeze you once glimpses of interest appeared in your eyes, but you quickly dodged.

“Sounds nice,” you answered. “You want me to perform or what? I don’t think I can pull off any of Twisted Wonderland songs though, they’re still rather unfamiliar, but if you give me some time, then…”

“Quite the opposite, Prefect,” now it was Azul who appeared before you, giving you a project plan, perfectly neat and nicely arranged as always. “We would like you to sing something from your world.”

You pressed a finger to your chin, lost in thoughts. The idea itself was quite appealing but that meant you needed to translate a song to Twisted Wonderland language, moreover, which concept exactly should you consider, and what about outfit, makeup and—

“Of course we’re not putting any pressure on you!” Azul announced, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. “If you’re worried about the cost, then leave it to us. Also regarding the translation of the song, we can help you too. Just choose something catchy and remarkable, you’re our rising star, after all.”

“Great then,” you agreed, putting your sign on the contract he pulled out of nowhere, much to Floyd and Jade’s delight. “I’ll leave everything to you then, but… I’ll translate the song myself. Just provide me with some amount of money after I calculate everything.”

“It’s a deal then~” Azul hummed. “I’m awaiting your performance.”

Next day you show up a bit earlier than expected. Octavinelle trio turns to you, as if questioning why you came up when it’s literally two hours before the show starts, but you reassuringly smile. 

“Good evening, everyone. If you’re wondering why I came that early, then well…” you show them a heavily-looking bag you brought with you. “I need to get ready. Oh and please make sure no one enters the dressing room while I’m there, alright? I don’t want to ruin a surprise.”

“Don’t worry, Shrimpie!~” Floyd reassures you. 

“Good luck today, Prefect,” Jade nods.

“Oh I won’t disappoint you.”

And with that you enter the dressing room, ready to impress.

・┆✦ʚ did you think i'd just laugh as if?

—♡ VIL SCHOENHEIT praises your outfit choice and makeup skills the very second he sees you getting up on the stage. It’s dark, and the music has no instrumental intro, so you’re just standing there, waiting for the lights to turn on, and the moment you say the very first word of the lyrics, he’s immersed into your performance.

—♡ He saw the pamphlet, a song from your world translated to their language sounded quite intriguing, but he couldn’t even think you would choose such an… idiomatic song. 

—♡ He also assumes there’s a dance to this song, but you don’t move much due to the outfit and because there’s karaoke night being held after all, not an idol-like show. But he still catches what he guesses is supposed to be signature moves. 

—♡ He’s a performer himself, so he’s highly concentrated on your devotion, and needless to say you polished this song to perfection. 

—♡ He wonders if you’re implying some message to students, given you’re the only female in this school, and the way you grin slyly makes him realize that you definitely are trying to say something through the song. 

—♡ “The way I talk is kinda dumb But I’ve got a sexy, sexy figure” is definitely an allusion to how people preserved you when you first got here, and Vil’s ready to make sure you’re not getting unwanted attention and any misconceptions. In case you wish to know how to handle such situations, you can always ask him for a piece of advice. —♡ The moment you start singing the chorus part, he’s smirking proudly.  —♡ You’re absolutely stunning. He wants you to release this song officially, would you like to work under the label he models? 

—♡ “I’m born nude and you’re the pervert" line makes him notice someone in the Lounge coughing out of embarrassment because you’re being incredibly sharp. 

—♡ After the performance ends, he joins you in the dressing room, praising you. He also asks why you choose the song with such lyrics, and tells you if there’s someone or something bothering you, don't be afraid to ask him for help. 

—♡ You appreciate it, but there’s actually no need, given you feel extremely confident after delivering the message through the song.

—♡ Ends up rewatching fancams someone took and uploaded on MagiTube the next day right before going to sleep. 

—♡ Wants you to release the song with the MV provided so badly.

・┆✦ʚ put on my beautiful self

—♡ It's obviously ROOK HUNT who's ready to collapse the very second you make your way to the stage.

—♡ The way the fur layer on the black corset emphasizes your collarbones; the way fishnet stockings suits you; the way the scarlet satin ribbons on your skirt glisten and follow your movements like the waves of the sea; the way your hands look immensely elegant enveloped in silk gloves; the way the jewelry shines in the dim warm light of the Lounge… 

—♡ Sevens, just how stunning can you be? Spare him and his poor weak heart and—

—♡ “Twisted Lorelei that don’t need no man” part makes him want to clap the second you sing this line, but he manages to refrain from doing that in order not to ruin your performance. 

—♡ Your gaze aimed right at the audience is sharp and piercing, he wonders if you’re trying to deliver the message with the song to a certain someone. He also hopes there’s no one who actually hurt you by saying something inappropriate. Otherwise he would ask if you need his help.

—♡ He also feels like you don’t, given how enchantingly beautiful you look now, your confidence radiating from your every move and every line you sing. 

—♡ “Baby, how do I look?” — ah Sevens, great you asked!! He’s already filming a fancam to appreciate it once more later (not just once though–). And you do look like you’re about to crush a lot of hearts today, as well as end up breaking someone’s unwanted comments about your behavior and your looks. 

—♡ “Excusez-moi, to all of you who are sitting here, if you were expecting some rated R show” line is the moment Rook thinks one bouquet of splendid flowers isn’t enough to show his gratitude for your braveness and confidence he absolutely adores and respects. 

—♡ The amount of appreciation he radiates actually equals all the audience’s adoration. 

—♡ As your performance ends, he’s the first to stand up and rush to the stage, presenting a bouquet of flowers to you. He then gently takes your hand in his, as if escorting you to the dressing room. 

—♡ He’s pretty sure people would make malicious comments about the meaning you tried to deliver, but worry not — Rook knows exactly who these people are, and he’s here to reassure you that you did the right thing.

—♡ (Also please consider Vil’s offer to record a music video—)

・┆✦ʚ you're welcome to throw those dumb popcorns —♡ It's EPEL FELMIER who screams out loud when you appear on the stage even before the song actually starts.

—♡ First years introduced cover dance festivals to him, he knows how important it is to show the support for the ones who perform.

—♡ He catches you throwing a quick smile at him, and he screams once more, saying you're literally the best!! Epel’s actually the best hype boy out there.

—♡ “The audience booed and shouted ‘You tricked me, you’re a liar!’” YES CRASH THEM, MAKE THEM DEVASTATED, RUIN THOSE STEREOTYPES!!

—♡ He enjoys the song so much, oh Sevens, you’re so brave and confident, he’s SOOO invested. And yet the more he listens, the more he wonders if you’re speaking from experience. If you are, then spill the tea, who’s been bothering you so much? He’s ready to throw some fists��

—♡ “I feel sick of those prejudice made by themselves” NO BECAUSE you’re being so real and true, he can’t stand it either when people misjudge someone because of their looks. 

—♡ He’s the first one to start screaming when the choruses come, and the audience just repeats after him. He respects you so much, not only your devotion, your outfit, makeup and voice are admirable, but you’re also confident, a truly self-made woman.

—♡ “Think outside of the box” JUST HOW TRUE YOU ARE!! Epel no longer sitting, he’s standing and even jumping, showing his appreciation as much as it even possible and causing the others to catch on his excitement. 

—♡ When the song ends, he shouts out “STAN YUU FOR CLEAR SKIN YOU MORONS!!”, not even caring for Vil’s reaction and upcoming scolding.

—♡ He can’t be stopped on the way to the dressing room, Epel literally can’t shut up for at least a moment, praising you and going all ‘you did so well’, ‘you’re so cool’, ‘you’re my ultimate bias forever’ and so on.

—♡ Feel free to tell him if there’s someone who’s bothering you, he can help. You’re not sure about his methods, but appreciate his good will. 

© yushiiae 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I’m in the mood for angst, so imagine when Adam revives as a sinner he’s just horribly depressed that he doesn’t do anything but lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Doesn’t help that there are people who don’t trust him as much as he trusts them

Adam laid there on his bed in the hotel wrapped up in blankets surrounded by pillows. The rooms that he shared a hallway with were empty save for Lucifer's down at the end, so in the middle of the night Adam swiped all the extra pillows and blankets to make a makeshift nest for himself.

He had taken to staring at the ceiling, he didn't want to be around people who barely tolerated him. The only reason he was even at this third rate hotel was because of the deal he made with Lucifer and his brat taking pity on him.

Adam still remembers the look she gave him, it made him sick.

He missed his home up in heaven, where he could be himself and not worry about anyone judging him. Adam had his own little garden he would go to when he would feel an ounce of stress.

Now all he had was a somewhat decent sized hotel room in Hell to hole up in.

All Adam wanted to do was go home, not just to heaven but to Eden. His true home the one he lost forever ago.

He was forced out of there like he was forced out of heaven. Fuck his life.

He only ever left to eat when all the hotel freaks had gone to bed, even then he'd hoard enough to get him through the next day so he wouldn't have to leave.

It's been six months.

At first Charlie tried knocking on his door trying to coax Adam out, but he didn't even have the energy to yell at her. He just ignored her until she went away.

She eventually stopped trying.

"So, this is what you do all day?"

Adam jumped at the voice and glared at the King who was now standing beside his bed. "What the- Get the fuck out!" He threw a pillow at Lucifer.

Lucifer dodged it with ease. "Charlie has been wondering where those pillows went. Come on, it's time to get your ass out of bed." He made a move to rip the blanket from Adam's bed only to get his hands slapped.

"Fuck off and leave me alone, asshole!!" Adam wrapped the blankets and his wings tighter around himself and turned away from Lucifer.

They remained in silence for so long Adam thought he left.

Until he felt a dip in the bed. "You, I get it. Falling from grace is a traumatic experience, not only that it's painful leaving your home behind."

Adam could feel his eyes get wet. "Like you care."

"I care." Lucifer placed a hand gently on Adam's back, he hoped it was as comforting as he meant it to be. "You can't spend your afterlife in bed, I've been there. Trust me."

The spot where Lucifer's hand was on his back felt hot through the blanket. "I'm fine."

"Yeah you look it." Lucifer commented. "Believe it or not Adam, I do give a shit. But I understand why you don't trust me or anyone here."

"No one trusts me either."

"Can you blame them?"

"Fuck off." Adam snapped, a tear rolled down his cheek. He's not the fucking bad guy here, he's been severely wronged!

Lucifer sighed and removed his hand. "I know you likely won't, but if you ever need someone to talk to my door is always open." He got up from the bed. "Maybe try coming down for a meal once in a while."

"Do you remember that song from Eden?" Adam asked, he wasn't sure what brought in the question but he had to know. "The sung at night?"

Lucifer blinked, yeah he remembered how could he forget? "Yeah, why?"

Adam didn't answer, he was too embarrassed to ask. It was a song that Lucifer would hum or sing to him to help him relax. He felt the weight return to his bed.

Lucifer laid down this time behind Adam leaving enough space between them. He started humming the melody of the song before softly singing the words. He watched as Adam physically relaxed and smiled. Lucifer pulled the blanket back slightly from Adam's head and gently ran his fingers through silky soft dark brown hair.

Adam felt his eyes grow heavy and he smiled small, he closed them and for a moment, just a moment, he could pretend he was back in Eden with his best friend and first love.

They both could pretend.