#and that day i learned that if you don’t get your rest; your rest will get you

[heesimp]

omg yes please write heehoon using that toy (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

part two of heehoon jerking off together…wow okay i learned that i reallyyy like writing this kind of stuff

warnings: heehoon jerk off together again, mxm (kinda), use of a sex toy, sunghoon catches heeseung watching porn and joins, double penetration of the toy, heehoon fantasized about reader again, mentions of sunghoon masturbating, subtly voyeurism, subtle praise.

-

It’s not a surprise that Heeseung and Sunghoon find themselves in this predicament again.

You just had to wear a dress that made your breasts spill out of the cups and while they don’t understand why you told them you needed your bra size remeasured because it was too small to the point where your tits didn’t fit in them anymore, the image of you without your clothes on was enough to make the drive silent on their way home.

But that was last night. It’s Saturday evening and the unusual silence of the apartment makes Sunghoon uneasy. He’s been cooped up in his room for the entire day, too worked up over a wet dream and thinking about you naked in just that little bra you described in such detail. He’s touched himself twice earlier today and willed himself not to make it a third if he isn’t getting any action. The tissues from cleaning up his cum sit in his trash bin as if to mock him so he goes for a drive to get his mind out of the gutter.

When he comes home, though, Heeseung’s door is cracked slightly ajar and Sunghoon can hear the clear sound of porn coming from inside of his room. The younger man laughs to himself and peeks inside to see Heeseung’s eyes closed with his fist wrapped around his cock. Sunghoon retreats into his room to grab his favorite toy—a doll complete with a torso, ass and pussy—before returning to Heeseung’s room.

“Can’t help it, can you?”

Sunghoon’s voice startles Heeseung and his hand momentarily freezes around himself. He’s half naked, bottom completely bare while his chest is covered by a black t-shirt. Sunghoon opens the door wider and folds his arms while resting his shoulder on Heeseung’s doorframe and chuckles to himself.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I know you’re thinking about Y/N,” Sunghoon tells him. He sees the way Heeseung’s cock twitches at the mere mention of your name. The video Heeseung plays on his laptop echoes and women moaning while being obliterated on screen makes Sunghoon half-hard. “You can’t stop jerking yourself off to her too, huh?”

Heeseung relents and averts his gaze back to the video and resumes pumping himself. Sunghoon watches the way his friend’s hand shifts up and down the harder the girls in the video get fucked and walks into his room to peek at the screen.

“Creampie compilation?” Sunghoon asks to himself more than to Heeseung, palming his cock over his pants with his free hand. “That shit’s hot.”

“I want to cum in her so bad,” Heeseung whines, squeezing himself as Sunghoon sits on the bed next to him. Heeseung watches him push the toy on his clothed cock and as he grinds against the silicone. “I need her pussy.”

“I want to fuck her so hard she feels me for days.” Sunghoon moans when he sees cum dripping from the woman in front of him. He squeezes the toy’s ass and bucks his hips. Heeseung moans too.

“Are you gonna use that thing?”

Sunghoon quirks his eyebrow. “Maybe. Why? Do you want to use it?”

“Wanna watch you use it first.”

“Didn’t know you were into that.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Man, let me pretend it’s Y/N. I want to watch you fuck her.” Sunghoon unbuckles his belt and laughs, pulling himself out of his pants and boxers until they’re pooled around his ankles. His cock is hard and he spits on his hand before touching himself to the video before him.

“Got any lube?” Heeseung hands him a bottle without taking his eyes off of the screen and grunts as he watches yet another creampie clip. Meanwhile, Sunghoon squirts some of the lube onto his cock and onto the folds of his toy, using one hand to pump himself and the other to rub it all over the silicone. Heeseung looks at Sunghoon’s hand when he hears the wet squelching.

“I’d stick my fingers in her like this.” Sunghoon pushes his index and middle fingers inside, coating them with the lube while pretending it’s your arousal that touches him while Heeseung keeps stroking his dick. “I wanna see her pussy open up for me.”

“Fuck. That’s so good.”

“I’d slap her little cunt too.” Sunghoon pulls himself back and smacks the tips of his fingers against it until the sound becomes louder than the moans from the screen. “Make her all bruised and sensitive.”

“Shit, yeah.” Heeseung bites his lip. “Put your cock inside. I wanna see her ride you.”

“Like this?” Sunghoon teased, positioning the toy until the folds envelop only his tip. Both hands secure around the waist as he keeps it hovering above him.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.” Sunghoon obliges, sinking the toy right into his hardened dick. He moan and looks up at Heeseung’s ceiling as his eyes squeeze shut.

“She feels so good,” Sunghoon moans breathlessly. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had.”

Heeseung watches his friend lift the toy up and down his cock and notes the way Sunghoon’s balls bounce too. He squeezes his cock harder. “You think she’d let you cream her? For real?”

“She better.” His balls slap against the toy. “I wanna see that pussy all white and sticky. I’d fuck it back into her if she’d let me.”

“Fuck, you’re really good at this.”

“At what?”

Heeseung laughs. “Talking.”

Sunghoon bounces his legs until his thrusts are meeting the movement of his hands. “You like watching me get off?”

“Only if we’re talking about Y/N.” Heeseung rolls his eyes while Sunghoon laughs. His friend gets too inside of his own head.

“I want to watch you fuck her too, you know. I’d kill to feel her mouth around me while you’re inside her.” Sunghoon laughs when Heeseung emits a deep, long groan. “I know you’re into that. Two big dicks abusing her holes like we do to this toy.”

Memories of the first time they jerked off together come back to Heeseung. He thinks of himself and Sunghoon in the living room when he brought out this toy for the first time and remembers the feeling of his cock rubbing against his friend’s as the toy stretched around them. It took only a little bit of convincing. Heeseung can’t deny that he really loved the feeling of Sunghoon’s hardness against his own arousal. It felt otherworldly, almost. That makes his hand move up and down even faster.

“Put her on the bed and fuck her,” Heeseung says in a haste. He gestures to Sunghoon with his head and the sheer desperation in Heeseung’s voice makes Sunghoon click his tongue, but he doesn’t disobey.

He watches Sunghoon pull the toy off of him and sees his cock bounces as his balls glisten from the precum too. Sunghoon turns around, still with his pants and boxers around his ankles, and pushes the toy onto the mattress with its pussy presented to him. Heeseung grunts as his friend smears his tip over the wet folds and pretends you’re looking at him with wide eyes as you grope yourself. That makes Heeseung grip his balls and squeeze them as if your hand could reach out to touch him too.

Sunghoon sinks in slowly and his deep moan is louder than the video on Heeseung’s computer. He doesn’t hold back either, putting both hands on the mattress below while his hips slang to push his dick in and out of the toy. Heeseung’s mouth hangs ajar as he watches his friend fuck the toy pussy and hears the hollow sound of the silicone as it gets pounced into, wishing it was your pussy that talks back.

“I think you like watching me fuck people,” Sunghoon says with an edge to his voice. He looks and Heeseung and moans when he realizes his friend’s hand hasn’t decreased in speed. “Imagine if we both fucked her pussy.”

“I’m so close.” Heeseung squeezes his balls as he twists his wrist up and down his dick.

“Fuuuck. Her little pussy’s gonna make me cum too.”

“I want to hear her beg for our cum.” Heeseung grunts and widens his legs further.

Sunghoon feels himself drawing closer too. “Fuck, fuck. Find a video.”

“A video?”

“Someone begging for cum!” Sunghoon exclaims, eyebrows furrowing as sweat stains his forehead. Heeseung types with one hand and does his best to open his bookmarks without clicking on anything he doesn’t want to see. He’s got enough porn stashed for a rainy day and knows the exact video he needs to get off you.

“You’ll love this.” Heeseung turns the laptop towards Sunghoon, who pulls his cock out of the toy and walks closer to his friend. “It flows out of her.”

“Come here.”

Sunghoon’s command makes Heeseung push his cock towards his friend, who brings his own against him. Heeseung winces at the still-unfamiliar feeling of somebody’s dick pressing against his own but welcomes the warmth when he sees Sunghoon pushing the toy’s pussy over both of their tips. He pretends it’s you they’re fucking.

“Fuck me,” Heeseung moans when Sunghoon starts to thrust against him. “Her pussy’s sensational.”

Sunghoon grunts, eyes focusing on the video beside them. “Good girls like cum stuffed inside of them.”

“Give me your fucking cum!” the girl in the video begs. “I want a creampie. Can’t you see how much I want it?”

“I’ll give it to you,” says Sunghoon. Heeseung, lost in his ability to think and function properly, thrusts against Sunghoon too. “Oh shit, Hee. Keep going. Fuck her pussy too.”

“Need your cum in me now! Please, please, please give it to me.”

“Fuck. I’m cumming.” Heeseung feels his balls start to tighten and clenches his jaw as Sunghoon pushes against his cock with more force.

“Cum! Cum in me!”

“I’m cumming too.” One final thrust from Sunghoon makes Heeseung’s cock burst and the flow of his cum makes Sunghoon cream the toy too, both of them moaning your name as they reach their absolute peak.

They don’t stop thrusting, riding out their collective high as their mixed cum slathers their warm cocks and bubbles out of the toy. Sunghoon feels their combined loads seep down to his balls the more he slaps it against the toy.

The video ends and Heeseung folds the laptop shut as he pulses against Sunghoon, who holds the toy still above them as he finishes cumming. He only pulls it away after making sure both of them have released every last drop and watches as it flows out and onto Heeseung’s softening dick.

“Gets better every time,” Sunghoon whispers, bringing his fingers to rub the toy’s folds and stuff their cum back inside. “You good?”

“I want to try double penetration with Y/N even more now…Is it weird that I liked that? A lot?”

“Nah.” Sunghoon tosses Heeseung a tissue box. “Whatever helps you get off.”

***

please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed :) x

[madlori]

Facebook Official

whoops my hand slipped and I banged out 1800 words of fix-it fic in like an hour. btw i think the Abby connection is dumb but I'm making it work.

Three years after reconciling with Buck, newly engaged to him, Tommy gets a phone call from a certain former dispatcher...who's just seen some interesting news via a Facebook Relationship Status post.

*****

(also on AO3)

To say that the phone call blindsided him would have been the understatement of the century.

He was just sitting at home watching the game, having a beer, minding his own business. Evan was on shift — must be a busy one, he’d only gotten two text messages all evening, one bitching about not having had time to eat dinner and the other about idiots who texted while driving.

His phone rang. Unknown number. Normally he wouldn’t have picked up, but with all the wedding preparations, a lot of vendors were calling. It was a little late to be making business calls, just after 8 pm, but he’d quickly learned that business norms meant little in the wedding planning business. “Hello?”

“Tommy?”

“Yes?” A woman’s voice. Familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

Pause “You’re marrying Buck??” A slightly hysterical note of disbelief entered the woman’s voice as she said the name.

And all at once, he knew who it was. Shit fuck motherfucker why didn’t we get ahead of this one.

“Abby. Um…”

“Evan Buckley? My ex-fiancé and my ex-boyfriend are marrying each other?”

“Small world, huh?” he said, going for levity.

“Buck’s not even gay!”

“No, he’s not. He’s bisexual.”

“I’m…okay. I’m sorry, it’s just…this is a lot of information to get all at once.”

“How did you even find out? Don’t you live in Phoenix?”

“Buck posted one of those relationship status things on Facebook.”

“Oh. I barely use Facebook.”

“Me either, but Buck does, and I hadn’t been on there in awhile, but I logged on and that was like the third post I saw!”

Tommy remembered the day Buck had made the post. They hadn’t really put their relationship on social media much - Buck posted photos of them on Instagram sometimes - and he hadn’t done one of those stupid relationship status things for them until they got engaged. They’d trawled their phones for the right pic, eventually settling on one taken at a 118 barbecue of them together, smiling, arms slung around waists. He hadn’t said so, but he’d gotten a little emotional over what Evan wrote on the post:

Evan Buckley is engaged to Tommy Kinard.

“It’s been a long road, but we made it. Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with this man. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I love you!”

“Well…I’m sorry that was an unpleasant surprise for you,” Tommy said, carefully.

She sighed. “I don’t know that it was…unpleasant. But a surprise, for sure. How do you even know Buck? How did you meet?”

“We’re both firefighters, it’s not that surprising that we could have met, is it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“And he was at my old firehouse. The one you refused to ever come to. But I guess you went when you were with him, didn’t you?”

“You never wanted me to meet your friends. I guess I found out why when you broke off our engagement.”

“I’m sorry, Abby. I know I said it then, but I’ll say it again now. I lied to myself, I lied to a lot of people. It took me almost trapping you in my lie, when you did not deserve that, to break me out of it.”

“I forgave you ages ago. We don’t have to go over all that again.”

“I met Evan…I guess it’s four years ago? We started dating not long after. I, um…was the first man he dated. I guess I made him realize some things about himself.”

“Just transforming lives everywhere you go, huh?” she said, a teasing note entering her voice. Tommy was happy to hear it.

“Yeah, well, I almost screwed it up. I broke up with him six months later. He was diving in headfirst, too fast, just all in and wanting to move in with me.”

“That sounds just like Buck.”

“I panicked and ended it before I could get in any deeper with him.”

“It was too late, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I was already in love with him.”

“He’s easy to love. Too easy,” she said, quietly. “But you got back together, obviously.”

“Took a little while. Almost a year. I dated a few guys, he dated a few people, but nothing stuck for either of us - I know now it’s because we were still hung up on each other. We have a friend in common and we’d hear about each other through him…but I didn’t really see him until we ended up on a major incident call together. I sustained a minor injury - just a scrape, really - and Hen from his house patched me up. I was sitting there on the ambulance deck, more or less left to myself, and he came waltzing up with that eyebrow raised like he knew all my secrets.” Abby chuckled, like she knew the exact expression he was describing. “He just said, are you done being fucking stupid yet?”

“And you were.”

“Yep. I was. He took me home that night and we’ve barely been apart since. Got engaged a year later.”

“You sound happy.”

“I am. I’m ecstatic. I can’t believe I got a second chance with him. I kicked myself for ending it like that, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do. You thought you weren’t enough for him to want to keep you.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s dumb.”

“That’s what he says.”

They sat there not speaking for what felt like a long time.

“Well…” Abby said. “I feel like I just unloaded on you out of the blue.”

“You kinda did,” he said, smiling.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”

“I’m glad you did. You know…Evan and I didn’t realize we had you in common until our six month anniversary dinner. In fact, it was that revelation that sort of started us on the way to breaking up for awhile. But that’s been so long now and it hasn’t come up in a few years. I almost forgot about it.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said, her grin audible. “I’m glad you’re both happy. I have a lot of regret over Buck, how I left things with him. I assume he’s told you.”

“He has. If it helps, he doesn’t have any bad feelings towards you.”

“It does help. Thank you for that.” She sighed. “I’ll let you go. I just saw that Facebook post and spiralled a little bit.”

“Understandable.”

“Please tell Buck I say hello. And I wish you both so much happiness, Tommy.”

“Thank you. And I will.”

She hung up. Tommy stared at the phone for a moment, then opened his text message thread with Evan.

You’re not gonna believe what just happened.

*****

When Evan got home at 7 am, they had their usual two hours to share breakfast and maybe a quick fuck before Tommy had to be on shift himself. They tried to sync their schedules so their off days coincided, but it didn’t always work.

“Holy shit, why didn’t we get ahead of that one?” Evan said as he burst in the door, not even bothering with “hello.” His shoes and duffel went flying and he bustled into the kitchen where Tommy was mixing the pancake batter.

“Yeah, I had the same thought,” he said, leaning over to kiss him hello.

Evan went to the coffee pot. “I didn’t even think about it, that she might see.”

“Neither did I.”

“How’d she sound?”

“Really surprised at first. Incredulous, even? Like in the what-are-the-odds way.”

“Kinda like when I found out we’d both dated her.”

“Yeah, but you’re my himbo now,” Tommy said, smirking. “No, she was just shocked. I gave her the quick rundown, and she ended up congratulating us.”

“Did you tell her it’s her fault we broke up for a year?” Evan said, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“I think the proper person to bear the fault is me.”

“And also me. Who asks someone to move in after six months? Before even saying ‘I love you?’ And when you had a house!”

“I say we blame Josh. He got you all juiced up with that damn Glee speech.” After they’d reconciled, Evan had given him chapter and verse on his mind-boggling thought processes on that last fateful day.

“He got me feeling guilty, is what he did. That I judged you for lying to Abby. Overcorrecting is one of my special gifts.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, while I’m overcorrecting…why don’t we invite her?”

Tommy looked up. “To our wedding?”

“Sure, why not? She can flip a coin whose side she sits on,” Evan said, grinning like the mischievous imp that he was.

“Evan, darling, love of my life, we are not inviting our ex to our wedding.”

He scrunched up his face. “Ew. ‘Our’ ex? Makes it sound like we were in a throuple.”

“Ew, indeed.”

He cocked his head. “I dunno, though. The thought’s kinda sexy.”

“Not to me! No vaginas anywhere near my bedroom. Kinsey 6, remember?”

“Of course, my apologies.”

Tommy looked at his innocent wide-eyed face for a few beats. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Can I help it if the thought of two people I have found intensely attractive doing sexy things is appealing?”

“Can I help it if the thought of Chris Hemsworth going down on you has gotten me through some lonely nights?”

“Okay, I get the point. Shutting up now.” 

Tommy put a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Your shift okay?”

“Fine. Busy. I’m a bit wired. Do we have time for me to bounce on your dick for a bit before you have to head out?”

“For that, I’ll make time.” He sat down at the table at Evan’s side with his own pancakes. Evan slid a hand over and squeezed his thigh.

“Missed you, though,” he said, chewing.

“I always miss you when you’re on shift,” Tommy said.

Evan looked up at that, meeting his eyes. “Tommy, sometimes I miss you when you get up to get a beer.”

The simplicity, the sincerity of it made his chest tighten a little. He leaned forward, put his fingers under Evan’s chin and pulled him into a soft kiss, just like the first time. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too.”

“And we are not inviting my ex-fiancee who is also your ex-girlfriend to our wedding.”

Evan grinned. “Deal.”

[endursent]

- Opened doors

【 content; sunday x reader , astral express sunday , cockwarming (sunday giving) , anal sex , comforting , halovian biological headcanons , penis haver!reader , NSFW 】

【 note; this is for the penis havers and wanters out there of any gender. stay strong in the perpetual drought of reader-insert fics dedicated to you, you're stronger than any troops. can of course be enjoyed by anyone, as usual no gender nor appearance described. 】

【 word count; 2.450 | read on ao3 】

You had barely started and Sunday was already digging his fingernails into your sides—whether in protest or pleasure wasn’t clear by the action alone. He was so still and stiff you wondered if he had changed his mind. 

  “Sunday, if this is too much, we can—“ 

  “No—it’s fine, i-it’s fine,” his words aren’t very convincing, mumbled and stuttering as they are, so you try again. 

  “I can finish tending to your wings first, then we can do this,” it was slightly your own fault, you had offered him a seat while you go through his thinning wings to remove any feathers that have loosened but cling stubbornly to the ones around it… and Sunday is having a hard time already, giving him options isn’t the brightest idea right now while he’s adjusting. 

  He frowns slightly, chin on your left shoulder as his fingers stop clenching your poor skin and he instead wraps his arms around your torso, holding firmly. “No…”

  It’s impossible to read his thoughts on a normal day, and you expected it to be easier today—this isn’t your first time helping him through moulting, it takes several weeks to complete the process for adult Halovians and you’ve helped him through it once before… though it took some convincing to let you help. 

  Sunday is stubborn and reclusive, though he’s less avoidant now after so long with the Astral Express… he learned the hard way that trying to ignore or avoid certain members only makes them more persistent and determined, it’s still a great effort to get him to accept help. Not because he doesn’t want it—he does, so badly—but because he neither wants to take your time nor waste it on something he could do by himself and has always done.

  Unfortunately for him, you need to know his thoughts to help. “Hm, well, I won’t start until I know you feel well enough for it,” your own hands resting on his hips clap his skin lightly, just enough for a small smacking sound to snap in the air. 

  Instantly, he straightens as if a sudden burst of energy knocked him on the forehead, his golden eyes squint at you with the greatest offence he has shown. “What must I do—to prove it to you?”

  Almost as if defiantly, he clenches even further around you—he’s been holding on tightly already—and nearly forces a groan from your throat. He’s so damn warm, inside and out. It’s a dangerous combo, to have him warming your dick, and giving you that defiant look at the same time… you almost give in. Almost. 

  But you don’t particularly feel like having him pass out on you from the feeling of having his wings touched as thoroughly as you will as well as the intensity of cockwarming you at the same time. You prefer to have him aware and enjoying it just as much as you are. 

  “How about naming every world in the Tiberius system backwards?” 

  His wings twitch in agitation. “That—that’s not even a real star system.”

  “Yes it is,” you insist. “I read about it.”

  “Then why don’t you name them and—stop stalling?” he says, voice tinged with annoyance and impatience. 

  A smile spreads on your lips. “I’ll get started then.”

  He clicks his tongue in frustration. You didn’t want him to name anything—if Sunday had started blabbering some made-up names to get you to start and stop talking in desperation, you would have known he wasn’t in the position to do this. 

  Sometimes, you do like to use the perfectly functional brain between your ears. 

  His wings itch and ache, a dull throb that isn’t particularly bad during daytime when he’s out and about—but as soon as he takes his coat off, it intensifies until he massages for a long enough time or puts a salve between the feathers.

  As soon as your hands leave his sides—the assured hold that’s been anchoring him since he sank down onto your stiff length—he almost feels off-balance, but it’s quickly rectified once your fingers touch his wings and he whimpers at the touch. You had barely slid your thumb under the ridge of his left wing and between the first two feathers, and he was already twitching and shifting subtly, causing your touch to falter as his hips moved just little bit and you almost give in to the desire to snap your hips upwards, but rein in every single thought and willpower you can muster. 

  Maybe this is going to be harder for you than it will be for him. 

  Swallowing thickly and continuing despite your extremely distracting throbbing inside of his hole, you carefully and firmly—but gently of course—nudge and press against the sensitive feathers of his wings. You comb two out and the base of his wings appear thinner, your fingers brush by feathers that are emerging and they feel impossibly soft and delicate. 

  Halovian wings are sensitive—but they’re not necessarily stimulating, having them touched tickles at most, yet during a moulting when the flesh and feathers are so fresh and vulnerable, it somehow amplifies the feelings fivefold and can promote certain feelings of pleasure. 

  Sunday’s eyes flutter closed, eyelashes equally soft as his wings as they brush against his cheeks and he leans into your touch instinctively. “Mmh… wait, go back—there, again… just a little…” 

  You follow any instructions he gives, despite the way your heart races with every movement he makes the slightest movement, with the way his expression contorts into comfort and a focus on himself—where he can only feel the overwhelming touches and barely has room to consider your presence outside of the way you stretch him with a mild, twitching burn. 

  Releasing one wing to reach for the oils he had prepared on the bedside table next to you, Sunday peers his eyes open, but closes them again when he sees why you stopped. 

  Outside of the now two times you’ve done this, you don’t generally touch Sunday’s wings… mostly because touching them—or stroking them specifically is an intimate act that despite your relationship (that has never quite been defined, as he finds an escape at the mention of it) he’s been hesitant about letting you do. And you’re not one to be pushy if he feels uncomfortable, a step forward can quickly become two steps backwards if you push too hard. 

  But despite the difficulty of navigating this delicate companionship… you find it to be worth the hassle, after all, having his slim—though a bit boney lately, the moulting requires a lot of energy and nutrition to sustain itself, and you imagine he hasn’t taken the best care of himself that he could—body pressed to yours, his soft whimpers and breaths trembling with every press of your fingers as you carefully massage the sore appendages. Your own cock is buried deep within him, throbbing desperately for movement that takes half your focus to suppress, while his twitches stiffly between your stomachs, now leaking slightly against your skin as a feather that was half-loose detaches when you nudge it only slightly. 

  Sunday’s lips part as your finger touches the area where the feather just fell, and you feel a deep urge to kiss him, to slide your tongue between his open lips and feel the sounds he makes instead of just hearing them. But you fear that might completely overwhelm him to a point it might make him dizzy. You will have plenty of opportunities to kiss him later. 

  The oils both are both cooling and soothing, helping ease the ache that comes with the development and lowering of new feathers. It’s always a bit funny to see how his wings get shorter and thinner, like a baby bird, before they grow again into the expressive appendages that you love so much. 

  “Sometimes,” you start talking and Sunday’s eyebrow twitches, brought out of his thoughts and focus. “There’s six wings, where are the other four now?” 

  “Stop talking,” he mumbles. Half your focus is on tending to his wings and the other half on holding back from thrusting fiercely into his welcoming heat. Thus as soon as you open your mouth, your hands still. 

  “I’m curious,” you hum. “Tell me later?”

  He huffs as your hands start moving again, you’re almost finished anyway. “Fine…”

  Feeling a little mischievous, and pouty by his dismissive response, you lightly pinch the ridge of his wing where it bends—and immediately, Sunday jerks in surprise, his wing stretching fully as his eyes fly open and his entire body tenses. He hisses your name as he clenches so tightly around you, your vision nearly dots, warmth and sparks shooting through you like an electrical line and you can’t stop yourself from pushing further up into him.

  With both of you surprised and disoriented by each other, as well as you finally granting the delicious friction of movement—if accidental—Sunday grasps your shoulders tightly and inhales sharply. “C-careful…!” he blinks, the combined tingle of his wings and the pressure of your cock is a delicate balance that he’s very quickly losing hold of. 

  Your breath shakes when it leaves your lips, you feel dizzy with need, the suppressed desire you worked so hard to keep under wraps while you tended to him is very quickly slipping between your fingers. “Sunday… I’m not—sure I can…”

  He clenches his jaw, in equal trouble with himself as you are. “You got m-most of it… we can finish later,” it’s a long process of checking and preening through over a few weeks, you already found seven, that’s more than enough for one day. 

  It’s all you needed to hear, you’ll take good care of him after—now, you desperately need to move. You already prepared plenty of protein-rich snacks to promote a healthy moult, and you’re sure you’ll both be hungry after this. 

  Sunday lets out a strange sound when your hand lays on his lower back and presses him closer, you other goes around his back—and you turn the two of you around, Sunday’s halo clanks against the headboard as he finds himself on his back, he groans slightly and hits you lightly on top of the shoulder. “Y-you—don’t do that while you’re inside of me!” he chides. The feeling of so much movement and how you twisted slightly made him cringe even as it also felt slightly good—only slightly, he won’t admit to more so you don’t get any ideas of rolling him around. 

  Any thought of further scolding leaves his mind like the scattering of ash after a fire has been stomped out as soon as you drag your hips back, halfway out—and move back in. Carefully. 

  Sunday swallows thickly, he feels a throb pulse throughout his entire body, behind his eyes and prick the ends of his fingers and toes. His stomach is wet, his cock freely leaking more than he’s sure he ever has before he’s even reached a high. He breathes your name and his nails dig into your shoulders, you seem so focused—but he wants your eyes to be on his. Before, he might’ve been embarrassed to lock eyes with you, but right now, he feels that he might cry if he doesn’t see you. 

  You blink, the breathy sound of his voice carrying your name to your ears snaps you out of your focus—to not thrust wildly, to not grab his hips in a bruising grip and lick the mess off his stomach. Your eyes move before your head does, and you see the watery squint of his eyes, the slight scrunch of his eyebrows and you fear you moved too fast—perhaps you should have pulled out before flipping him down, did it hurt him? 

  “Sunday,” your hand moves from the mattress next to his head, your fingers—still slightly fatty from the oil—brush over his cheek, his lower eyelid twitches as the tip of your thumb slides below it. “Are you okay? Should I stop?”

  Surprisingly, he smiles. A small tug of his lips that feels like a rare treat to see, it’s infectious and you smile in return. “Continue?” you ask, having stilled as soon as he uttered your name. Sunday nods, not quite trusting his voice to form words in a way that won’t sound embarrassing. 

  You lean down and press your lips to the edge of his eyes, they squeeze shut the moment before you touch them, and you feel a tinge of salt from unshed tears. 

  He trusts you, you take good care of him—always have, despite his tendency for doubts and isolation. You will always be there when he opens the door again. 

  The drag of your cock pulling back and pushing in again burns slightly, but with repeated movements, the feeling of pleasure overwhelms the pressure. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and tugs you into him, his thinned wings tickle your cheeks and shoulder as he presses his nose into your neck. Sunday can’t hold back his moans as you slide one hand under his thigh and lift it only slightly, managing a deeper angle without lifting his hips too much. 

  “Nghh—w-wait, that’s—“ Sunday jerks slightly as you rock into a particular spot inside of him, his entire body feels alight and his joints freeze as they are. His breath deepens as his back bows and his head tilts back, and you can’t help but press your lips to his, swallowing his moans and whines as his leg that’s not firmly in your grasp hooks around your waist. His words are muffled and clumsy against your lips as you increase your pace, he clenches around you in a rhythm that almost finishes you off instantly—but you can’t give in until he’s been satisfied. You need to hear and see him as he falls apart. 

  Sunday moves his head to the side and away from your lips, his expression pinching as the final thrust needed sends him over the edge and he cries out, and you quickly join him. 

  His head spins, Sunday feels like he’s in a whirl-winding pool—but realises the wetness he feels is just his own, and not pool water. He pants, squinting at you. “D-did you pull o-out?” he’s barely recovered enough to ask, and his body thrums so much still that he can’t feel it. 

  When you only give a sheepish smile, he pinches your ear, earning an; “ow!”. Sunday’s lips purse in a frown-pout. “You better help me clean up, then.”

  He doesn’t even need to ask.

[itsnotbird]

On the Run

Civil War! Bucky x Fem! Reader

Non-canon imagine

Warnings: Language, acts of violence, mentions of Winter Soldier Bucky.

Summary: Your domestic life was good with Bucky, that’s because the two of you were skilled in knowing when it was time to move on. Now, Steve Rogers is here to ‘save the day’, and it isn’t what you two needed.

You used lay awake for hours on end at night, staring at the ceiling, listening to any faint noises in the distance.

That was different now.

Your body knew rest, it knew a sense of comfort. Though it took you awhile to achieve it, and though it wasn’t perfect, the peace was all you needed.

Well, peace and him by your side.

The mattress wasn’t necessarily something to rave about, it was small and springy, but it was a bed and it was suitable. The sheets weren’t pillow soft, but none of those small things mattered when you’re twisted together with a man who made you feel secure no matter what.

You wake to the sun shining in from the kitchen window and the sound of the street of Bucharest outside. Eyes opening, you’re face to face with the picture in front of you. He’s painted golden by the sunlight, face relaxed. No night terrors came for neither you nor him so rest was the only thing in the air.

Hair falling across his forehead, you reach to push it back, then trace the bridge of his nose with the tip of your finger. You gently smile, your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“James.” You whisper, trying to softly stir him. “Bucky, the sun’s up.”

You’ve learned that there has to be a gentle approach to how you wake him, anything too hasty sends him into a panic. So that’s why you whisper to him before pressing your kiss to his face.

It’s a gentle kind of love, one that both of you have never experienced before. And after everything, all the things the two of you endured, it still makes Bucky wonder how it could be so easy for you to be so soft with him, to him. In his corrupted mind, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to be roused by you nuzzling against him. But you reassure him every single time that he will never know violence from your touch if you never have to know cruelty from his. Maybe that’s why the two of you are so content in the way you are. You spent your life under the thumb of abusers, now the slice of freedom you have feels like cool water.

Refreshing.

Bucky stirs awake, letting out a soft groan as you kiss the corner of his lips before pushing the covers off yourself.

Those blue eyes open to watch you stand from the bed and stretch your arms over your head, causing the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, to ride up past your thighs and flash your underwear to him.

He smiles to himself.

“I have a job to get to in thirty minutes.” You tell him, wandering off into the bathroom. “Nothing illegal this time…I think.”

Bucky rolls onto his back and chuckles to himself.

“It’s still illegal even if no one gets hurt doing it” He reminds, voice groggy.

You lean against the door frame as you brush your teeth, the toothpaste is foaming in your mouth as you mutter.

“I’m simply an undercover…intel associate who makes her living off of knowing things.” You say before going back to the sink to wash your mouth.

“You’re a spy for hire.” He states as he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

“So are you.” You argue, washing your face. “Don’t be the pot to my kettle, James.”

He rolls his eyes and comes to join you in the small bathroom, pulling sweatpants on as he does so. “To be fair…it’s not like you could go work at the coffee shop.” He says, grabbing your hips as he slides you out of the way so he can grab his own toothbrush.

You hum and pout as you reach for the hairbrush, the one the two of you share because that’s how life is now, sharing things.

“I did apply for the barista position, they rejected me because of my lack of people skills.” You joke.

Bucky looks at you in the mirror, giving you a shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”

You study his expression, then turn to face him with a small, hopeful smile.

“Good day or bad day?” You ask, making him stop and face you.

Bucky nods. “Good day.”

One thing you’ve come to learn is bad days for Bucky are common, more common than bad days for you. Every day, the two of you ask each other the same question just to gauge each other’s mood.

And if Bucky said it’s a good day for him, then it’s a great day for you.

You kiss his cheek, making him give you a sideways grin before you go search for clothes of your own. Buttoning your dark cargo pants, you tie up your boots and go to the dresser drawer that should be housing socks and underwear.

Instead, multiple weapons look back at you as you open it.

You place a pistol in your concealed holster, then pull a jean jacket on.

“It’ll take an hour, two at most.” You say, coming over to Bucky as he watches you.

Reaching for his watch on the counter, you set a timer for how long the job should take and then hand it to him. It’s something the two of you learned to do when separating from each other, something that eases anxiety.

Bucky takes the watch and fastens it to his wrist, then tilts your chin up to meet his eye.

“Don’t get hurt.” He states.

“I promise.” You say, searching his nervous look.

“Don’t…lose control.” He adds.

You swallow the scared feeling.

“Never again.”

With that, he kisses you meaningfully.

Intimacy was something the two of you took a painfully long time to get used to. The idea of letting someone that close was a nightmare, and it took weeks and months after the two of you got away for you to determine what feelings were what. So nothing was ever casual, not when the only relationship you have was each other. In Bucky’s mind, once he figured out how to function it, you were the only thing in life that mattered. He can’t express fear or worry or love in words properly, but he knows if he locks his fingers with yours or kisses you a certain way, you’ll understand.

You always understand.

It makes things easy, you do the talking when he can’t and he expresses feelings in ways you aren’t too sure how to sometimes.

“Be smart.” He says when you finally pull away.

At that, you scoff. “I’m always smart.”

- - - -

He’s found that people watching is calming, like it helps reconnect wires in his brain by learning strangers habits.

Walking through street vendors, he enjoys the fact that his mind has taken the day off on torturing him.

As he goes through the produce section, he stops at a kind man’s booth and looks at fruit in front of him.

Plums.

Your favorite.

He remembers all the stories you used to tell him to get him to fall asleep, how you grew up on an orchard, how you spent days wandering through the plum trees, picking the fruit and laying in the sun while sucking the juice.

He has a brief conversation with the kind man and purchases four plums, just because he knows you’ll look at him in adoration when he presents them to you.

Today was a good day, he slept dreamlessly, he woke up to you, he’s out in public and doesn’t feel on edge-

There.

Just there.

Across the street at the news stand.

Bucky sees the man running the stand look at him a certain way, a way he shouldn’t be looked at. Crossing the street, Bucky approaches the news stand in confusion, and just as he makes a few moves forward, the man flees.

The headline on the papers instantly ruins the previous good mood.

The Winter Soldier, accused of a major bombing.

As he rereads the paper over and over in disbelief, the watch on his wrist beeps.

You should be arriving home.

He heads for that direction.

- - - -

You shut the door behind you and toss the keys onto the counter, walking into the bathroom with the intention of taking a hot shower to wash away the stressful job you just completed.

It all went okay in the end, and a wad of cash is in your pocket, making you feel successful, but it was a harder job than anticipated.

You pull the shower curtain back and just as you reach to turn the water on, the energy around you shifts.

Immediately, you pause, holding your breath and trying to listen carefully.

There’s the sound of boots in the kitchen, and you would claim them to belong to Bucky but you know the sound of his footstep, you know the way his energy feels, you know the feeling you’d have if he were on the other side of the door, and it’s a feeling you do not have.

Steve Rogers looks around the small space.

It’s minimal, a hideout he’s imagined in his head with newspaper on the windows and a serious lack of personal touch. He looks at the made bed, then reaches to pick up something that confuses him a little.

Once he realizes it’s a woman’s bra, he instantly drops it in shock.

He moves into the kitchen, and picks up a notebook laying on a shelf next to vanilla wafers you eat when you’re overcome with nauseating headaches and can’t seem to eat anything else.

Just another lasting side effect from HYDRA.

He opens the notebook and immediately notices Bucky’s handwriting. Flipping through pages, he finds a photo taped to a page free of journal entries.

It’s of a woman.

You.

It’s from when the two of you first found the apartment, you’re taping news papers to the glass, looking rather unamused as your picture is taken when you’re just in a pair of boxer shorts and a band t shirt that falls off your shoulder.

You’re effortlessly gorgeous.

Your name is inked under the photo with the date, almost like he put it there to ensure he doesn’t forget you.

A common fear of Bucky’s.

Steve shuts the book with the intention of taking it back to Sam so they can look into who you are and why you’re in the journal. Sam warns him through the earpiece that german special forces were soon approaching, and he responds, saying that he understood.

You pull the gun from your belt and take a deep breath, slowly twisting the door knob to peer out of the bathroom.

Steve hears a sort of rustle, though it doesn’t come from the bathroom, it comes from behind him wear Bucky has joined the scene.

Standing silently, he looks at Steve with an unsure eye, then looks to the keys on the counter and knows that you are hiding out somewhere.

Steve turns to face his once best friend and lets out a shaky breath.

“Do you know me?” He asks him.

Bucky’s heart pounds in his ears as he pushes through brain fog and tries to run through plans in his head. If Steve Rogers was standing in his kitchen, and the headlines say The Winter Soldier bombed the UN, that means he had to flee fast.

“You’re Steve.” Bucky says. “I read about you in the museum.”

You listen closely to the conversation, trying to run through your own plan.

“I know you’re nervous. You have every reason to be…but you’re lying.” Steve says, still grasping the journal in his hand.

That’s making Bucky twitch.

“I wasn’t in Vienna, I don’t do that anymore.” He says, and out of his peripheral vision, he sees you open the bathroom door just a crack more.

“Well the people who think you did are coming here, and they aren’t going to take you alive.” Steve says in a serious tone, taking a step closer.

“That’s smart, a good strategy.” Bucky agrees, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Where’s the girl?” He asks.

Bucky’s jaw clenches. “What girl?”

Steve shakes his head at the lie, then rips open the journal and points to your picture. “This girl, Buck. Be smart about this, I can help you.”

Breathe.

He has to remind himself.

“It would be helpful if you left right now before it’s too late.” He says, setting his things down and taking off his gloves, flexing his metal hand.

Above you, you can hear heavy boots and your heart stops. You push the door open wider, sneaking your way behind the soldier that’s telling Bucky it doesn’t have to end in a fight, that he could leave with him right now and everything would be fine.

That’s when Steve hears the defining click of a gun being loaded.

“Did someone fail to tell you that this isn’t a task for Captain fucking America?” You say lowly, aiming the gun right at the man. Your heart pounds in your ears, adrenaline and anxiety make you feel sick.

Steve gives Bucky a look, then sighs.

“You had to pick a crazy one?”

Bucky shrugs.

You circle Steve, coming to his front to let him see the angry look in your eye. “You want to see crazy?”

Bucky hooks a finger around your back belt loop and pulls you to him, muttering something in Russian that Steve doesn’t understand. Whatever is asked of you, you look up at him with a slightly scared look. Bucky just stares back at you, giving you a slight head nod, encouraging you silently. That’s the only reason you turn your back on Steve and rush to the closet, grabbing your back pack.

“Buck, I came here to help.” Steve reasons once he’s recovered his shock.

“Leading special forces here doesn’t seem like helping.” Bucky states.

“It wasn’t me who did that.” Steve reasons.

That’s when agents invade the apartment.

It’s a fight, rough and seemingly never ending, and the entire time that you’re trying to escape, Steve is there, trying to reason with Bucky.

“James.” You shout as you’re struggling to hold your own against the three officers you keep dodging.

Immediately, he finds you, ripping the men away from you. Once free, you’re trying to make it down the stairs of the apartment building, but there’s no escape from the troops that are after you.

Barely processing what’s happening as Bucky breaks the glass of the stairwell window, he’s gripping your hand tightly and coaxing you to jump, falling a very far distance to a rooftop. It probably would hurt a whole lot more if Bucky didn’t break your fall.

Eyes squeezed shut as you roll off of him, you pant with gritted teeth. “This is going to bruise.”

“Walk it off.” He says, helping you up.

As the two of you start running, Bucky suddenly falls behind. You look over at him, only to see him battling a…

Cat?

Panicking, you shoot just above the figure, startling it enough to refrain from clawing Bucky’s throat out.

Jaguar hero? Panther man?

“Here kitty kitty.” You call, gaining the enemy’s attention, drawing it to you instead.

“Jesus, who is this chick?” Sam asks Steve as they start to join the scene.

Steve jumps from the window you did moments before. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out!”

Adrenaline is pumping through you, blocking out the crippling fear that this could end badly. There’s a sliver of hope that this would be like the times before on the run, where you find some place new to be from. You and Bucky dodge all the threats, having a shared mindset on just keeping the other alive.

You’ve been in bad situations, but as the two of you end up surrounded by agents and police on the freeway, you think this is far by the worst ending to come of things.

So much for a good day.

And now everyone is being handcuffed, including Steve and the man-bird he has as a sidekick.

Why are all the jungle animals after you today?

Your knees are kicked out from behind you, a man grips your hair and shoves you to the ground, causing you to yell out.

“Let her go!” Bucky shouts from beside you as he himself gets detained. “She had nothing to do with this.” He argues, desperately trying to get them away from you.

“James, what did you do?” You grunt, cheek pressed to the ground, looking at him in the same position.

“Nothing!” He argues. “Just do what they say, it’ll be okay, baby.”

“He bombed the UN.” An officer says, tone angry.

“He can’t even make toast without burning it- ow! I’m really not into hair pulling.” You seethe.

The adrenaline that was once keeping you going has worn down and you’re shaking on the inside as you’re shoved into the back of a military truck.

Your leg bounces up and down, and if his hands were free, he’d stop the motion.

It’s silent, the two officers sitting in front of the two of you stare.

“You still having a good day?” You ask Bucky.

He looks over at you with an irritated look, not irritated with you of course, just in general. “No. This is a very bad day.”

“Don’t speak to the prisoner, ma’am. He’s a threat.” The younger officer says to you.

“This guy’s a threat? He puts spiders outside instead of killing them.” You say with a tone of disbelief.

Bucky says your name as if to tell you to not waste your breath.

You don’t listen of course.

“Hey, why am I not a threat?” You ask.

“You didn’t bomb the UN.” The man reasons.

They’re still stuck on that.

“Maybe I did. You’re not an expert, you weren’t there. Now, I’m not gonna admit it because I know how you narcs work, but I’m going to make you wonder.”

Bucky starts to laugh before the second officer orders the both of you to be quiet.

- - - -

Of course they separate you.

Of course they lock Bucky in some kind of inhuman looking box to make sure he can’t escape and of course they throw you into a room with nothing but a table, two chairs and a surveillance camera.

You try to get out of a good twenty minutes, then scream at the camera for answers, shouting questions.

Steve stands in the office and watches the monitor, eyes flickering back between your live meltdown to Bucky who sits still in his confinement and doesn’t do anything.

“Who’s she?” Stark asks, curious at the scene.

“That would be the side kick.” Sam answers, chuckling as you lunge one of the chairs at the camera.

Natasha joins the men with a file in her hand.

“This is all I could find on her.” She says, handing the folder to Steve.

He reads the information, then gets some sort of clarity.

“I want to talk to her.” He says.

“Absolutely not.” Shannon immediately says.

“She’s how we get through to him.” He argues.

There’s a moment of uncertainty, because the last thing they need is to get into more trouble.

But they do it anyway.

You’re sat in the corner, head in your hands, trying to keep your thoughts straight.

You weren’t a huge fan of being locked in small rooms, probably because a life of confinement is pretty much all you knew.

There’s a sound of the doors electronic lock being opened, and in comes the man you’d rather not see.

Immediately, you stand with your guard up.

“You going to try and shoot me?” Steve asks.

“You took my guns.” You simply say.

Shanon stands guard as Steve comes closer.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot, but believe me when I say I just want to help.”

You laugh, looking at the floor as he continues to talk.

“Is there anything you can tell us that will help his case? Where was he today? Yesterday?” Steve asks, and you glare.

“You want the play by play? Seriously?” You scoff. “Fine. I woke up at eight o’clock, I went to work and left him in the apartment that your guys ruined-”

“They aren’t my guys.” He clarifies.

“-and my guess is he went into the city. I came home and found you rudely invaded my home.” You say sharply, taking a step away when he comes another foot forward.

“I came to warn you that they were after him. To be fair, I didn’t know you existed.” Steve tries to reason, but you just laugh.

“He must’ve forgot to include it in his letters to you, sorry, he’s been a little busy trying to piece his mind back together.” You spit. “The entire point of laying low, is to not let people know you exist, and we were doing a pretty good job at it.” Your anger rises, and your eyes keep flickering back to the woman at the door and wondering if it’s locked.

You could take her, she’d be easy.

Steve grunts in frustration. “Clearly not well enough that special forces found you.”

You lash out. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been found, but we could’ve had a plan if you didn’t butt in. We could’ve already been on a train in the time it took you to try and reason with him.”

Steve huffs and rubs his temples. “If you would’ve come with me, you wouldn’t have had to run. I could’ve helped you.”

“That’s what you don’t get!” You shout. “We have been fine for two years, we had a life, we had a plan for every situation and we didn’t need you. Now look what you’ve done! He’s getting psychologically evaluated, when everyone knows he’s not going to pass whatever test they have for him.”

Your chest heaves as you try to not let your voice crack.

You’re deathly afraid. All the images of lazy mornings and creative dinners flash before you and there’s that overwhelming thought that you’ll never know that peace again.

“I know you’re scared.” Steve says a little softer now. “But if you cooperate-"

The power goes out.

Just like that.

Emergency lighting flickers on lowly, and there’s a moment of silence before the walkie Shanon wears goes off.

“Everybody, get eyes on Barnes, now!”

Wordlessly, Shanon turns out of the room, causing Steve to follow. Though they shut the door behind them, they fail to realize the lock mechanism isn’t going to work now that everything’s fried.

“Idiots.” You huff, flinging the door open.

You run down the halls until you come across the office where they took any belongings you and Bucky had.

You were going to find him and the two of you were going to find a way to get out of this hell. Grabbing both back packs, you try to go towards the direction everyone is fleeing from, knowing that’s where he’ll be.

Maybe that’s the same agenda Bucky has, or more like the agenda the winter soldier has as he’s triggered to take over. He should have known better, that man claiming to be good knew all the right words to get his brain to switch over into some kind of kill mode. He fights his way past everyone who tries to stop him, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss, like he’s supposed to be searching and finding someone. You. That’s it, that’s what he needs to do next.

He stops anyone who comes after him, on a mission to retrieve you.

You burst out of a door, looking around for any signs of him.

There’s many bruised people on the ground, trying to get up and recover.

He had to be close.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears, backing up, you go to turn and run, but his large figure stops you.

“Bucky.” You gasp in relief, immediately handing him his pack. “We have to go, I think we can-”

He grips your wrist, not tight enough to harm, but tighter than he would ever grab you.

You meet his dark eyes and your face pales.

No.

This can’t be happening.

“James.” You speak, though he doesn’t answer, just stares right back at you.

The word is hot on your tongue and it tastes like anguish as you say it. “солдат?”

Soldat.

That, he answers to. With a tug of your arm, he tells you to follow, giving you no time to process anything. Though Bucky has told you many times that he isn’t to be trusted like this, you can’t help but feel like he isn’t going to harm you, not when he’s shoving anyone out of the way and guides you to the roof top helicopter pad.

He sits you in the passenger seat of the air craft.

“пребывание.” He orders, then goes to the other side and somehow manages to get the helicopter roaring up.

You watch Steve rush onto the pad just as the two of you pull away, he runs after you, trying and failing to stop you.

You look down as you get higher and higher, and no time is wasted, you’re being flown far far away.

He doesn’t utter one word, and you aren’t sure if you should either. Trusting him is all you can do.

About an hour later, when you’re far enough away from city limits, the helicopter is being landed in a clearing.

Even as you’re being pulled out of your seat and he grabs his backpack, he doesn’t talk. Walking fast to keep up with him, you follow him for a mile until you stumble upon a bus stop.

He sits you down, then tells you to stay.

He stands and sweeps over the surroundings.

“Soldat.” You say, clenching your hands at the odd place you are put in.

You didn’t think you’d have to experience this version of Bucky again.

Now you have to figure out how to make it go away.

He turns to look at you, blankly.

With a calming breath, you command him to sit. When he does, you try to ignore the ill feeling it gives you, a cruel remembrance of how perfectly trained they had him.

“You have to go away.” You say and it confuses him.

“I will stay with you.” He says.

“You don’t need to.” You reassure.

His brows furrow. “You are my mission.”

“Your mission is complete, well done.” You encourage, grabbing his hand in yours.

He looks at the contact like it’s so foreign, and your heart aches.

“Do you understand? Your mission is complete, your service is no longer needed.” You say, searching his eyes for the light that slowly returns as this soldier sinks back into hiding.

He takes a large breath and shudders.

Then his eyes are frantic and a little confused.

“James.” You speak, reaching to hold his face in your palms. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“What- what happened? Did I- what?” He frantically says, trying to process everything.

“You didn’t do anything extreme.”

He tries to manage his breathing, then examines you fully, making sure there are no cuts or bruises on your skin.

“Hey.” You coo softly, hand on his cheek. “I’m alright, you didn’t hurt me.”

There’s a sense of relief in his eyes, that’s when he pushes his forehead to yours in a painfully human embrace. You push his hair behind his ears, breathing in when he breathes out.

“I’m sorry.” You say, meaning it. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

He tucks his hand under your hair, bracing on the base of your skull.

“This isn’t on you…we just have really bad luck.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose against his. “I guess we really aren’t done with being on the run.”

The two of you sit just like this until the bus pulls up beside you. Then you find a seat in the back and lean against the window while Bucky leans against you and keeps a watchful eye of the bus.

“What about the Netherlands?” You offer into the silence, twisting your fingers into his.

“You’re wanted all over the country.” He reminds.

Sometimes the world just wasn’t big enough when your face is on ‘be on the lookout’ posters.

“Norway?” He suggests.

“You really want to go back there?” You raise a brow at him.

“…Scotland?”

You think for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, Scotland will do.”

[mraprilfools]

Summary: As Vox's personal Physician it's always been a challenge to get him to take care of himself. Your motives originally may have been professional, but the line started to blend somewhere along the way. Now you're determined to get him to listen.

Pairing: GN!Reader x Vox

Contents: Mostly self-indulgent fluff. Bashful Vox, Doctor Reader, Assertive Reader, Reader has Glasses, Kissing, Lots of Flirting and Banter, Vox is a dork, Vox has freckles he hides

Word Count: 8k

A/N: Dedicated to @6esiree for her Follower contest! Please accept my humble Vox fluff. As for my followers, keep an eye out for tomorrow's Imagine for a very special message from The Heart of a Machine's Vox!

“You need to cut down on your caffeine consumption. Not only are you hopelessly addicted, but your quality of sleep is suffering as a result.” The tests had been taken again, and again, and again at your boss’ request. As a professional, you had standards. You weren’t going to let something as stubborn masculine machismo bother you. But the results on your medical chart had been almost completely static. The metallic nub of your pen rapped against the clipboard over the offending results that kept staring you back in the face.

Vox was hunched over on the examination table, refusing to face you. Already slipping on the buttons of his dress shirt.

“I didn’t say that the examination was over sir.” You reminded him, pressing up the glasses hanging on the bridge of your nose.

The artificial glow of that screen finally turned to greet you. The artificial smile he had was so kind to constantly parade in your presence, as obnoxious as always. “I am well aware, but I am saying it’s over. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

A challenge to your ability. A bold one too. There were few doctors knowledgeable enough in both machinery and biology. Fewer fanatical enough to learn the harmonious weaving inside your employer so you found the accusation funny. All but a single, “Ha” came out in a scoff.

Sparks of electricity crackled from Vox’s antennae, and the large crimson pools narrowed into squints. “And what’s so funny Doc?”

“You are Darling. If you wanted to get rid of me, we both know you would have long ago.” You curled your lips in a smirk, a clear defiance of your boss. With only half of his buttons slipped through, he gave up on the rest and rose to his feet. Long legs made quick strides over to you to make a direct challenge. Even when he stood nearly a foot over you, you didn’t feel intimidated in the least. You dropped the clipboard over to the counter, meeting his gaze defiantly, but cooly.

A foot stepped between your legs, and his body came close. You took a step back only for the sake of your balance, then another until he had your back against a wall. His hands pinned you in place while the eerie glow of his screen only grew more intense. There was a false cheer in Vox’s voice even as his smile never dropped.

“You’re cute, Doc. You’ve made yourself valuable, so you’re right. I give you a lot more slack than I would tolerate from anyone else in this worthless shit heap. However…” He pried one hand free to clap around your jaw. Holding you in place when the bladed end of his thumb pressed against your cheek, drawing a bead of blood from the pinpoint. A directed threat, no doubt to remind you that he could kill you at any time.

But he hasn’t.

“More people are falling to hell every day, you won’t be so unique forever.”

“So you admit that I’m one of the few who do know what they’re doing. So, can I count on you cutting down your coffee consumption down to three cups a day?”

His chest rose and fell as the energy left him. Vox pulled his hand away and returned to fixing up the buttons on his shirt. Turning his back to you to fetch the sweater vest thrown over the table, slipping it on next. A zipper on the side turned out to be the secret around putting on clothes when your head was a large television. Having a tailor right in the tower must be quite useful. “I can do the coffee. However, I don’t have time to sleep the full six hours you are recommending.”

“Daily.” You remind him.

He spun back around, uttering a scoff as his hands slipped through each sleeve of his blazer. The pointed cyan claws slid across the lapels. “Daily?! Now you’re just being ridiculous Doc.”

“Have I been known to tell you jokes, Vox?” You lifted a brow.

“Yes, actually. You make jokes about how stupid half of my employees are all the time. The other half you have creative insults about how brutish, boring, or pathetic they are. I’m starting to think you don’t like anyone in the tower...” Vox raised both his brows, sporting that smarmy little grin.

“Because I don’t, save a few exceptions.” You answered. “I’m not paid to like people. I’m paid to keep you healthy.” You pushed off the wall, seating yourself in the single office chair that had been afforded for the office. The leather squeaked with the new weight, wheels shifting from the sudden weight that had you barreling toward your coffee cup. You draped one leg over the other, pressing your back against the chair while you gave your boss your undivided attention.

The cyan eyes rolled within the crimson pools. At last, his bow tie was tied around his neck perfecting the image of the business CEO. Almost a shame how quick he always was to put his clothes back on. The technological and biological nature of his body was a near obsession of yours; even if you never admitted it.

“Is the friendship-making package extra?”

You raised your shoulders in answer. You hooked your fingers around the mug on the desk with your cup of coffee. The irony of it after telling him to cut his consumption didn’t bother you. “Do you want me to make friends Vox? I don’t see how that would benefit you at all.”

“It won’t.” He admitted as he walked by. The chair was sent backward as his claws laid hands on it, forcing you to make eye contact when he lingered from behind. “Only wondering how much I pay you goes into pretending to like me.”

You couldn’t help but break out into more laughter. The sight of which earned a sultry frown and a retraction of the hand that had come so close to him. You caught your glasses, preventing them from careening off your face. “You don’t pay me anything for that sir, you’re one of the few people in hell I do like.”

“You have a weird way of showing it… telling me to take care of myself.” He chuffed, shooting a nasty glare at the coffee in your hands. Unaffected, you took a sip. He could cope.

“I know, I’m a trailblazer. Do you need me to prescribe you sleeping pills or do you think you can handle it?”

Vox laughed, “Doctor, please! I can do something as simple as fall asleep! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” Even if you couldn’t see it, you could almost feel that eye roll looking at the back of his head. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you with that curt goodbye.

Vox, however, never listened to his doctor. Even IF you were always right. It was a hunch as you were finishing up writing up samples for the night. But the thought came to mind to check on your boss to see if he was heeding your well-intentioned advice. Your employee keycard gave you generous access, only beneath the Vee’s who could go everywhere. So it wasn’t any trouble stopping by that ridiculous office of his.

He was seated before a mural of monitors depicting snapshots of the lives all across Pentagram City. Wires were currently plugged into the back of Vox’s head, absorbed in his… information-gathering activities. Vox was completely unaware of your presence. You breathed a heavy sigh, resigning to the fact that you once again had to get this man to take care of himself. You passed through the bridge without fear, where the circling shark tanks beneath spoke of a deadly fall several floors down. Such a waste of space for an aesthetic. Your polished shoes smacked into the back of the chair, startling the Overlord within.

Arcs of electricity shot out from all angles. Coating the chair and his body as the wires all unplugged from their ports one by one and the frantic man spun around with an intense swirl in his right eye. The claws extended, drawing gouges in the rests beside him. All the fight in him sputtered out the instant he caught sight of you, painted over with annoyance.

“Doc! I did not call for you. What are you doing here?”

With your arms folded across your chest, you answered. “Coming to catch you red-handed. You should be sleeping.”

“Shouldn’t you?” He fired back, hunching low.

Touche, but you wouldn’t admit it. You pushed up the frame of your glasses before you answered.

“It’s not my fault the help I have in the lab is so incompetent. I can’t trust them to do something as simple as label specimens. It would be a terrible safety risk if I left it to them. If anything, I am a hero of Voxtek.”

Vox laughed, leaning back into his chair. It was genuine laughter, unlike that dorky evil cackle he thought nobody ever heard when he was alone. A palm smacked his thigh, with a crooked grin sliding heavy to the right of his screen. “Sounds like we’re both guilty, Doctor. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Tell who exactly?” You asked, striding up to the man. You sat on one of his thighs spread so wide it was practically an invitation. The overlord stiffened, digging his claws back into the plastic armrest, staring a hole at you. “What darling? There aren’t any other chairs and you wouldn’t have me stand the whole time would you?”

“No, I just didn’t expect you to try and seduce me.” He answered.

“Ah? And why do you think I am trying to seduce you?” You sent the question back to him, easing until your back pressed against the rest. You threw one leg over the other, balancing yourself by clutching the armrest. Your fingers only brushed against the cyan claws and he instantly yanked them out of reach.

“Oh, do you sit in any man’s lap then? And here I thought I was special.”

“I don’t like most people, Vox. You are special.”

Unexpectedly, the words brought a strange light blue glow to Vox’s face. He was just as shocked as you were, throwing an arm to cover the strange color in his face. There was an attempt to hide it as his face turned away, but he didn’t throw you off so you took that as a victory.

“What do you want?”

“For you to go to bed darling, that should be obvious.”

When he lowered the arm, you could see a deep frown on his display. The technicolor eyes bore into yours, locking you in eye contact trying to force the truth from you. A common tactic as most couldn’t lie while maintaining eye contact. But you were telling the truth so you made yourself comfortable admiring the view until the silence made him give up. With a sigh, he put his hand on your back and forced you back to your feet.

“Alright, I’ll go to bed, Doctor.” Vox shoved you off, forcing you back to your feet. He refused to even touch you, only lurching forward until you were forced to either catch yourself or fall. With a low grumble, you fixed your coat, keeping well away from the ledge.

Vox took two steps toward the bridge when he stopped and turned to look at you. “Do you flirt with all your patients?”

“Well darling, considering that you are my only patient? Yes.”

Vox chuffed, hooking a thumb forcefully into his pocket. The back of the TV greeted you, shoulders rolling as he weighed your answer. “And before I hired you, how many of your patients did you hit on?”

A single digit tapped your chin, which meant thinking back to something that hardly mattered. How often you satisfy your urges shouldn’t matter to your boss. But for the sake of this flirting to keep going you obliged. “Only the hot ones darling. I jump the bones of the ones I want nothing to do with besides their dick. But I take my time with the ones I really like.”

More electricity danced from his antennae. To busy his hands, Vox tugged and pulled at his bowtie. There was a joyful lilt in his tone as he answered, “Interesting. Good night Doctor.”

“Good night, Vox.” You followed right behind him, smiling with satisfaction. You felt happy that you finally got him to see reason, even if it meant flirting a little.

Or so you thought.

The next day, you decided to make another visit to his office to check if he went to bed on time. He was still plugged into the system, in the early hours of the morning. A little more flirting and back and forth was just as effective.

And the next day. There he was far more cold, not passing the buck back to you. But when you tried to excuse yourself, he’d find some excuse to make you stay for a minute or two longer.

And the next day too! Each time conning you into spending a little extra time with him. At first, it was only fifteen minutes. Then half an hour, and then you ended up lingering for a WHOLE hour. That was when you realized that if this got any worse, YOUR work would suffer.

Now that? That was unforgivable.

At this point, you suspected he was doing this on purpose. When you came charging down the bridge that evening, he was already spinning in place to greet you. You were expected. The bastard. The plugs in the back of his head popped free. Vox spun around in time to greet you with a wide smirk on his screen that faltered when his chair ended up swerving a little too far to the right. A heel smacked against the floor, giving him friction to push him back.

“You saw nothing,” Vox said.

“Pretty sure I did, you are up late. Again.”

“I slept yesterday. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” Vox bent forward in his chair, looking smug. He was intentionally trying to rile you up now. You didn’t even attempt to hide your sigh. You glanced over to the monitors, still the same old surveillance for the most part. But there was one screen that stood out. The man was on Veddit. You adjusted your glasses to get a better look. Upon closer look, it was some subveddit asking advice about how to tell when somebody has a crush on you.

He was so pathetic it was endearing sometimes. His eyes followed yours, doing a double take when he noticed what you were looking at and smacked the console turning all the monitors off. Vox’s voice came out filtered as he attempted to sound assertive. “That’s classified company information. Nothing you are meant to be privy to Doctor. I’ll have to fire you if you keep looking.”

“I didn’t know relationship advice was sensitive company data. Are you having trouble with men, Vox?”

A faint blue light covered Vox’s screen beneath his eyes, his cyan pupils unable to meet you. Teeth clenched, his fingers rapped loudly against the armrests of his chair. You kept silent, watching him stew under the uncomfortable silence. His knee began to bounce, his fingertips clacking against the hard plastic until at last he groaned and rolled his eyes. “No! I could have anyone I wanted in Pentagram City in my bed by the end of tomorrow night if I wanted.”

Laughter spilled before you could help it. The sound inspired a swirl from his right eye, and another tense clutch of his claws gouging his chair. “What’s so funny?”

“You darling. You’re adorable.”

The color on his face grew more intense, as did his frown. He made some incoherent mumbling you couldn’t quite understand, but you were pretty sure at least one of those was an insult.

“How about a bet then, Darling? Whoever can bring a new partner into their bed first wins? If I win, you promise to go to bed no later than 1 AM. And if you win…” You sucked through your teeth, watching as his screen grew even more pale. A cyan claw nervously wove around the bow tie on his neck.

“If I win, you’re all mine for an evening,” Vox interjected.

Now there was a surprise, so he could take the lead. The man was already pushing himself up to his feet, stretching his back as he rose to his full height. “It’s about time I remind you who you work for.” Now he was compensating, with that blustering smile and the way he pulled on his lapels.

“Then it is settled! You can have an entire evening to see if you can make me as obedient as the rest of your employees.” You agreed. Unknown to Vox, you already had a plan that secured your victory. But you let him stew in the joy of his deal a little longer. The way his smile took up half his screen was endearing.

A pointed end met your chin as he forced you to look at him, the harsh artificial light shining a little too close for comfort. “I’ll make you sing for me, Doc. Though you are right… I’d almost miss your backbone. Almost.”

The screen was coming in close, dangerously so. With nowhere to go with that claw currently suck in your chin, you brushed away the mood with a question. “Would my magnanimous boss be willing to walk me home? Things have been rather dangerous in my neighborhood lately.”

Suspicion immediately colored his expression, with arcs of lightning dancing along his frame. Vox whipped his hand away, standing ramrod straight. “Didn’t you want me to go to bed? Trying to get a head start on me Doc?”

You coyly tilted your head. “No? If you’re that worried about that I can get somebody else to walk me. I’m pretty sure I could easily get Papermint to--”

A metallic claw smacked your shoulder, pointed ends digging into your flesh as a strained smile greeted you. Vox’s laughter came out deeply filtered. “That won’t be necessary! That man couldn’t defend you from a paper bag. I’ll be winning our little wager before the night ends, as I said. So I’ll gladly see you home and asleep while I take my victory.”

The pinprick stung, but it was a kind of pain that sent a shiver down your spine. Your hand laid over his, feeling the cool skin beneath for only a second before he yanked it away.

That was now the second time he yanked his hand from yours. Curious.

“Not if you are sleep-deprived, Vox. Come on then, it’s a bit of a walk through a bad neighborhood so I hope you aren’t too fond of your shoes.” You spun around first, taking the lead down the bridge. The larger overlord quickly strode over to catch up to you, refusing to let you guide him. Hands behind his back, he continued to stare at you from the corner of his screen, and he was terribly obvious.

“What is it darling?” You asked.

“...Can you stop calling me that?”

“What, darling?”

There was an uneasy shifting as he pushed out his pockets. The electronic door hissed open when the two of you approached by the proximity of the Overlord alone. The two of you took a turn down the hallways, empty and feeling almost haunted at these early hours.

“Yes.”

By how short the answer was, you suspected he wasn’t going to give you a reason why. As confident and blustering the man could be, there were always these little nuggets of insecurity that oozed. He was overcompensating. For most people, they wouldn’t bother to look any deeper. People were far more inclined to see what they wanted to see or to ignore anything that would be far too bothersome to address. A fact Vox relied on far too much.

Because you took an undeniable interest in this man. You knew his body better than anyone as his doctor. Knew how his heart was nothing but to ease his body dysmorphia. How he regulated his heat, how viruses affected his body, and how a simple cold could still lay him low. Initially, you wanted nothing more than to tear him open and learn everything but lately… you wanted to solve the riddle behind the little things. Such as why he wouldn’t let you touch his hand. Or why his screen always got a little brighter when you entered the room.

But if you pushed somebody too hard who didn’t want to be known, you risked pushing them away. This would require a delicate touch.

“Very well, I will have to call you something special then.”

There was another flash of static as Vox pushed the call elevator button. The repeated shifting of his cyan irises was so obvious you had to hide your smile underneath your palm pretending to hide a cough.

“Like what? Voxxy?”

“Voxxy is cute...” You admitted with a shrug, “But that’s not special. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of exes call you that.”

Fragmentation flashed over this screen at that moment, the crimson pools almost comically large in his screen. The ding of the elevator was his saving grace, striding in quickly to save face. “I’ll let you know if you pick something unique then.”

Unique. Most people would likely pick something with his name or his head. Picture Box, Plasma, Sparky. In the silence of the elevator, you leaned against the wall and considered it. A nickname for you alone to call him. Vox joined you. Leaning against the wall almost close enough to touch but you knew better than to reach out and chance him pulling his hand away a third time.

“Dove.”You suggested.

“That’s… uh--” Vox let out a breathy chuckle. “Quite an old-fashioned nickname don’t you think? I think people stopped using that decades ago.”

“Do you dislike it…?”

Claws settled on the rail behind him, clicking against the bare metal. Each metallic noise sent shivers up your spine, seeing them so close but out of reach.

“I don’t dislike it, no. I’m not quite so nostalgic as half of Hell seems to be, but I can appreciate the effort.” The rare gentle smile on his screen was a sort you’d never seen before. Not the fabricated nonsense to disarm viewers or the manic joy when he was doing something comically evil.

Ping

The elevator came to a sudden halt as it hit the first floor. You stepped out first, with your boss lagging shortly behind. Thanks to how early in the morning it was, the two of you weren’t especially bothered by employees or gawking pedestrians. Hell in the early evenings was often when you could find the worst of it. Drunkards, people stabbed in the middle of the streets, demons locked in heat fucking in any half-discreet location they could find. It was a place of sin and debauchery and everyone happily indulged. Vox was a wary individual you learned from watching him.

Despite being one of the most powerful men in the Pride Ring he constantly watched the streets looking for threats. Occasionally he would catch you looking at him, blush, and look away. After the third or fourth time, he scoffed and tugged on his collar.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that? Actually- WHY are you flirting with me so blatantly? Are you trying to get a promotion?”

“Can I be promoted from your personal physician?”

“No.”

“Then the only reason is because I like you.”

There was a question of why, obvious by the way he looked at you full of confusion. “I… wasn’t expecting such an honest answer.”

You laughed. “This is hell Dove, there’s nothing to be gained by being shy. Somebody else might try to sink their claws into you first and I don’t like to lose.”

“Your wager seems counter-intuitive to your goal.” Vox rolled his eyes. Yet at the same time, he was reaching out to you. His claws bumped against your fingertips for only a fraction of a second. They were cold and sharp to the touch, but having conquered the wall put a pep in your step.

“On the contrary, I believe it’s proven quite effective. You are taking me home so another man doesn’t.”

“I-Wait, were you manipulating me?!”

You laughed again, hiding your great smile behind your hand. “I was! But you manipulate all of hell daily so I think you’ve lost all right to hold that against me.”

Vox stopped, narrowing his great big eyes. “I could leave right now, or did you account for that in your plan too?”

“Mmn, no I had planned to drag you into my bed tonight.”

A bright blue blush flashed over the man’s screen, his arm rising to try and hide it. Sparks and electricity danced between each prong. “I--! That’s not what we bet on!”

“No? The bed was to drag a new partner into our beds tonight. I’ve never been with you, so you count Dove.”

Still masking his face, Vox was now wavering, looking behind him as he tried to determine whether to foil your plot now or fall prey to it. Even this game of indecision was fun to watch. He sucked through his teeth, tapping his foot against the concrete.

“Doesn’t telling me your plan ruin your chances?”

“No, to my experience telling a man point blank you want them is far more effective than being shy about it. Am I wrong?” You flashed a smile full of teeth. “Of course, it also has a chance to backfire and make them so nervous they run. But I don’t believe you aren’t quite that timid.”

“Tch, hardly. Fine.” His claw clamped around your wrist. Cold, awkward, and grating against your bone it wasn’t quite what you imagined. You had a strong suspicion it was that exact reason that made him so hesitant to touch you before. He dragged you forward, but after you reached the end of the street he realized that he had no idea where he was taking you. When he looked at you for help, you laughed. As predicted, he sulked.

“Sorry, sorry! You are just so cute! We’re almost there. It’s that apartment over there.” You pointed straight ahead to a sleek modern apartment. It was one of the nicer buildings in the Entertainment district, one of Voxtek’s provided housing. The familiar V on the building clued Vox in.

The walk became closer to a power walk as he took you into your apartment. Having to at least concede to let you lead to take him to your apartment on the third floor, fourth door down the hall. He was deathly silent watching you unlock the door, following behind you as quietly as a mouse inside. That same nervous jitters returned to the usually powerful and confident CEO as he found himself in a strange apartment that wasn’t his own. Perhaps he expected you to jump his bones immediately but you instead took off your shoes, and lab coat, and made your way inside.

“Would you like tea, Dove? Sleepy-time tea ought to help you fall asleep.”

“Fall… asleep?” Vox asked. All the wind in his sails had fluttered out, baffled by the turn of events.

“Yes darling, what did you think I was taking you to my bed for? You are up past your bedtime.” You didn’t even attempt to hide the smug smile on your face, so instead you focused on filling a kettle and setting it on the stove.

“I--- You tricked me!”

“Indeed I did. Are you upset?”

To your surprise, he wasn't. He was deathly silent, standing in the hallway lost, unsure of what was going on. A claw hooked around his bow tie, untying it to make himself comfortable. Next came off the blazer, and then the top hat left on the coat rack by the door. Normally meant only to contain your coat, it added a touch of domesticity to see your coat have a partner. The blue and white looked nice. Could only hope the two of you would meld just as harmoniously. Vox sat down at your dining room table, taking a look around your abode.

“I’ve never been dragged into somebody's place to only sleep with them before. You’re… an odd one Doc.”

“I’ve been told.” You answered in a sing-song tone, preparing the tea cups. A packet of sleepy-time tea tucked into each porcelain cup with saucers meant to carry a touch of your personality. “I like you too much to bed you this early.”

“I-- don’t get that. If you like me, doesn’t that mean I’d already be inside you, fucking you on your kitchen counter?” Vox scoffed, rapping his nails against the table. The kettle hissed with steam when the water was ready. After laying down the teacups and saucers you popped the kettle off the stove and poured into each cup. Joining your boss from the chair directly across from him.

“Come now, isn’t that how courtship used to work? A man would get to know a woman, and show her that he really liked her for her and not just her body. It’s like that Dove. Now, I would love to unwrap you but I’m more curious to know the man you are. Like-- why don’t you like it when I touch your hand?”

Vox twitched, pulling his hand immediately off the table, suddenly self-conscious. “Who said I don’t like you touching my hand sweetheart?” He forced that fake smile of his, taking a friendly artificial tone.

“Because you keep pulling it away whenever I touch it.”

The smile fell, and his eyes fell toward the amber liquid in the cup. He lifted the cup, testing to see if it had enough time to steep. It had not even been a minute, so all he tasted was hot water. He set the cup down, feeling bitter. “What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

“Then you don’t have to. But I want to know.”

The chair skid back, with your boss leaning forward. “Let’s… forget this getting-to-know-me bullshit Sweetheart. It’s stupid, this is hell. I can fuck you until your eyes roll into the back of your head and forget this whimsy of yours Doc. You're my employee. Nothing more.”

You set your chin on the nest of your overlaid hands, matching his eyes. You pushed a little too hard. “No, you’re getting your sleep whether you like it or not. If we have to sit here in silence, I’m making sure you get the sleep you need, Vox.”

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Vox’s shoulders rose and fell with his sigh. Waiting three minutes for tea to steep felt like an eternity to him. “A secret for a secret Doc. I’ll tell you why, but in return, you need to tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.” An accusatory finger jut your way.

“Do you want to get to know me too, Dove?” Unafraid, you coyly tilted your head. Vox opened his mouth to respond, shut it, and turned his screen.

“...Yes. I’ve never had somebody care this much for my health or try to get to know me. You’re weird, but not in a… bad way I guess. I’m not saying-- you’ll ever be more to me than an employee-- don’t get the wrong idea.” He quickly interjected his point. But the shuffling in his chair and the way he weighed his words so heavily you were liking your chances. “But I like talking to you Doc.”

“Well...” You began, skidding your foot against the floor. “I was once madly and deeply in love with a man before. I was utterly, completely besotted in a way I bet you never would have expected. I wrote and sang him poetry. Spent many evenings dancing with him by candlelight, and had disgustingly kinky sex in public spaces. But my favorites were always the nights when he’d be gentle with me like I was the most precious thing in all worlds.”

Vox’s mouth hung open and then shut. A fresh shade of color danced across his screen at the bold confession “You’re… right. I have a hard time believing that. You’re the last person I imagined being a romantic.”

You sputtered a laugh. “Right? I was surprised too. Have you ever been in love like that before?”

“I’m not answering that question.” He immediately shut you down. “I don’t like you touching my hands because… most people are scared of them. They hurt, they’re cold, they aren’t nice to hold at all. They’re great, don’t get me wrong! When I need to get people in line they’re a fantastic tool for intimidation. But well, we’re demons. I’m not… built for intimacy. Inside or out.” Voxmotioned over his body with the aforementioned hands.

“They’re beautiful hands though, Vox. When you grabbed my wrist it hurt a little but it wasn’t a bad pain. They’re more than worth it for you.”

The familiar blush returned, coming with such a vengeance you swore you saw some white pixels mixed in within the blush. Like a nebula reflected on his screen, little imperfections that made him look endlessly beautiful. “Noted. So, what happened to that guy? You wouldn’t be bothering with me if he was still in your life.”

“We were… incompatible. There’s a piece of me that’s broken beyond repair inside that made me fundamentally wrong for him. It wasn’t his fault or mine. Closer to mine I suppose, since I cannot quiet the demon inside me that threatens to tear my guts out raw from envy.” The memory came bitterly, mostly because it came with a realization that even for the man you loved most you couldn’t be fixed.

A cyan claw hooked through the handle, with Vox sipping his tea. He had grown deathly silent, draining the cup until it was down to its dregs all in one. It hit the saucer with a clatter. “You should drink your tea doctor.”

Silently you obliged, taking more reserved sips. Truthfully you didn’t need it as much as he did. Habit and a circadian rhythm did wonders in getting your body trained for sleep. But for the sake of calming your nerves, taking this man to your bed where you would not take his clothes off felt oddly more intimate than taking them off. The heel of his shoes clicked multiple times against the floor, Vox was completely incapable of sitting still. At one point he even got up, walking around your apartment.

“Doc? Where’s your bathroom?”

“Back near the entrance Dove. To your right.”

“Thank you.” He disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You could hear the faucet running shortly after. While he took care of his business you finished your tea and washed the dishes. He was already out by the time you put the kettle in the sink.

“So, do you have anything for me to sleep in?”

“Mmm, I have a shirt of my exes if that works that should fit you. But I don’t have any bottoms. You’ll be fine in your underwear won’t you?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I’m fine to sleep naked. As long as that shirt doesn’t have you know whose face on it.”

“Of course not Dove, I would not tolerate merchandise of anyone who believes technology should have stopped in the thirties. That goes against everything I believe in.” You flippantly waved your hand as if you could hardly entertain the idea. To your surprise, Vox’s screen illuminated with light, with a big genuine toothy smile on his face.

“I changed my mind, I might be able to make an exception for you.”

“Of course Vox, it was only a matter of time before you saw my charm! Now… come on.”

Even if you were a Doctor who didn’t need a man or woman, you loved having a large bed to lounge in taking up nearly your entire room. You had your knick-knacks and other decorative items. A bookshelf of medical textbooks lined against the back of the bed for those late nights reading. Laundry piled up a little higher than you would have liked when you were bringing a boy over. A disturbing little skeleton you named Mr. Bones sitting on your computer desk. Diagrams and telltale signs of countless nights hunched over a desk. Signs of the passion of whatever gripped your mind and forced quill to meet paper.

Vox was obvious in the way he took in the various objects in your bedroom. His interest in getting to know you seemed genuine. You fished out the old shirt from your ex, which was a harmless plain white buccaneer shirt. You could see the confusion on his face when he was handed it, but you said nothing.

You grabbed your pajamas and disappeared into the master bathroom to change. Leaving Vox the whole bedroom to change. When you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror, you could spy a faint color present on your cheeks. Sure, maybe you could act cool and confident. But the truth was, you did like this man. Otherwise, why else would you go to all this trouble for him?

All your feigned confidence but you took care that your hair looked nice when you brushed it. You picked out your favorite pair of pajamas. You brushed your teeth and put on only a little spritz of perfume, as your heart beat with anticipation and hope.

Vox was already laid out on top of the bed, waiting for you. His monitor raised to look at you when you opened the door, propping his body halfway up with his elbows. “Huh, you did simply change into your pajamas. Was half expecting you to change your mind and pick out something sexy.”

“We can save that for after you’ve taken me to dinner, Dove.” A laughter followed after your statement, a friendly one. You stepped over to your nightstand to hit the switch next to a strange black and white orb. Vox did arch a brow, but his gentle smile remained.

“I’ll think about it.” The overlord fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. That was perfect timing!

After you hit the light switch, the room was submerged in darkness. The purpose of the strange device on your nightstand became obvious when Vox spied the star system being projected over the ceiling. Creating a fabrication of the starry night sky that had been robbed from the two of you when death came. Vox’s right claw stretched out, reaching his hand out as if he could grasp the slowly rotating stars. The illumination of his screen slowly died until it became a dim pale blue light.

You crawled into bed opposite of him. Laying on your side with your arm tucked under the pillow to act as extra leverage while you watch the man beside you enjoy the sight above.

“You REALLY are a romantic. I’m expecting roses when you take me to dinner.” Vox joked.

“I’ll consider it. So, what makes you say that?”

“I may have had my hints when you told me you wanted to wait for sex. And oh I don’t know, The night light and nickname? You are aware of what Dove means right?”

Vox rolled onto his side, using the pillow as a gentle cushion for his screen. Normally looking right into a bright blue light wasn’t the best idea when you were trying to sleep. But the sight of that gentle smile on his face felt like it was going to lead you to some nice dreams. “Of course I do. And you were intentionally staying up late so I’d come and see you. I think you’re secretly a romantic too, Vox.”

The familiar blue flush dazzled his screen, something even pulling the blanket over to try and hide it couldn’t help with. The way his face glowed made the proof even more apparent when he only tried to mask it in darkness. “Nonsense. I’m just a machine.”

The statement came out in a half-whisper. By the way, his eyes widened at that moment, you suspected he had not meant to be that honest. A scowl took the place of his smile, and he fell back onto his back to hide his face from you. You didn’t let him run. You pushed yourself up and sat beside him, staring down at the screen that tried its best to watch the wavering astral movements above.

“You’re not a machine, Dove. And I would know that more than anyone, save yourself. Machines aren’t lonely for one.”

“I’m not lonely...” Vox bitterly retorted.

You stretched your hands out for his screen. He leaned back into the pillow, setting his cyan irises on you immediately. With your fingertips only inches apart, you met those eyes without moving an inch more.

“Do you not want me to touch you?”

“What good is touching me there? I can’t even feel it, you know.”

“Because it always makes me happy when somebody simply touches me without expectation of sex. Makes me feel beautiful.”

A complicated expression flashed over the screen. Alternating between vulnerability, a scowl, the widened sclera, and at last acceptance. His hand laid over yours and guided it to brush and trace over the hard plastic that housed his screen. The cool hand lingered on top of your palm, guiding your hand up toward where his prongs stuck out on top of his head. Following his lead your fingertips brushed along the metal prongs, then circled the receivers on the top.

“Maybe… I’m a little lonely.” He begrudgingly confessed.

Something cold suddenly brushed against your cheek, intense thanks to the heat that made a home there. The back of Vox’s claws brushed over your face, and you leaned into it. His palm filled the swell of your cheek, the harsh points nestled into the hair to cushion their prick. The thumb stretched out to tap your bottom lip, tracing the shape.

Slowly the two dark silhouettes you both cast on the wall came together melting into one. Vox guided you forward as his own body bent forward to meet you halfway. Shortly after you closed your eyes, the gentle sensation of his lips finally met yours. The edged fingers slid along the nape of your neck, sending chills down your spine while he held you. Entangling his fingers within your hair to hold you in place. Chaste and sweet, it was only a light brushing as he whispered to you.

“Your right doc… this is nice. I want to touch you more, may I?” Each little new syllable brought that ticklish feeling back, tingling with the natural static on his face. You sealed your lips against him, drinking deep from what he’d been teasing you with all this time.

“As long as the clothes stay on Dove.”

“Of course. This is nice… I don’t want it to end.” The confession came with the feel of his palm now brushing over your shoulder. Tracing down your arm until his fingers circled the wrist that had kept you supported all this time. He tugged you forward until your body fell on top of his. It was harder than the average man’s body and less cushy. The heat of your body was sapped even through the two layers of clothing, but it only gave him an excuse to wrap that blanket around the two of you.

You righted yourself until you laid flat across his body, with his arms coming around to circle your back. You buried your head into his chest, taking in his scent, wrapping your arms around his torso as you surrendered to his touch. The pointed end of one claw ran up and down your back, sending shivers down your body each time it came to meet the nape of your neck. It wasn’t a sexually thrilling sensation, but it was pleasant enough to eke out a moan. Instead of excitement, the man underneath you chuckled. Vox ran his claws through your hair instead, scratching your scalp.

“Why don’t you like to be called Darling?” You dared the question, feeling closer than ever now that the two of you were touching. The sound of his artificial heart beating against his chest and into your ear felt nothing like the machine he purported himself as. Nor was the careful way he touched you. You could feel its absence far more when his hands froze. You dared to look up, and you could see the heartbreak reflected in his eyes alone.

“It reminds me of somebody else, a man I’d rather not think of when I’m with you Doc.”

“I’d never want you to look like that when you think of me… so I will endeavor to be nothing like him, Dove.”

Vox smiled, curling a claw around a lock of your hair to brush out of your face. “And even if you are broken, I will make you feel whole one day Doc.”

Now that was unfair. How dare the vulnerability you share with him be used against you! You fought back the emotions that welled up, the brush of his hands bringing you back down against his chest made you feel like it’d be alright.

“We should get some sleep. But I want to keep holding you if that’s O.K.”

You leaned forward, kissing him goodnight. Vox kept you there for a moment longer, squeezing your shoulder. The other hand pressed against the arch of your back to press your body against his. Each little brush of those lips against yours felt addicting. Making you want to keep diving in back for more. Sometimes it was crooked, other times he’d steal your breath and keep you there. It was only the need for air that forced you two to part. A flushed face stared back at you with the beautiful nebula of freckles returned in full force.

You didn’t want to part, much as the sirens call for sleep called for you. You pressed your fingertips against his screen right beneath his eyes. Tracing each little freckle to make constellations with them. Vox closed his eyes, accepting your touch this time. The gentle wavering of his cyan irises watching you stole your breath. If only you could stay up all night and kiss each little star on his face.

But all good things had to come to an end. Vox pressed against your shoulders to force you to lie down. His own body came hovering over yours for a brief few beautiful moments, the starry sky above him framing behind him.

“You’re blushing so hard right now, Doc.”

A squeak escaped you, pressing a hand against your now hot cheeks. Gentle laughter broke out from the man above.

“You’re so cute… I can’t wait to see how red you get when I bed you for real.” The whisper of that promise came with a claw tracing along your jawline.

“When…? You sound so certain.” The blood rushing to your head made it hard to come up with a snappier comeback than that.

“Because I have already decided. I intend to win you over with everything I have. Goodnight, Doc.”

He fell back back onto the bed, lying on his side. Immediately wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer until your back was held flush against his front. Vox locked you tight so you couldn’t escape, the warm screen pressed into the back of your head.

“Goodnight Vox...”

Cursed with those beautiful thoughts Vox put in your head, your cheeks burned. The bittersweet pain in your heart gave you such contentment you were quickly pulled down past the point of no return. The gentle whir of Vox’s white noise banished the chaos of hell, pulling you into a world where only the two of you existed.

[tomorrowxtogether]

SOOBIN: “I thought I should just try to shine as I am.”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview

2024.11.11

He once strived to become a lush, towering forest. But he realized that people will love him for exactly what he is—a deep, rolling ocean. And so, he decided to remain as whom he always has been: an ocean named SOOBIN.

You took a trip to Vietnam earlier this year with BEOMGYU. I heard you planned the whole thing. SOOBIN: I’m usually the kind of person who just goes around without a real plan, but since we don’t get much vacation time, I figured we’d better go all out and do everything we could in one go, so I tried planning it all out. (laughs) BEOMGYU just wanted to go with the flow, but there was a ton of stuff I wanted to do.

I’m sure it’s not easy taking a trip or spending your off time with the same people you spend all your time with. SOOBIN: I hang out a lot with the rest of the group on my own time too, though. Three of us were all hanging out together just yesterday. To be perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel like anything special since we’re always together 365 days a year, but I’m also most comfortable around them for the same reason.

Sometimes people start bickering with each other when they get too comfortable with one another, but you’re always so kind—like how you gifted BEOMGYU with a nap in that “The Perfect Way to Rest” video when you remembered he was feeling tired. SOOBIN: I think I’m good at picking up on things. I don’t know if I can do it with everyone, but at least with the other members of the group, I’m pretty good at telling how they’re feeling or if they’re not feeling well. As soon as I see one of them, I can tell, Oh, he looks a little rough today, or, He’s sure in a good mood today. (laughs) If they seem down, I go over to them to find out what’s wrong and talk it over.

Your kindness also comes across when you’re with animals, like in the “OUR TOMORROW” video, where you took care of one dog who was so nervous that it didn’t get a chance to eat any treats. Have you always been drawn to people and creatures that are small and left out? SOOBIN: So, so much. In fact, I was really shy and struggled to fit in when I was a trainee. I was really lonely at first. So when time passed and I finally got accustomed to things, if I saw another trainee who was shy and couldn’t adjust, I felt like looking out for them. Kai was among them. (laughs) That’s how I ended up becoming really close with him.

You talked about the cat your sister adopted recently, explaining how it used to be shy because it had a hard life in the past but that it finally opened up this year. SOOBIN: I went to see the cat when my sister first got it, but I couldn’t even see it that first time—it just hid under the couch. It was so shy that I thought I’d never get to pet it, but the last time I saw it, it came right up to me and started purring, wanting to be petted. It was able to overcome its painful past and open up to my family thanks to all the love they show looking after it. Love really does have the power to change anything. (laughs)

You also said on weverse LIVE recently that you made a new friend who you can talk about dramas, movies, and books with. SOOBIN: For me, dramas and movies don’t end with watching them—after you’re done watching, that’s when things are just getting started. I always look up reviews and analyses online. People can watch the same thing and they’ll all have their own thoughts on it, so I’m curious about all those different views, and now I have someone to talk about that with. They know a lot more about books and movies than I do, so I end up learning a lot when we’re sharing our thoughts together. Just having a friend to share my interests with is really fun.

You mentioned talking about Inside Out 2, and you looked at how it features a place to store things you’ve heard that you want to keep for a long time, which got you thinking about what sort of things you would want to hold onto. SOOBIN: I kept recalling things my friends say after we hang out—things like, “SOOBIN, I’m so happy we’re friends,” and, “I feel great whenever I’m with you.” Hearing things like that really touches my heart. Seriously, how often do you get to hear things like that in life? I used to find expressing things like that awkward and weird, but thanks to my friends, I’m getting used to saying I love and appreciate people. You empathized with how Anxiety works harder and feels more anxious than others because they want to be good at things. Are there things you feel you should work harder at than other people? SOOBIN: I’m actually slower at learning choreography compared to the other members. I assumed I’d get a lot better after debuting and regularly performing onstage, but progress was slower than I expected. I didn’t say anything about this before, and I even kept it a secret from the other members, but I actually got separate choreo lessons on the side when we were doing “Chasing That Feeling” and “Deja Vu.” We’d take lessons as a group, and then once I was alone I’d always spend about an hour dancing and working on the little details. I tried so hard with those two most recent songs that I even practiced on my own like that. Seeing as I’m slow, I have to work harder to keep up with the other members. If I have more time, I want to practice more for this comeback, too.

With all the touring you’ve done and the encore performances you have coming up, it must’ve been really hectic getting ready for your Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback. SOOBIN: The schedule was really tight this time around—we even had to record vocals in Japan in the middle of the tour since we were in and out of the country—but now that we’re in our sixth year, the five of us were all really fast about things. I could sense that we had grown compared to before since we were faster at recording than we could’ve expected to be in the past and it took us less time to work out the details of the choreography.

The album’s subtitle, SANCTUARY, is a word that’s appeared in TOMORROW X TOGETHER albums before. What’s been your sanctuary these days? SOOBIN: I never used to have a sanctuary, which made getting through tough times hard, but I do now: simple things like working out or reading. It feels like the things that break me away from overthinking and let me immerse myself in something else are my sanctuary.

You were complimented on your previous promotions for your improved vocals and high notes. What about on this album? SOOBIN: Actually, every other album we’ve done had a song in a genre I wasn’t confident in, but not this time. The single “Over The Moon” is really laid-back, and I felt like it was perfect timing for us to try out a song like that. What’s unfortunate is that I caught this horrendous cold during recording. We started practicing for live performances recently, and the director said, “SOOBIN’s singing better than he did when recording. He makes it sound effortless.” So I couldn’t help but think about how much better I could’ve done if only my throat had been in better shape.

You always focus a lot on lyrics. Were there any on this album that have stuck with you in particular? SOOBIN: This album isn’t so much about telling some big, sweeping story as it is about everything we’ve been through together. Now that we’ve been through all that chaos, it’s about the universal emotion of love, which everyone can relate to, and I liked that about it. There’s a line in “Higher Than Heaven” that sticks with me that goes, “I think I kinda get what forever means now.” I even once said, “I never used to believe in the word ‘forever,’ but I think I can now, thanks to our fans.” I didn’t write that part, but it’s like it was written to perfectly capture my feelings.

The other members have probably had an impact on your belief in the word “forever,” too. SOOBIN: I’m pretty sure we’re going to grow old together and that we’ll be together till the day I die. We do the same thing and basically live the same life day in and day out, so we know what makes each other cry the most during concerts, too. Whether it’s my tears of happiness or BEOMGYU’s tears of disappointment from a leg injury, having friends to understand and share those feelings with is nice. They’re all just really kind people—calm and clear, like a stream. None of us is domineering or splashing around, disturbing the peace, and nobody’s dirtying the water, so I think we’ll be able to stick together for a long, long time.

You said before that you had found being onstage tough while touring. Now that you’ve already wrapped up your third world tour, do you still find that to be the case? SOOBIN: I think I’m getting better over time. I still can’t say that I completely enjoy myself, but the worries I used to have before going onstage have gone away entirely. There used to be times where I found it hard to watch myself onstage because I didn’t like how I looked, but now I see myself up there and I think I look cool. (laughs)

The way you have a different outfit on for every sound check when you’re on tour is definitely cool. SOOBIN: For fans who come even though they’re busy, showing up hours before the concert just to wait, doing it purely out of love, I wanted to be more stylish, so I bought a lot of clothes just for sound checks. The glasses-plus-cardigan combo was something I bought in advance for summer, and the reaction from the audience was amazing! They showed me on the big screen and MOA was screaming their lungs out—like, not the usual “wow,” but, “aah!” Like shock and awe. (laughs) I was worried I went overboard with the look, but they showed they liked it, so I was happy.

There’s no way not to bring up your cover of the Choi Yu Ree song “Forest” when talking about you. You said that the people around you are like tall trees in a forest and that you thought you’re one of them, but that you figured out you’re actually more like the ocean. SOOBIN: It’s easy to find people around me who are better looking and sing and dance better than I do. I actually started thinking about that at Lollapalooza. The other members looked so happy and like they were having so much fun onstage, but I couldn’t. I felt eaten up inside seeing myself not being able to fully enjoy it because of all the pressure. Then I heard Choi Yu Ree explaining that “Forest” is about feeling like you’re not good enough and I thought, “Ah, so that’s what I’ve been going through.” I started to understand my emotions a little bit better. Everyone ends up comparing themselves to others at some point in their lives—it’s unavoidable. And they have times where all they can see are the things they hate about themselves, but it’s ridiculous. I was overflowing with negative feelings when I was working on my “Forest” cover, and I wanted to sort of deal with those feelings and express them.

The music video echoes your thoughts that someday you’ll come to shore and become one with the forest. What does the forest mean to you? SOOBIN: Just being a singer who’s good at singing and dancing, interacting with my fans, enjoying performing, and being able to do it all with complete sincerity. I think I was showing how the forest to me means being happy with the other members when they’re happy. Nothing big—just simple things I’m not always that good at.

Do you feel more like a forest now that some time has gone by? SOOBIN: Umm … I saw a ton of comments from fans after I covered “Forest.” My mindset when I was doing it was, Right now I’m like the ocean, but I’ll become a part of the forest just like you guys—so wait for me until then. But once I saw what fans were writing, I changed my mind and thought, Do I really need to become a part of the forest? I could be similar to the forest, but I don’t have to change myself to be one. My fans kept saying, “The whole reason we liked you in the first place is because you’re like the ocean, not because we hoped you’d become like a forest. If that were the case, we’d like somebody else. Why do you think it was you?” The ocean comes with its own perks, you know. You need to have some ocean near a forest to add to the scenery and have more things to do. Now I think maybe I tried too hard to fit in by trying to be like the forest. Now I feel like I can shine bright just by being myself.

That lines up with what you recently said in an interview you did in Japan when you said that your 20s, the best and most energetic time of life, are dazzling and fun thanks to knowing MOA. What do you think you’ll see when you look back on this youthful period of your 20s? SOOBIN: Joy. Every moment of our lives is packed with good times and bad times, joy and sorrow, but in the end, I think, I’m on a path towards joy. Even things that are so agonizing that you want to die—so bad you feel like the whole world is against you, and so bad you’re certain they’re weighing on you forever, eventually pass.

Doesn’t it almost feel funny sometimes, looking back after all that? (laughs) SOOBIN: Yes. It ends up feeling so trivial somehow. Things that felt massive at the time are like a speck in the distance once you get even a little space between them and yourself. Even after all the hardship I went through being a trainee, I can look back now and see there were a lot of good times. Maybe we tend to romanticize the past a bit? (laughs) Even some of the stuff I’m going through now can be tough, to be honest, but I’m never going to give up. There’s still so much I want to give. The amount of joy I derive from doing this is way higher than the amount of difficulty. I think my life’s amazing, even right now.

So amazing. (laughs) SOOBIN: I think so too! (laughs) As time goes on and I get older, when I look back on my youth, my time with TOMORROW X TOGETHER, I wonder if it’ll look that much more shiny and amazing. Maybe I’ll feel I was even cooler at this time than I feel I am now.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

DATING HAN LUE HEADCANONS

pairing: han lue x reader

word count: ~2k

warnings: 18+, no smut perse but mentions of it, language, not much really, this is pretty tame

a/n: hello there! it's been a while since i've written for this lovely man but i recently found this on my notes and figured it's a good time to finish it. this was a request i got a while ago, it was by an anon so anon if you see this, i got you!!

the request only asked for dating headcanons so there's not much plot in here unlike the waitress one.

i feel really bad cause i got my han girlies on my inbox asking for more han content and i've been jumping from fandom to fandom. i just need the last movie to come out to fuel the love i have for han.

enjoy <3

Han is a man who prefers long term relationships. Amongst a life full of chaos he relishes on those relationships he can lean back and find calm and comfort, someone he can rely on.

Doesn’t mean Han's not into hook ups though. Whenever he’s single he’ll have his fair share of one nights stands. At the end of the day he's a man with needs, especially since he loves putting his life on the line.

Han he keeps people in boxes: friends, off limits, hookups, and relationship material. Of course there’s also that box with bright red letters that spell TOXIC. Most people in that box are one night stands that thought they stood a chance after a hookup and became a little unhinged.

Whenever Han finds that person that is relationship material he doesn’t let them go. He’ll pursue them in his cool and nonchalant way. He’ll compliment them so smoothly they won’t notice until much later.

Han will invite you out to do random stuff, wording it as 'errands' and it’s only in the middle of it that you realize it’s a date. Lunch followed by a scenic walk in a park in Tokyo and then dessert? Definitely a date. It’s perfect because it takes those first date jitters out of the way.

You fall in love with him way too quickly and Han knows when you do. It's your own fault because once you realize you're head over heels you become this mumbling, blushing mess.

It was a smooth transition from friends to dating to being in a relationship and it's all because of Han. He's great at reading people and it helped him ease your nerves and figure out how you were feeling with every outing.

With entering a new relationship there's a period of getting to know the other person. Han is an open book, he doesn't see the point of hiding anything with the girl that might be his future. You either accept him as he is now or you don't and that's the end. He has nothing to hide although he tiptoes around his late teens.

When Han tells you of his life as a fugitive you don't believe him. You laugh in his face. Like, “Yeah, sure. You pulled off a heist in Brazil and stole from the richest mafia man with your posey of misfits. Hilarious.” Han shrugs and moves on.

You could've googled it but you don't. You just think Han had a rough upbringing he doesn’t like to talk about. Which is partly true but not the case. It comes to bite you in the ass afterwards.

Moving on, Han is not a fan of pecks on the lips. If it’s not a kiss that lasts more than 5 seconds don’t fucking bother. He’s an all or nothing kinda man, you know?

I mean it’s not like Han will fight you if you do but it's visible how he's left wanting more. You’ve learned your lesson the hard way. You’re in a rush and to say goodbye you quickly peck him on the lips and then Han will pull you back in and plant a good kiss in, successfully making you even more late.

That being said Han adores kisses on the forehead or temple or back of the head. Han will randomly walk up to you while you do chores around the apartment and press a kiss to the back your head with his hands on your hips. Then he’ll walk off like nothing happened, leaving you all ☺️☺️.

Dating Han includes spending nightfall in each others arms. Resting in the increasingly comfortable sofa and raking your fingers through his hair, coaxing him to stay in.

"Do you have to go out, Hannie?" You whisper, scratching on his scalp making him shudder.

"I told them I'd be there." Han's response is muffled as he gets more comfortable, his face pressed against your breasts.

"But do you have to?" You insist as your other hand goes to scratch his back.

"I guess I can stay in and see them tomorrow night," Han sighs as he relaxes even more against you. He's far too comfortable and this cuddling will soon evolve into something much more exciting by the way you're hanging on to him.

For a time there Han pauses his life for you. He stops going to the races and ignores the calls of the Toretto crew to nurture your growing relationship.

By pausing Han completely ignores that other part of his life leading the Toretto gang to come to Tokyo. It’s not like Han meant to ignore them he was just enjoying his time with you so much that he didn’t realize how much time had gone. We’ll get into that later.

Han is not one to argue a lot. If you’re annoyed at him for one reason or another he’ll take it and try to distract you. Whether it’s by calling you a sweet nickname or holding you or kissing you.

But if it’s about something that puts you at risk Han will put his foot down. You went out with your friends late at night and walked home alone? Unacceptable. Do you know how many sickos are out there? That's when real arguments form because you can be so stubborn and independent. You can handle yourself. Han trusts you fully, it's the outside world he doesn't trust.

If you prioritize your job instead of your well being? Nope. Han will have to step in. Hell you don’t have to work if you don’t want to. He has enough money for the two of you. The idea of being taken care of like that is so tempting but you do like having your own life and money.

Sleepy, morning ‘I love you’s.’ That’s when he says those three words the most. You typically wake up before him so you’ll play with his hair and trace your fingertips on his back to softly wake him up.

It's mid morning and you've just woken up. You turn in bed to find Han sleeping on his stomach, his long hair covering his eyes and tickling his cheeks.

You brush the hair away from Han's face, tracing your fingertips over his face to softly wake him. You'd typically let him sleep in more but you had plans for the day and he insisted in driving you around.

He starts to stir and softly groans. Your hands go to his naked back, because he loves when you do that. "Good morning, handsome."

"Morning," he says, opening his eyes and looking at you. His voice deeper and rougher than normal. He clears his throat and pull you to him, kissing your head and muttering an, "I love you."

"I love you, more," you say, kissing his chest before wiggling out of his arms, "Time to get up, you promised me to take me to brunch before going to the grocery store."

Han will absolutely let you drive his precious car. Whenever you want to for as long as you want to. Doesn’t matter if you scratch it or pop a tire. He can fix his car no problem. As long as you're safe he's all in for it.

Will silently get off on you driving fast and changing the gears of the car expertly. At that moment Han is a spectator and you're the show. He understands all the other girls he's either been with or hooked up with and how they got turned on at him driving.

Driving a fast car is sexy.

Han is the kinkiest yet softest lover ever. He will try anything at least once but is not into the harsher parts of BDSM. Spanking and bondage is okay he sees the appeal and he likes it but not the crazy parts of it. Han's favorite position is when you ride him. Not reverse cowgirl though because he likes seeing your face and your chest bouncing. He loves your expressions and hearing the curses that slip from your lips.

Han is a slut for long, messy make out sessions. The one's that start slow and then build up. His tongue in your mouth or his in yours he doesn't have a preference. Your hands in his hair, pulling on it. Wandering hands but not going anywhere. The ones where when he pulls away there's a string of saliva between you two.

I'm sorry but Han is a handsy man. In public he'll hold back so he'll keep a hand on your hips or waist, an arm around your shoulder is more common though. If he's being cheeky he'll grab your ass in public. In private though? Oh, hands always on you. Hand on your ass, hand on your tit, on your thigh, always a hand on you.

Han loves to buy you clothes and lingerie. He takes note on what clothes you like and will buy you a bunch of those but will also buy you clothes he would go crazy seeing you wear. He will demand you model them for him.

Clothes like a little black dress, four or five inch, expensive, high heels, lacy lingerie sets. You will model them but then you'll end up in his bed, clothes still on.

Han is quiet in public but in private, with you? That man loves to yap, especially when you get him to talk about things he's extremely passionate about. It's hard to get him to shut up.

Han won't succumb to his friends teasing him about the fact that his whipped, or a simp, oor any nonsense like that. He has you and he loves you. There's nothing to be ashamed of.

The day Domenic Toretto knocks on your shared home is the day you're thrown for a spin.

Han is right behind you greeting one of his closest friends. He introduces you two happily, urging Dom to come in and take a seat.

You stay right besides Han in the couch across from the big man. You've heard a lot about Dom and it's all been great things. You're just shocked at the surprise visit.

They make small talk until Dom says, "We need your help, Han."

"Anything, Dom."

When Dom leaves you're too quiet. Han approaches you, giving you a look, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? This man just came here to ask for your help in a secret mission to take down this dangerous mercenary. How do you think I feel?" You exclaim overwhelmed at what was discussed.

"You sound very surprised. I told you about Brazil and my past," Han cocks his head curiously.

"I didn't think it was real, Hannie!" You yell, "I thought you had a rough upbringing and this was your way to joke and cover it up."

"I'm sorry," Han apologizes, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Are you really doing this?" You ask, scared of what might happen now.

"I have to. They need my help," Han responds, cupping your face in his hands. There are tears in your eyes, afraid of the new reality. Gone are the days of ignorant bliss.

"What about me?" The question was heavy and loaded. You only asked one question but there were hundreds in disguise.

"I'll be back in no time. You will stay here and stay safe, alright?"

Han left early the next morning. He woke you up with a hand on your cheek and another in your back. Han gave you a long, sweet kiss and whispered 'I love you.'

You were left at home with all this new information, your computer to google Brazil, and time.

ta-daaaa. i hope you guys enjoyed this. i know it's not a lot but i feel like i would be repeating myself since dating han headcanons is very much like the waitress headcanons, except without a plot.

i'm trying to get back into writing for han it's just a little hard since i feel like all my fictional crushes are pulling me apart, begging for my attention. my love for han is always there it's just not string enough to make me sit and write a lot. it's why i need this movie to come out asap.

you guys have been so patient so thank you for that. in any case i hope you like or enjoy some of my other work while i try and bring back han <3

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Mafia AU!

Chapter 2: Jobless? More like Job-bless

A/N: Link to prev ch + mini epilogue of the chap (where it goes to another character’s pov aside from the reader :DD) :

Preface:

After the mess of a morning, you instantly got roped into the orderly chaos of the bakery. Under a contract (a list of chores really) you are now tied to the place Nonna and Nonno calls home.

Although, you soon come to learn that it is the home of other certain individuals as well.

With a groan, you wonder how many things are left on the chore list posted on the to-do board, pinned with all sorts of menus, post-it notes, old recipes, and photos of people you don’t really care to know or recognize; although, you were curious of who that one handsome man was.

Which you kept at the back of your mind to ask Nonna during your break later.

For now, you had to focus up and sort this damn mountain of trash.

You even got scolded by the trash guy for having mixed the recyclables and non-recyclables! You pouted, mumbling that it wasn’t your fault but the old couple who ran this place— yet all he did was wave you off, saying that he’d make an exception and come by tomorrow, ‘as long as the trash is sorted.’

To be honest, you’d rather sort him to the non-recyclables pile.

Rancid- the whole lot of it was! You couldn’t believe it got stocked up until the second floor of the building… but you kinda have to wonder if they threw it from below with an underhand throw or dropped from the room you were currently in.

The latter seems more plausible.

Until you saw Nonna, spin and accurately place another bag on top- winking at your gaping form, knees bent with your elbows resting on it exhaustion.

“Is that nasty sickness gone?” She asks, arms folded on her chest as she leans by the doorway.

“I think I got another type of nasty sickness,” you raised your arms and showed the dirty yellow rubber gloves and apron covered in grime.

She laughs and nods, “well better get to finishin’! Else, you wouldn’t make it to the lunchtime rush.”

“Is that part of the list too?” You asked, stunned, you were very sure that was on there until Nonna waved you in. Pointing at the pin board by the doorway.

You slightly let yourself, making sure none of the guck got in the place you just cleaned. Bending and craning your neck upward, you gasp at how the checklist just became double its size from before, a stapler at both ends of the first one connecting to the next.

You quickly turn your head, tone accusatory- “you added onto it!”

“There’s a lot to do,” she shrugs, “didn’t quite give you the full list.”

She points to the first saying how that was Nonno’s list while the next was made by her. You pouted, finding it unfair- knowing how it wouldn’t be completed in a day, actually more than a week no less!

“How am I supposed to help you guys tomorrow if I can’t find my place today?”

She hums, tapping her chin before snapping her fingers and roughly pinching your puffed out cheeks.

“You stay upstairs with us, of course!”

“WHAT?”

You reflexively scream reacted, falling to your dramatically as your hands catch your upper body before it fell into the door way face first.

“Not a bad deal, right dearie?”

“Rightly so, dear wifey!”

You could hear the old couple tease you (with the old man coming in to see what the racket was that disturbed him from his cooking routine, only to see his wife amusing herself once more with the new kid she “adopted” (nonna’s words not his)) making you feel even more depressed, wondering what made you think it was a good idea in the first place to sign up to this deal.

You wanted info- and they needed a helper. The end.

You should have read the Terms and Conditions really. (The non existent one aka, reading between the lines and the vibe of the couple.)

Alas, you accepted your fate, resigning to it really as you stood up, looking at the list before retuning to the trash area, where the old couples kisses and giggles were still echoing by the back door way. A reality slapping reminder of what you needed to get back to immediately.

Kneeling by the pile you left, you spot a cat- a strangely pristine white one with bright blue eyes. It looked a bit fancy to be wandering around this part so you checked its neck for a collar yet there was none.

Humming to yourself, you called to it softly as you removed your stickily sweat gloves.

The cat, as if heeding your call, comes closers to your whispers of encouragement and ultimately sits before you meowing and nudging its head towards you.

“Aww!” You gleamed, immediately petting it with your finger tips, but melt even more as it long and fluffy tail wrapped around your fingers- as if urging you to continue your pampering.

“You’re such a cutie! Aren’t ‘cha?” You continue cooing at it, and with how immediately comfortably attached the cat was with you- you decided to try and carry it by opening your arms.

The cat crawls pause, sensing your pets has stopped and stares at you.

You stare it back.

Like a lightbulb popping up, the cat meows and stand up, crawling closer and…

“Now who the hell is there?”

You and the cat screech, both jumping in the air.

Although the difference between the two of you was one landed on their ass while the other ran away.

Unceremoniously once again.

You heaved, looking at the man intimidatingly making himself known by the entrance of the alleyway to the back door of the bakery, smoke in hand while the other was on his side- a holster you assume as you see something gleam below the morning light.

You noticed that he wore a suit quite similar to the men you met last night. Although this time, it was dark navy blue in color with a heavy coat on top, and brown shoes that seemed quite shinier that the jewels he wore on his fingers.

As you picked apart his outfit, he came in closer, noticing how you shivered at his presence (you weren’t it was just cold and he surprised the beejeebus out of you.)

So he stopped a bit aways away, five feet apart to be safe of the unexpected accusation that might come along by strangers at the street side.

“Got any business with this place?”

“Huh?” You look up at him, finally looking at his- less irritated, more confused than anything- face. His slicked back blonde hair made his eye brow raise and forehead creases even more noticeable as he tossed to you his questionable stare.

“Oh, uh yeah- I do.”

He nods, “right.”

You deadpanned, with you not believing him and him not believing your words— you decided to start the conversation again by standing and introducing yourself.

“I’m Graves,” he does the same, and stuff his hands in his pocket, offering a nod and grin.

“Like…” you paused, “the tombstone?”

He deadpans this time and sighs, shaking his head.

“You... you can put it that way,” he waves his hand, “but what’s your business here anyway, shortstack?”

You grumble to yourself about his nickname but placed in the back burner for later, where you would also burn him- but that’s a plan in the making.

“Why do you need to know?” You reply, a bit apprehensive of his prying. It’s not like he lived here- as far as you know.

…Maybe he was going to hustle you for messing with his favorite smoking spot?!

“Oh!” You turn to him, making his mouth clamp shut. “This might have been your smoking spot right? My bad.”

You bowed your head in a slight bow when apologizing, “its just that the owners of the bakery told me to clean up here,” you pointed to the pile of dump on the trashcan, “but as you can see, its taking me some time.”

He laughs, finally connecting the dots in his head and figuring who you were.

“Those old hags giving you trouble?”

Suddenly his arm was on your shoulder, slinging you forward and into his space which made you slightly flinch away, half uncomfortable and the other half making you hope wouldn't dirty his- clearly expensive- suit then blame it on you and pay for cleaning or worse... replace it.

Yeah, you didn't want to think about that.

So, you shook your but deeply sigh anyways, "it's all good."

You didn't know why but you wanted to reassure the stranger. In hope of getting him off your case? Maybe so- but it was more likely that his suit quite stank from the smell of cigs and alcohol, but with the mix of his- high end- cologne- it was just a smell that spelled disaster for your senses.

"Really now?" Unconvinced he was again but at this point, why did you continue to care?

So you huffed, sliding out of his grasp- surprisingly easily- and went by the back door, arms crossed just like a certain someone had done moments ago.

"Really," you rolled your eyes, "but its up to you to believe it or not."

Graves' eyes sparkled, smirk widening as he sniffs out a challenge- a challenge to his authority.

He scoffs out an amused chuckle as he sees you stomp back into the bakery in a huff, clearly cutting short your interaction with him and the conversation.

A conversation he quite wanted to continue.

So he follows, interest now piqued, wondering if you were a new face in town or simply a fleeting face he'd forget in a momentary notice. Whatever it was, he wanted to know.

His gut feeling says he has to--

it hasn't proven him wrong after all.

Entering the warm bakery as compared the cold breeze the outside gave made you shiver, hoping your body would better quickly adapt to the temperature change.

Quickly hanging your apron, you called out to the two that you came back for the lunch rush, all the while washing your hands in the kitchen's sink.

Whistling a tune, you think back to the words of Nonna earlier, having said that you would have to stay here until you get the end of your bargain. At least, that was what you think she meant until the list is done and dealt with.

Your actions slow as you think of an alternative-- you could text your co-worker and ask them right now, but that was embarrassing to think of doing. They gave simple instructions of how to get at the place, yet you somehow got lost and stumbled upon so much more people than you think you would have before coming into this reputable city.

To be honest to yourself for a moment, you didn't want to admit it to them not because of embarrassment- but because of how you felt ashamed of yourself. You didn't like having yourself in this position, squandering away for any penny you can make, scraping by with each paycheck, and most of all, for being so stupid that you can't even repay the kindness your co-worker has shown you. It felt like a waste, that you weren't using it right now-- staying at their place and slowly making it up to them by paying back every single money they spent to pay for rent, utilities, and food that they provided.

So you resolved yourself, slapping your face with the washed hands to wake yourself up from the quite long (short) introspection of your situation right now.

You did owe Nonna and Nonno for staying here, but for the boss of Soup? No... Suds-? Anyways, you had to repay that guy's boss as well for the lodging last night.

Maybe you can rearrange the agreement with the couple to provide- at least- the minimum of minimum wages so you wouldn't be just free labor for their amusement.

Despite thinking that they really might need some help, looking around at the state of place.

"Seems like you washed your hands extra clean."

You hear a sip behind you, jumping once more as you naturally glared at the person that spooked you.

"Could you like," you waved your hands around trying to find words, "not spook me every time you appear-- are you the boogeyman incarnate or something?"

This man in front of you, as formal as he looks, just breaks into cackles.

Downright fits of laughter that continuously bubble out of him.

Wheezing and all that-- but you wait, staring at him strangely and for him to catch his breath.

After a couple minutes pass and he doesn't, even leaning against the doorway as he covers his face (which was bright red) in attempt to limit his giggles, you sigh and untangle your arms. Pushing yourself off the sink and moving him aside so you could start the lunch shift.

"Wa-wait!"

You hear the man wheeze out and in frustration, you grumble out a- "what?"

"I- I was only ask-asking about you earlier bec-because--"

"because he's la famiglia, cara!"

You turn to the sudden pop of Nonna at your side, looking at her in question, "what do you mean-?"

"He-!" She quickly slaps his back to cough out his remaining laughter, "is one of my sons!"

"Son?" you ask, head tilting as you think back to that photo on the board. You turn to the board, checking if you were right-- and it was as if fate checked mate you as your eyes locked onto the boy at the far right side of the one completed family picture (you assumed) which had a lot of members.

'Blonde and blue eyes...'

The man, who has just been a disaster a couple of minutes ago, had now regain his composure and grinned at you as if it didn't look like he was losing his balls earlier.

"That's why I was concerned shortcake," he wraps his arm around Nonna (who just snuggles into him), "'cause I'm her son."

'Oof. '

Well, now that you know that they were all their (adopted) children in that picture, you find yourself more at ease in Graves' presence as Nonna chats to him about what happened ever since you showed up, with him humming and commenting from time to time.

As they sat at the side, you continued to do your job, managing the register and the back of the house- sending orders in and plates out.

You did it so much that by the time another table came, you were in auto pilot, customer service mode.

"Hello and welcome! What can I get for y'all started with--"

"Well, aren't you worse for wear."

Hearing that out of place comment made you snap out of your stupor, finally taking in the faces before you.

"The guys from last night!" You gasp, "and Suds' boss!" you glanced at the man with a beard and you could see him smile and nod, reaffirming who he was.

"Yes, that's me-"

Yet he gets cut by the rounding laughter of the table, making you confused, muttered a small, "what?"

"Suds--" The kind man from the other night manages out before falling into another fit of wheezing.

"His name ain't Suds, darlin'," the guy with a rough, scratchy voice talks and you now see that he was wearing a skull mask on the upper part of his face, then a black clothe covering his lower half.

"It's not?"

The man in question groans out, "its Soap you nest-head!"

You clicked your tongue, "Now I'm less inclined to call you that, Suds."

Now even Price chuckles at this exchange, making 'Grickky' looking at him in shock.

"Did you sleep well?"

Price redirects the conversation and you turn to him with a smile and nod, "thank to you sir."

You politely bowed your head and told him how you were gonna pay him back for it, but he just shakes his head- telling that you "shouldn't worry your pretty lil' head over a lil' cash."

"But its not a little amount!" You protested and they looked at you in shock. Thinking that you would just accept it and be done with it.

"I know better than anyone how both kindness and money is precious, so I'll work to pay you back sir."

The determination flaming in your eyes makes them quite stunned at the moment before Price just chuckles, "do as you wish." He says in contentment of the moment, and he was quite satisfied from how you reacted- bubbling and smiling as if you weren't laying sick mere hours ago when they last saw you.

"Cara!"

You hear Nonna call for you and you pause, asking for the four to wait a moment while you walk to see what Nonna needed until you see her approaching in excitement.

"Nonna-?"

"Oh my gosh!" She squeals into your arms, "I can't believe you're meeting all my boys today!"

"Your...boys?"

You stare at her for a moment before redirecting it to the sheepish four who sat there.

Welp... now your proclamations sounds a little awkward...

There was no way she would let her own son pay for lodging at his parent's place.

Even though you've only known Nonna for a couple hours, you were quite sure. A conclusion which made you throw your head back in embarrassment once again.

"just how many sons do you have?!"

A/N: Long chapter for the 2nd one because I got inspired! And also for the warm reception and the attention my silly lil AU for Tf 141 is getting hehe so thank yall <33 Cheers to more chapters to come !!

[seitmai]

Very late and very many thoughts, so I'm gonna utilize the read more function

“How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.” Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”

😬😬😬

The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm.

Not me adding "learn basics of fixing a water heater" to my to do list lmao

Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed. 

💔💔💔

 Next to her, Bob scans the area just beyond the fence, his blue eyes alert behind his cracked glasses. With his unusual prescription, it’s been impossible to find a replacement after they slipped off his face running from a pack of creatures. He made it safely to the church in one piece—one of his lenses did not. Yet, he has never once complained or made excuses for his impaired vision. 

Bob is just such a good soul 🥺

“Oh, Jake…” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as your eyes continue to roam over his body. Yet even covered, he can see your jaw trembling as you cry, “Baby, what…We promised if something ever happened to the other, we wouldn’t give up. We would keep fighting.” “I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”

This broke my heart.. it shows how truly broken Jake is and that every day is a struggle with her for him💔

You turn to gaze into the darkness surrounding you. “It’s like acid in my veins, a constant burning fire in my gut that only grows stronger if it’s not satisfied. Blood’s the only thing that soothes the pain for even a few hours, but it’s never enough. I’ve tried to stop myself, I have, but each time I drink it gets hard to fight. And with every life I take, I feel a little more of myself slip away. I’m not the woman you loved anymore, Jake. I’m just a monster with her face.” Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”

He is still so in love 🥺

“And I don’t care what you think.” Without hesitation, Jake crosses the remainder of his little haven of sunlight and steps forward to join you in the inky darkness. You cower back again but he takes another step to maintain the same distance between you. “You're not going to hurt me. I know that. Because you're so strong and brave and you can fight this–”

The way he believes and trust in her more than she does herself 🥹

This newest revelation is the last straw for Jake. A man can only process so much trauma at once before he reaches his breaking point. Falling to his knees, he hangs his head, tears dripping off his face onto the dusty tile beneath him as his shoulders shake with stifled sobs. 

I just wanna give him a hug, this is a lot 😭

You fall silent again, but Jake just continues to cry with no acknowledgment of what you said. After a moment of this, you plead, “Jake, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. If you want me to go—”  “Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.” “W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say. It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”

He is desperate for a moment of solace and how it was 2 years ago that he is willing to die for that 😭

“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.” “I want you to,” he whispers.

He is so done with this life 🥺

“Please…” Jake sobs loudly, too emotionally and mentally drained to get to his feet and walk to you. “I can’t live without you anymore. I need us to be together, whatever that looks like.” “You don’t know what you’re asking.” “You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”

😭😭😭

Jake can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he possibly can. Your skin is icy beneath his touch, but he doesn’t care. He’s holding you in his arms again and nothing else in the world matters.  Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”

He has already made his peace 🥺

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.

He truly would do anything for her 🥺

Jake picks up the soft sound as it is breathed across the empty warehouse, his ears already tuning into sounds humans shouldn’t be able to hear. His eyes flutter open and just over your shoulder, he can see Bob and Phoenix bathed in sunlight standing at the entrance to the building. Bob has tears in his eyes, his lips whispering your name in horror as he watches the growing gory mess you are making of Jake’s neck. He glances back and forth between Jake and Phoenix, silently pleading with her to find a way to fix this.

Poor Bob 🥺

But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands. 

Of course she does 🥹

Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.

What a small but beautiful goodbye between them 😭

Then she raises her flashlight. As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place. Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours. Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”. Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.” Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.

Together 😭❤️😭❤️😭

The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight. 

A beautiful ending together, like they deserved🥹

Drink With Me (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 6. self-sacrifice Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Vampire Apocalypse AU Summary: Two years after Jake was forced to watch you ripped apart by the creatures that now terrorize the world, he is a shell of the man he once was. However, a familiar voice calling to him in the dark may give him a second chance. Word Count: 5911 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Vampires, Character Death, Murder, Grief, Biting, Mention of Suicidal Thoughts, Drinking (alcohol and blood), Language Notes: Not beta read so sorry for any mistakes! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event! 💗

Series Masterlist

“No….No!” 

He tries to race to your side, to stop the torment playing out before his eyes, but he is held back by hundreds of hands wrapping around him, pulling him away. Fighting against them with every ounce of his strength, he screams, “Get the fuck off of me! We need to help her! No! What the fuck are you doing?” 

“She’s gone, Hangman,” dozens of disembodied voices whisper in unison from the darkness behind him. “I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing else anyone can do for her now. It’s over. It’s been over for years. You failed. Just as you continue to fail every night.”

“No! I can save her! Please, let me save her this time!” Jake sobs as he continues to struggle against whatever is holding him back. “Please!”

But it’s no use. He’s not strong enough. As he is dragged farther and farther away, he sees you lift your head one last time, panic and pain etched across your face. You lock eyes with him and just have time to scream a terrified, “Jake!” before one of the creatures rips your throat out with its teeth—

Jake bolts upright with a deep gasp, only to immediately collapse back onto his mattress with a pitiful moan. He grabs his head as it throbs painfully with every beat of his racing heart and he squeezes his eyes together tightly in an attempt to stop the world from spinning around him. But it does little to help. His nearly naked body feels sticky and gross tangled in his soiled sheet and he wonders if it’s just sweat from the nightmare, or if he vomited in his sleep again. Maybe both…probably both. 

At least he is fairly certain he hadn’t pissed himself this time if the intense pressure in his bladder is any indication. However, he doesn’t have the faintest desire to crawl to the bathroom so he’ll worry about those consequences later. Instead, he rolls over and tries to push your final agonized scream from his mind so he can go back to some semblance of sleep.

Just as he begins to pass out again, he hears the curtain hanging around his small space being pushed back and the toe of a boot digs into his side. Without opening his eyes, he swats at the foot, trying to shove it away. “‘uck off, Phe,” he mumbles somewhat coherently. “‘s too early.”

“Tell that to the rest of us who have already been awake for several hours,” Phoenix snaps, driving her boot deeper into Jake’s ribs. When he tries to roll away, she sighs, “Do we really have to do this every morning? I’m not your fucking babysitter. Get up! Bob and I need your help setting up the trap while the light’s in the right position.”

There is nothing in the world that Jake wants to do more than ignore her and go back to sleep. However, she’s right. They do go through this every morning and by now he has accepted the fact that he can not win this argument. So, reluctantly, he peels open his eyes and squints up at her.

Seeing that some progress is being made, Phoenix removes her boot from his side and takes a few steps back. In doing so, she almost slips on the drink Jake had spilled the night before. Looking around his small space, she shakes her head. 

“Jesus, Hangman,” she grumbles as she kicks a few empty wine bottles out of the way, sending them clinking across the floor only to crash into piles of more. “How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.”

Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve all got our own nightmares that haunt us and you don’t see the rest of us pickling our livers to deal with it.” She hurls a half-empty backpack at him which smacks into the side of his head, nearly knocking over his unsteady form. “Now get your shit together and meet us out front in thirty minutes. We’ve got work to do.” She stomps out of his little alcove to give him some privacy but then pivots to add, “And for fuck’s sake, take a shower.”

Forty-five minutes later, Jake steps out of the shower stall, a thread-bare towel wrapped low on his hips. He shivers slightly as he pads across the cold tile floor towards the sinks. The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm. While they should be grateful they even had any water at all, Jake can’t help but recall a time when a hot shower was the best part of his day. 

A soft gasp leaves your lips as he presses his bare body against yours, pinning you to the cool tile wall. Your eyes sparkle in the muted light filtered through the shower curtain as you gaze hungrily at him. Warm water flows over his back as he sinks into you—

No. No memories. Not now. Not when he doesn’t have the luxury of going back to his “room” and drowning them in booze. 

Instead, Jake quickly dresses, trying his best not to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Half the time—when there is still enough lingering alcohol in his system—he sees your mangled corpse standing behind his reflection. The other half, he left staring at the shell of the man he had become. In some ways, that’s worse because he knows it would break your heart to see what losing you has done to him.

Even though sanitation supplies had only really become a scarcity in the last few months, Jake had given up the will for self-grooming long before that. The tangled beard covering his sunken cheeks is a clear indication of that as is the long greasy strands of hair hanging limply in front of the dark circles surrounding his bloodshot eyes. You had always preferred him clean-shaven and with shorter hair. But you were gone so he didn’t give a fuck.

Exiting the bathroom, Jake heads toward the front of the church. He averts his eyes as he passes the bulletin board that had been converted into a memorial shrine for those they had lost. He remembers the days when there had only been a few names and pictures up there. Now, the fallen takes up every inch of the board and spills out across the wall. Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed.  

Once, this rag-tag group of survivors who had dubbed themselves The Daggers had numbered in the dozens. But now, there are only a handful left. And with supplies and food dwindling quickly, there is no telling how long it’ll be before the rest of them earn a place on the board.

As he pushes his way through the church doors, Jake recoils as he is hit with the full brightness of the sunny day. His headache which had previously dulled slightly in the cold shower came rushing back with a vengeance. Groaning, he digs his sunglasses out of the backpack Phoenix had thrown him earlier and places them on his face. They were a cheap plastic pair Coyote had picked up for him on one of his runs to the pharmacy over a year ago, but they at least cut out some of the glare.

Phoenix is leaning against the fence with her arms folded across her chest, a scowl carved deep into her face. Now that most of those originally in charge were no longer with them, the title of leader had fallen on her shoulders. For the past few months, she had done everything in her power to hold the group together despite the increasingly dire conditions—and one jackass of a drunk who makes her life that much more difficult.   

Next to her, Bob scans the area just beyond the fence, his blue eyes alert behind his cracked glasses. With his unusual prescription, it’s been impossible to find a replacement after they slipped off his face running from a pack of creatures. He made it safely to the church in one piece—one of his lenses did not. Yet, he has never once complained or made excuses for his impaired vision. 

They were the best of the remaining survivors and had become the only real hope the Daggers had left. Yet they spent most of their days dragging Jake’s sorry ass around to ensure he didn’t drink himself to death.

Jake had been like them once: always stepping up when volunteers were needed, doing what he could to fix what was broken, protecting the people within their group. But he hadn’t been that person for the past two years. Not since he had watched you devoured before his eyes as he stood on these very steps.

It was that moment he tried desperately to avoid every night in his dreams. Reliving that day over and over again. Knowing all the moments he could have done something differently or acted faster that would have saved you yet being unable to change anything. Just forced to hear your agonizing final screams before catching his last glimpse of you whispering his name…

He needs to find more alcohol.

“About fucking time,” Phoenix mutters under her breath, pushing herself off the fence.

Bob shoots her a stern look, one that softens as he turns his attention to the new arrival. “Thanks for helping us out, Jake. We appreciate the extra hands.”

“Not like she gave me much of a choice,” Jake mutters under his breath. But seeing the way Bob’s shoulders slump at his words, he does his best to smile at him. “But I’m here now so let’s do this.”

Bob’s smile returns and he nods happily at the other man. As he turns to exit the churchyard, Phoenix shoots Jake another dirty look. He knows despite Bob’s insistence that she keeps dragging Jake along with them, she’s afraid Jake’ll screw up and cost her or Bob their lives. And it’s a fair concern. After all, it’s his fault Bob was almost killed the time his glasses were damaged. Jake had been drunk on patrol and hadn’t seen the creatures until it was almost too late to warn the rest of the team. While Bob never blamed him, Phoenix did. She tried to be as supportive as possible when Jake first began to spiral, but after the incident with Bob, she only tolerated his antics for the sake of her partner. Though not even she despised this version of Jake as much as Jake despised himself. 

Jake knew what a failure and a screwup he had become. Yet as much as he wished he could pull himself together and become the man he used to be, he also knew that there was only one person who could help him do that. 

But you were never coming back.

It’s amazing how much the world can change in such a short amount of time. In the three short years since the creatures first appeared, the center of town is now virtually unrecognizable. Vines and various foliage scale the sides of all the buildings. Cars are abandoned in the middle of the street, some with their doors still open as their passengers fled from them. Every window has been dark since the power grid failed. And without the constant upkeep, everything is starting to decay.

The warehouse is no exception. Once bustling and full of life, it has now is a shadow of its former self. With very few windows save those by the entrance and no interior lights left to brighten the space, the interior becomes a black hole after walking just a few feet into it. However due to a collapse in the roof, at certain times of the day, a single shaft of light shines all the way down to the ground floor creating a small illuminated circle on the floor. 

It is in this small safe haven that Jake finds himself. Echos bounce off the walls of the cavernous space as he puts the finishing touches on the trap in front of him. Four months ago, a few survivors passing through had shared what they had discovered with The Daggers—a way to kill the creatures. Jake still doesn’t understand how it works, something to do with converting normal light into an artificial sunlight of sorts, but luckily there were those smarter than him around who understood and harnessed this knowledge into weapons. Since then, The Daggers had managed to take out a few of the creatures. However, they quickly learned that attacking the creatures in the large packs they usually hunted in resulted in costly casualties on both sides.

It was Phoenix’s brilliant idea to take the stealth approach instead of the head-on one. They began setting traps in the area using motion lights in the hopes of eliminating some of the creatures stalking near their hideout in the middle of the night when they were at their most active. So far, they have had promising results. 

Jake is almost done setting this trap. Then he can test it and use his flashlight to get himself from this shaft of light back outside. Hopefully, he’ll then have time to sneak off to try to find more alcohol before Phoenix and Bob return for him. He hasn’t checked the houses a few blocks to the east yet and maybe—

“Jake…”

Jake’s head snaps up as his heart freezes in his chest, the trap instantly forgotten. His eyes dart around the room searching for the source of the sound. But there’s no one else there. He’s alone…he’s always alone.

Yet, just as he begins to return to his job at hand, he sees something. Squinting, he peers deeper into the heart of the building and just makes out the faint outline of a single figure within the darkness.

Instincts kicking in, Jake draws his knife from his boot and drops into a defensive stance in the center of the beam of light, waiting for the attack he knows is coming. His eyes flicker around the space, searching the darkness for signs of the rest of the swarm, yet for now all he can see is the one in front of him. But he knows that can’t be it. The creatures hunt in groups, using their numbers to overwhelm and incapacitate their victims so escape is nigh on impossible. The only few loners they had come across over the years were ones that had been injured or were too malnourished to contribute to the next hunt.

But the figure standing before Jake doesn’t seem injured or blood-crazed. It stands straight and still, completely unmoving. For several moments, nothing happens. Though still cautious, Jake begins to relax his stance a little, wondering if his eyes or mind is just playing tricks on him.

But then, a voice cuts through the silence. “I was three blocks away when I caught your scent. I don’t know how, but I immediately knew it was you.”

The knife slips from Jake’s fingers, the clatter of metal on tile echoing around the cavernous room. The voice that he had not heard outside of his dreams for the past two years punches him in the chest, nearly bringing him to his knees as tears welled up in his eyes. “B-baby?”

There is a pause before the voice continues, unemotional and flat. “I should have bolted in any other direction, put as much space between us as possible but…I couldn’t. I’m selfish enough that I had to risk seeing you one last time.”

“Oh my god,” Jake breathes. “It’s really you.”

He takes a few stumbling steps towards the figure—towards you—but you draw back further into the shadows. “No! Stop! Stay in the light.” There is a panicked edge in your tone, the first sign of emotion you have let slip in, and it is enough to make Jake listen.

As much as he longs to launch himself into your arms, he reluctantly does what you ask. He lingers just shy of the darkness, the toes of his boots resting at the point where the last of the sunbeams fade on the tiles. 

“How are you here?” he asks, his voice breaking. 

“You know how.”

He did. It was a fear that had nestled in the back of his mind these past two years that he didn’t dare consider. Whether that was out of the fear of falling into despair or building up false hope, he didn’t know. But he had never let himself imagine this moment and, now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do. 

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he says, “You said you caught my scent…Do I smell as sexy as you remember?”

A surprised snort of laughter echoes throughout the room as you are taken aback by his question. But when you speak, he hears tears in your voice, “Yeah, Jake. As sexy as always.”

Whatever cold, distant shell you had put in place when you first arrived crumbled and Jake can now hear the real you behind the words. Swallowing, he murmurs, “Please…let me see you.”

Your outline shifts in the darkness. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, baby. For the last two years, all I could see was that last memory of you. I need this.”

“No. Seeing me like this is not going to be any better than seeing me like that. I’ve changed.”

“So have I. But I love you and I’ll still love you no matter what.”

For a moment, there is only silence. Then you whisper, “Step to the other side of the light.”

Jake immediately scrambles backward, almost falling as he stumbles over the long-forgotten trap. But he makes it to the outer rim of the circle of light and waits. 

Slowly, your shape edges closer to the light. At first, Jake still can’t make out any details of the person in front of him. But when he does, his heart clenches in his chest. 

There is no denying that it is the woman he loves standing before him but yet it’s not the you he remembers. Your skin has been drained of its color and now resembles that of a corpse, cold and lifeless. Sharp, pointed teeth jut out your mouth over bloodless lips and your fingers end in claw-like talons. You are still wearing the same clothes you had on the day you were attacked but they are shredded and stiff with dried blood in various colors ranging from bright red to rusty-brown. Jake wonders how much of it is yours and how much is your victims.

Any lingering doubt he had about how you are here, any sliver of hope you had escaped your fate, is shattered instantly. This isn’t a miracle. It is a nightmare, a curse. 

But based on the gasp that escapes your trembling lips, you must be thinking the same thing as you get a good look at the man he has become. 

“Oh, Jake…” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as your eyes continue to roam over his body. Yet even covered, he can see your jaw trembling as you cry, “Baby, what…We promised if something ever happened to the other, we wouldn’t give up. We would keep fighting.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”

“I’m not back, Jake. That’s not why—” You shake your head, letting your hands drop. “I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake and I never should have come. I should have just let you think I was dead. I-I have to go.”

“No! Please–” As Jake takes a few steps across the circle of light, you cower back, retreating further into the darkness.

“Stop!” There is a pained quiver in your voice. “I’m barely controlling myself as it is. If you get closer…I can’t hurt you, Jake. I can’t. But I know if you get any closer, I will and there’ll be nothing I can do to stop it.”

Jake shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe it. You would never hurt me.”

“You don’t get it. It’s not a choice, it’s an undeniable force. It’s hard enough to control myself when I’m fully satiated, but I haven’t fed in almost a week. Your blood—” You squeeze your eyes closed tightly. When you open them again, they have darkened significantly. There is still some color in them, not the pitch-black orbs Jake is used to seeing when the creatures were attacking, but the change still makes him inhale sharply. “The venom doesn’t just turn us into these…these things. It drives us to hunt, to kill. And that need is neverending.”

It breaks Jake’s heart to hear the pain in your voice and he can’t imagine what you’ve been dealing with the past two years. However, as much as it horrifies him, he also wants to know more. “Wh-what does it feel like?”

You turn to gaze into the darkness surrounding you. “It’s like acid in my veins, a constant burning fire in my gut that only grows stronger if it’s not satisfied. Blood’s the only thing that soothes the pain for even a few hours, but it’s never enough. I’ve tried to stop myself, I have, but each time I drink it gets hard to fight. And with every life I take, I feel a little more of myself slip away. I’m not the woman you loved anymore, Jake. I’m just a monster with her face.”

Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”

“Jake–” 

“And I don’t care what you think.” Without hesitation, Jake crosses the remainder of his little haven of sunlight and steps forward to join you in the inky darkness. You cower back again but he takes another step to maintain the same distance between you. “You're not going to hurt me. I know that. Because you're so strong and brave and you can fight this–”

“It’s not that simple—”

“Yes, it is.”

“Jake, stop—”

“No. Not until you believe that—”

“I've killed Daggers.”

Your admission hangs like a dense fog between you. Obviously, Jake had realized what being turned into a creature meant for your feeding habits, but he had been trying not to focus on that. However, now faced with the truth, Jake suddenly connects a few horrifying dots in his head. 

He swallows before asking, “Coyote?”

Last year, he had gotten there just a moment too late. There was nothing he could do but watch as what was left of his best friend was ripped apart by a mass of creatures. But then, just for a second before Fanboy grabbed his arm and pulled him away, he caught a flash of one of the creatures and he could have sworn…

Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting him to know that, but you nod slightly. Then, in a small voice, say, “And Rooster.”

“Roo….Rooster?” The truth about Coyote had been painful, yet regardless of who killed him, Jake had come to terms with his best friend’s death months ago. But Rooster…

He had left the group a few weeks ago after hearing a rumor of someone sounding suspiciously similar to his godfather leading another group out in the desert. They all knew it was dangerous but if anyone could make it, it would have been Rooster. Yet if what you said was true…

“I never wanted you to find out.” Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, thick, black goo that leaves streaks in their wake. “I tried to stop myself but I couldn't. Coyote was already being attacked when I found him and the blood…this thing took over. And the worst part was he…he recognized me just before I tore his throat out. There was this mix of elation I was ‘alive’ and horror at what I had become. I still see it when I close my eyes. With Rooster it was different. I was alone when I found him. We’ve been starving since you found a way to destroy us and I needed blood so badly. He was dead before he even knew I was there.”

This newest revelation is the last straw for Jake. A man can only process so much trauma at once before he reaches his breaking point. Falling to his knees, he hangs his head, tears dripping off his face onto the dusty tile beneath him as his shoulders shake with stifled sobs. 

“Jake…I…” Your voice is brimming with tears as Jake sees your feet take one hesitant step closer to him. But then, you stop. 

For a moment, there is only the sound of his soft cries echoing through the empty space. However, when you finally speak again, your voice has more of the defiance and strength he loves most about you. “You don’t understand what it’s like. When I slip into a frenzy, nothing in this world exists except for blood. Faces…names…past relationships…none of it means anything at that moment. All that’s left is the pure animalistic need to feed. It’s only after I’ve been sated that I come back, that I can remember what happened or what I did. Standing over what’s left of a person, realizing I’m to blame, knowing I’ve murdered them or I’ve forced them to become a monster just like me. I couldn’t stop myself from killing Coyote and Rooster, but I made sure neither of them could turn. They may not have deserved their deaths, but more than that, they didn’t deserve this afterlife. It was the least I could do for them. And I’m sorry it wasn’t more.”

You fall silent again, but Jake just continues to cry with no acknowledgment of what you said. After a moment of this, you plead, “Jake, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. If you want me to go—” 

“Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.”

“W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say.

It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”

“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.”

“I want you to,” he whispers.

“Jake!” Normally when discussions became this heated between you and you resorted to that sharp tone, your chest would be heaving as you became worked up. Yet this time, your heart isn’t beating and your lungs aren’t huffing air so it remains deathly still. “I can’t do that to you. I won’t condemn you to this life.”

“Please…” Jake sobs loudly, too emotionally and mentally drained to get to his feet and walk to you. “I can’t live without you anymore. I need us to be together, whatever that looks like.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”

You stare at him for a long time, your darkened eyes not giving any hint as to what you are thinking. Then, slowly, you nod. “I don’t want to kill you or turn you, but I need you too. I think…I think I always knew when I came here that this is how it would go and I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stay away.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.” Jake opens his arms, still kneeling on the floor. “Come here, baby.”

With stilted, hesitant steps, you begin to walk towards him. You balk a little as you get closer, fighting against the instinct to avoid the sunlight, but Jake is far enough in the shadows that you can reach him without crossing into the light. Slowly, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him and reach out. 

Jake can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he possibly can. Your skin is icy beneath his touch, but he doesn’t care. He’s holding you in his arms again and nothing else in the world matters. 

However, you apparently don’t share the same outlook. Your entire body goes rigid beneath him, every muscle tensing as he draws you in. He can feel you begin to tremble as an animalistic growl rumbles in your chest.

“Ja—I can’t—Let me go. Don’t wanna hurt—” You manage to choke the words out through a clamped-shut jaw. As your eyes turn completely black, your teeth begin to grow longer until they resemble true fangs. Several poke through your lips as you press your mouth firmly closed. You are still trying to save him despite everything.

Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

And you sink your fangs into his neck.

Living up to your promise, there is only a small sting as your teeth break his skin. However, in seconds, your venom enters his bloodstream and Jake tries to jerk away from the searing pain. However, your clawed hand clamps firmly on his shoulder, forcing him to remain in place. The venom spreads throughout his system until every cell in his body is screaming out in agony. He wants to black out but his body won’t let him. The change is already occurring and he is being forced to be conscious for every last second of his human life.

As you drink, small sounds begin slipping out between your lips, reverberating against Jake’s skin. Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.

However as a vice of white-hot agony squeezes around his lungs and heart, Jake begins to jerk in your grasp as he begins to suffocate. Feeling his distress, you slide your teeth out of his neck and press your blood-soaked lips to the wound. Running your hand through his hair, you coo, “It’s okay, baby. It’s almost over now. I can already taste the change beginning in your blood. But this next part is the worst. Fighting it just makes it harder. Try to relax and let it happen. And I’m right here, my love, forever.” Then you sink your teeth back into his neck.

The choking suffocating feeling only intensifies, but against every self-preservation instinct in Jake’s body, he tries to listen to your advice and just gives in. Closing his eyes, he begins to slip into a sort of meditative state. While the pain or pressure doesn’t lessen, the panic and tension ease slightly. And even once he feels his heart take its last beat and his lungs go still, he tries to remain in this headspace until you are finished.

He isn’t sure how long he is kneeling there before—

“No…”

Jake picks up the soft sound as it is breathed across the empty warehouse, his ears already tuning into sounds humans shouldn’t be able to hear. His eyes flutter open and just over your shoulder, he can see Bob and Phoenix bathed in sunlight standing at the entrance to the building. Bob has tears in his eyes, his lips whispering your name in horror as he watches the growing gory mess you are making of Jake’s neck. He glances back and forth between Jake and Phoenix, silently pleading with her to find a way to fix this.

But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands. 

Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.

Then she raises her flashlight.

As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place. 

The betrayal on your face as you turn to look at him almost outweighs the pain. Jake knows you must think this was a trick, that he must have been stalling you all along just for this moment. Yet, he had meant every word he said.

Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours.

Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”.

Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.”

Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.

The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight. 

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[winterwandersland]

Echoes of Mercy

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Black!Fem!Reader Call of Duty x The 100 x Resident Evil tw/cw: none? word count: 3.5k Task Force 141 encounters an unexpected guest on their search to find the anti-virus.

Chapter Two

On Board

TWO YEARS EARLIER

You didn’t mean to yell at Price how you did. He was just trying to help, just like you were. But none of it had to be this way. No one had to get shot. No one had to get hurt. Mr. Diyoza was just trying to protect his only daughter. If anyone on your team had kids, they would do the same. It didn’t matter what Diyoza did wrong because, in his eyes, she was still his little girl.

And now you're holding kitchen cloths to her throat, praying that it was enough. You weren’t religious, but praying seemed like the only thing you could resort to. It didn’t matter if your prayer was going to a god or some other universal being. It just needed to be heard by someone and you needed that someone to give you at least a grain of hope to keep going.

“Please, to whoever or whatever is out there, keep her alive. I know she has done wrong, but this isn’t how she deserves to die. Let her learn from her mistakes, but please don’t take her away,” you murmured as you prayed, down on both knees and clasping your hands together on top of the cloth, keeping Diyoza from losing too much blood.

She was unconscious, but still breathing, which meant she didn’t cut too deep, which also meant there was a chance she could make it. After this long, she should have bled out and died. Maybe it was the cold air, but whatever it was, you were grateful.

As you kept the pressure over Diyoza’s throat, you gazed over at the rest of your teammates who were staring back at you, watching you like you were doing something wrong.

“The fuck are you all staring at?” you blurted out.

“She’s a terrorist. Why are you still trying to save her? Let her die a coward,” Bravo 3-8 answered.

You took a deep breath before you lost your mind. It was a rational thought. All terrorists were supposed to die. But Charmaine Diyoza wasn’t only a terrorist. She was your friend. She trained all of you. All of your team had some sort of connection with her. How could this be so easy for them?

“She’s your colonel,” you replied.

“She was our colonel. Now, she is a prisoner deserving of punishment,” Bravo 3-8 said.

He was the only one that would speak. It seemed like everyone else had some kind of remorse, but not him. Bravo 3-8 had always been the one teammate you bumped heads with the most. With the 141, he was an angel, but back on your own base, he caused you and Diyoza hell, but especially you. You figured it was because you were a woman, but Diyoza was, too. However, you had heard many times that Diyoza was more respectable because she was taller. Stronger. More capable of being a SEAL than you were.

But that didn’t matter to the government. You were both still women, so neither of you were supposed to be here. Neither of you should or could ever do what a man could, and at some point, you believed it. You almost dropped out of the SEALS camp because of an incident that happened, but a protective lieutenant and encouraging colonel kept your head in the game. If it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t be here.

And now you're sitting with one of the few people who kept your hopes up, trying to keep her alive because she lost the hope she gave you. How ironic.

“We are not letting her die. Sure, she deserves to be punished, but she can’t be punished if she’s dead. If-When she lives, she will be sent to the penal colony on Eligius IV. But her worst punishment of all is having to live with her actions and what she has become. That is punishment enough,” you responded.

It was true. Diyoza would have to live with the guilt of massacring innocent people to get the attention of the government that she wanted. Even if she didn’t regret it now, she would one day.

Everyone was quiet. The aircraft was cold and there was no more bickering about whether to let Diyoza live. She was going to live and have to face the team that had so much faith in her.

The metal of the aircraft did nothing to decrease the freezing air that seeped through the terribly insulated plane. Just before you went to capture Diyoza, Simon had given you his poncho because you hated even the slight breeze of air. You used it to cover yourself up and find warmth and comfort in his scent that lingered on the oversized hooded piece of clothing. You prepared yourself to lie against Diyoza while keeping pressure on her neck, but you had to do a headcount first.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. You counted.

“What the hell?” you said.

“What is it?” one soldier asked.

“There’s eight of you here,” you answered.

“Yea. So what?” the same soldier replied.

You felt yourself start to breathe heavier and you could practically hear your heart thudding out of your chest. “So who’s flying the plane?”

PRESENT DAY

The team skulked about the piles of bodies, many of them still decomposing, their flesh still intact with their bones.

“What if it’s them? Squadron Eight,” Gaz stated.

As much as Ghost wanted to believe that, he knew it wasn’t true.

“There are too many bodies and it’s been two years. All their flesh would be long gone by now. These are recent deaths,” Ghost said.

He couldn’t afford to be thinking about you right now. He needed to be thinking about getting the anti-virus to deliver to the city. Then, once the mission is over, he can go back to reminiscing about the days you were here with him.

Ghost’s direct answer sent chills up the team’s spines. If this wasn’t your squadron, then who was it and what could have placed their bones in piles like this? From what they could see, there were no animals around big enough to kill the people, let alone drag their bodies into a pile. These bodies were at least a month old, but some of them were no more than a week. What could have done this? Who could have done this?

Soap slowly approached the CDC facility door, its cracked glass and moss that decorated the door and its surroundings. Whoever worked here did not keep up the building maintenance, but why would you when it blended in so well with its surrounding area?

He knocked on the door. “Hello?” Soap called out, “Special Forces!”

No one answered.

He knocked again, but there was still no answer, so he did the only other thing he could do in a facility like this. He opened the door, letting himself and the rest of the team through. They each held their guns up as they skulked about the empty lobby.

“Hello? Special Forces! Come out! We’re here to retrieve a package,” Price called out, but yet there was still no answer.

The building was completely trashed. Shattered glass, mold on the walls, and the most interesting of all, blood. Everywhere. There was still a stench, but it didn’t smell like death. It was a mix of must and ammonia once they entered further into the building.

“Someone’s been here recently,” Soap announces. He follows the scent of ammonia to a back door that seemed to be ajar, leading to the back of the building.

“How do you know?” asked Gaz.

“That ammonia smell…that’s piss. Human piss,” Soap informed him.

They continued scouring through the surrounding land, trying their best to ignore the foul smells that engulfed them, practically burning through their nose hairs.

Price raised his fist, bringing everyone to a halt. “Wait, you lads hear that?”

There was a faint rustling through the trees and the murder of crows flocking away that drew their attention. They pointed their guns towards the trees, their flashlights creating small orbs as they lit paths.

“I don’t see anything,” Gaz whispers, doing his best to keep his voice low, keeping anyone outside of the team from hearing him.

They each gathered in a circle, their backs turned to each other, keeping every angle under their surveillance.

Ghost put his weapon down after realizing there was nothing but the rustling of the trees. “It’s just the-,” he began, but a figure suddenly attacked him from above before he could finish.

In these situations, the team would be eager to shoot, but that would be a waste of a bullet when the attacker was so close. Ghost fought off the attacker, Price coming behind the person and grabbing them off of him.

“Don’t kill him! Could be the only way to find the CDC members!” Ghost yelled.

The hood of the perpetrator’s coat covered their face, making it nearly impossible to see who it was. The coat was large, made with fur gathered from the animals during the warmer seasons. It was getting cold out, the teams’ armor barely being enough to keep them warm.

Gaz and Soap kept their guns pointed towards the attacker while Ghost rose to his feet and Price kept the person restrained, finally knocking them onto their back and knocking the air from their lungs.

Price immediately got on top of the person, removing their hood and revealing a woman with blonde tipped hair and grown out brunette roots. The team’s face immediately lit up, Gaz and Soap lowering their weapons and letting out breaths of relief.

Price’s hand gently brushed the hair out of the woman’s face. “Charmaine?”

TWO YEARS AGO

You slowly moved to a squat position, keeping one hand on Diyoza’s neck and the other reaching for your sidearm. You silently wave down one of your members, motioning for him to keep pressure on Diyoza’s wound. Everyone had made it clear that they wanted Diyoza dead, but you couldn’t let that happen. You won’t let it happen. You take a look at everyone as the soldier places the pressure on Diyoza’s throat and you whisper to the team, “If I come back and she’s dead, I will kill every single one of you.”

You weren’t sure if the look they all gave you meant they were scared and believed you or that they were waiting to call your bluff. Either way, you were prepared for both options.

You creeped towards the front of the plane, your gun leading the way, your body tense and preparing for who you may find. The door to the cockpit was ajar, so you gently kicked it open with your foot and immediately pointed your gun to where a pilot should be.

“What the fuck?” you murmured. There was no one in the seat.

But there was someone behind the door.

You ducked as you saw a dark shadow go over your head. You heard the cockpit door slam shut, leaving you and the infiltrator in the small space to fight to the death. He was bigger than you and his face was unrecognizable. You had never seen this man before in your life, but what you did know is that he had to be here on Diyoza’s behalf. But how he got there you could not figure out.

Your team couldn’t hear you struggling over the turbulence and you refused to give up. He had the strength, but you had the intelligence, and you used it to your advantage.

You kneed the man in the balls as hard as you could once he was on top of you. He fell to the side, and you used it as an opportunity to hit him on the head with the barrel of your gun, knocking him unconscious.

You checked the coordinates on the dashboard, but you couldn’t recognize them either. The plane was on autopilot and low on fuel. If you turned off autopilot, you’d burn too much gas and the plane would spin out before you got to the coordinates’ destination.

“Damnit, Simon. Where are you when I need you?” you mumbled under your breath as you banged your hand on the dashboard. You placed your hands over your face and let out a scream loud enough for the team to hear over the ruckus of the plane.

One of your teammates barged into the cockpit, struggling to get through the door because of the unconscious man lying in front of it.

You sat in the pilot’s chair, staring outside of the window, watching as you flew over the open bodies of water that felt like they lasted forever.

“Are you alright?” the soldier, Bravo 4-8, asked. Of all the men in your squadron, you were the closest to him. He understood you. You understood each other. He knew the impact you wanted to make on the world. Like you, he grew up in a house full of women. It was noticeable from the first day you met with him. The respect he gave you like you were an equal and not just a woman trying to prove a point.

When you made a mistake, he didn’t ridicule you, but guided you. There were rumors that you two had slept together, but you both knew it wasn’t true. The rumors made you laugh, considering he wasn’t even attracted to women. You both gossiped about who in each squadron you considered attractive. Whenever there was a new commanding officer or someone substituting to train you, you’d both get in trouble for failing to contain your laughter when you snuck glances at each other after getting a good look at who was training you.

Most of the time, neither of you ever made a move. You were the first when you caught the Lieutenant’s eyes. Bravo 4-8 swore you were done when you were being reprimanded by the jarring lieutenant and instead of staring at him with the serious face that all soldiers and recruits give, you smiled instead. “Yes, sir,” you said, looking up at him with your big, soft brown eyes and full, soft lips.

No one had ever seen the Lieutenant so stuck before, hesitating to send you on your merry way. “Go-get back to work-,” he started before looking across your chest for your name tag. “Abara,” he finished. You weren’t actually being reprimanded for doing anything seriously wrong. The Lieutenant wanted not only an excuse to speak to you, but also to get your head back in the game. You were two laps ahead of the rest of the cohort and you had stopped to chat with your friend, and the Lieutenant wanted to make sure you stayed ahead of everyone else.

“Yes, s-,” you started.

“Just go,” he interrupted. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then, what am I supposed to call you?” you asked him. He couldn’t help to notice the cute tilt in your head, swaying of your arms that was actually a fidget that he came to notice later on.

“Anything but that. And keep still,” he responded.

“Yes, s-,” you began before catching yourself. He could practically see the wheels turning in your head as you thought of another name to call him. “Yes, Lieutenant…” you started, now glazing over his chest as you were now searching for his name tag. “Yes, Lieutenant Riley.” Everybody called the Lieutenant “sir”, but what he didn’t want you to know is that when it came out of your mouth, it did something to him.

You ran back to Bravo 4-8 for a few seconds before passing him, trying your best to contain your giggling, but he knew you couldn’t keep it up for long.

And now he was here with you, trying to figure out what the hell happened and why there was a random man in the cockpit. And oddly enough, he was the only one that could fly the plane.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, quickly rising up and moving past him. You reached for the unconscious man’s foot and‌ pulled him out of the way, making room for you to open the cockpit door and pull him through with Bravo 4-8 holding the door open for you.

“What the hell?” you hear some soldiers mumble.

You drag the man to the middle of the plane, all eyes now facing you both, mainly focused on the random man that was starting to wake up.

“Anyone know who this is?” you ask your members.

They each shook their head and you could tell they were all sincere. They were just as confused as you were. Until Diyoza woke up, you couldn’t ask her questions and even if you could, the chances of her being able to speak so soon were slim.

“Who’s flying the plane?” you hear someone ask.

“No one. It’s on autopilot. We’re low on fuel. Coordinates are set to an unknown destination,” you replied.

“Have Bravo 4-8 fly it and change the coordinates,” another soldier said.

“Like I said, we’re low on fuel. Autopilot can conserve some of it. If we put the plane on manual, we’ll run out of fuel before we reach either destination and we’ll drown in the ocean. The most we can do is change the coordinates,” you explained.

Bravo 4-8 was behind you and hung his head down, his face filled with guilt.

“How do you know so much about planes?” someone asked you.

“Had a few lessons while in the military,” you said.

“Ahhh. Flying lessons with the 141 Lieutenant. Is that foreplay or aftercare?’ Bravo 3-8 joked.

Everyone laughed like it was the funniest joke ever told. Everyone but you and Bravo 4-8. He quickly ended their silence when he announced, “We can’t change the coordinates.”

“What? Why?” you quizzed as you snapped your head back.

“It’s code activated. I tried. It’s not the usual code I use. It’s been changed. I tried every code I know. None of them worked,” Bravo 4-8 replied. His voice didn’t quiver. He wasn’t afraid of you. He spoke to you like a worried friend. A worried friend that wasn’t sure how you all were going to make it out.

“So, what? We just wait until the plane lands itself?” a soldier inquired.

“This plane on autopilot doesn’t land itself,” you explained.

“Not only that, but there isn’t enough fuel for the plane to be landed,” Bravo 4-8 added.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you murmur.

You can see the panic on each of the soldiers’ faces, their laughter quickly coming to a halt. Your only hope now was the random man on the ground. You took a look at everyone and peered down at one soldier putting pressure on Diyoza’s wound. The bleeding seemed to have slowed down, but you didn’t want to risk anything in case you were wrong.

You took a pair of handcuffs and placed them on the man’s wrist, strapping him to the pole of the metal seat. You sat in front of him, your knees bent and spread as you rested your forearms on them with your gun in your hand, waiting for him to wake up. You didn’t know what you would do. Torture wasn’t your thing. You hated it. Knowing that you were in a relationship with someone who could inflict such pain like it was nothing, you weren’t sure.

It didn’t make you uneasy. It didn’t make you attracted to him any less. The only thing it did was make you wonder why it wasn't a deal breaker. Why were you okay with that side of him? And why didn’t it scare you?

Maybe it was because you knew it was part of the job. There would be times that such crimes would be committed, even if no one spoke about them. Only those in higher authorities could get away with it.

Ghost was part of that higher authority.

You called yourself a hypocrite because how could you go calling Diyoza a terrorist when your own boyfriend had committed some of the same crimes?

They were different. Right? He didn’t kill innocent people like Diyoza did. He didn’t go planting bombs. But he tortured people. He imprisoned people. Those were crimes against humanity.

That would make him a war criminal.

But what did he have to go through for him to get to that point? And it was then you realized that Diyoza and Ghost may not be so different after all. What did Diyoza endure to conclude that what she did was okay? What did she know that you didn’t? What did she see?

You felt safe with Diyoza. Even after all she had done. You felt safe with Ghost even after all he had done. It was obvious there were parts of you that enjoyed that savagery, and you wondered if there were parts of you that could do what they did.

[innergoateesong]

The Only Exception ~ Vivianne Miedema

hey 👋, this is my first fanfic and i’m not too sure on it. i’ve been reading the ones on tumblr for about a year so hopefully i’ve gained some knowledge.

This is my work, kinda just made it up as i went. Hope it all makes sense and you enjoy it if you choose to read it. I’m open to feedback and any suggestions on how to improve or any fic recommendations. Thank you.

This is a song fic based off the song The Only Exception by Paramore. Mainly a fluffy fic with a tiny bit of angst dusted in the cracks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry And curse at the wind

I’ve always been an angry person, i don’t allow myself to feel anything but anger. The tears that have ever slipped my whole life have not been from pain, only anger.

He broke his own heart and I watched As he tried to reassemble it

Childhood was tough, but isn’t everybody’s? I’ve always had the view of the world that doesn’t include me. Almost as if i feel i don’t deserve to have emotions and i’m just going through life on autopilot.

And my momma swore That she would never let herself forget

I didn’t grow up with family role models, i barely saw my parents and i never knew either of there families, my life was myself, in my room with chunky headphones in or on the pitch running to get my brain quiet. Nothing quietened my brain more than the pitch.

And that was the day that I promised I'd never sing of love if it does not exist

Even after moving to london to join one of the top clubs in the top english league i hid myself away. I walked into training with tunnel vision, headphones on, no eye contact, no verbal communication. and i walked out the exact same way.

For three years.

But darling, you are the only exception You are the only exception

It probably didn’t seem like it to my teammates but i really liked it at arsenal. My dream club. The 2018 season was when i first made some human contact. Viv started bringing my water from the cafeteria to the pitch for me. She smiled, gently. “Here, you forgot it.” “Oh cheers.” Let’s just say that wasn’t the only time i ‘forgot’ my bottle.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

I knew love wasn’t for me. I got a wee cockapoo and that was the only connection i needed. Until Viv sat next to me for breakfast one Wednesday morning. A soft grin resting on both our faces but a comfortable silence the way she must’ve known i liked it. A warm whisper appearing, “What are you listening to this morning?” “Just some silly love song.” “They’re my favourite.”

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul That love never lasts

Now instead of an empty table with myself another seat was occupied. Breakfast was filled with faint smirks and slow songs ringing through the headphones we eventually shared, learning the tunes the other would hum along to and skipping the ones that would make them both scrunch up their noses. Before heading to the pitch where not another look is exchanged.

And we've got to find other ways to make it alone Or keep a straight face

“Oi, Viv. You and y/n have been getting close, what are they all about?” “y/n’s sweet.” Viv would glance at you in training and whenever else she got the chance but your hard facade was always held too strong for her to get to know you. Once when you got home and comfortable on the couch with Daniel, your cockapoo, there was a picture on instagram of breakfast earlier that day. Fans comments around you and Viv being an unexpected duo took over. You don’t like attention.

And I've always lived like this Keeping a comfortable distance

The next day viv was left alone. You wandered in right before training started, only having time to quickly change. A worried glance from viv was not unnoticed but definitely ignored. You had been letting her in. She was making you feel emotions you swore you never would. That training session didn’t go well. Everyone had seen you taking the game seriously but this was another level, Jonas even sent you in early with Steph to hopefully calm you down. After a rant to Steph about hating the frustration you felt you went to the gym to run. Running gets the anger out.

And up until now I had sworn to myself That I'm content with loneliness

This routine continued. Unfortunately leading to being taken out of the starting eleven and even sometimes getting taken out of the match day squad altogether. You weren’t an international player yet, the coach still wanted the older, more experienced players on their team. The international break closest to christmas brought viv the courage to chat to you. She had an injury so the netherlands had to play without her, leaving her with the few players left. Including y/n.

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

She spoke. You listened. It sounded like she actually cared, she wanted into your mind, she wanted you to open up. You did. Punching walls, tears streaming, voice raising. You went all out. Then she took you home, home to your safety where you automatically resumed your place under a blanket left on the couch from the day before. Viv took her place, lifting your feet onto her lap and giving them a slight massage over the blanket. Daniel raced to sit on your stomach happy to snooze off right there.

But you are the only exception You are the only exception

“Nobody’s ever been in this house apart from me and daniel. I’m glad it’s you who is here.” Although the dramatics of the morning were still clawing at the back of y/n’s mind, she was so glad it ended up in viv being introduced to her safe space. “Would you like to chat?” “I might fall asleep but i’m willing to listen to you?” And that’s how they dozed off together to Viv’s light mumbling about all she could think of.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Listening to the sad songs through shared headphones was a magical experience but when Viv started playing them on the drive to and from work everyday on the car speakers you felt as though you were in dreamland. In the car Viv would sing along to some choruses and y/n would even let out a few hums here and there. The silent bond they had created meant the world to both of them and they both knew it but it was never said out loud. Things started to change when they carpooled together every single day.

I've got a tight grip on reality But I can't let go of what's in front of me here

We were in it together. Whenever y/n started to pull away viv’s grip on them would tighten, when viv’s injury set her back slightly y/n brought her up to breathe in some type of distraction. They started spending meals together, more than just breakfast. They’d go out for dinner or have a nice lunch at one of their homes. They’d usually end up together on a couch to see through the night, making it easier to carpool was their excuse to stay. When Viv got better and was allowed on the plane home to the netherlands on christmas eve it was a hard moment.

I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

Waking up to viv leaving was hard. I stayed still in bed as she got changed and put her suitcase to the door. A quick, dainty pair of lips were placed to my forehead as i flickered awake. “Please don’t go it’s cold out there.” y/n whined as a weak chuckle left Viv’s mouth. “My flight is at 6, i’ll message you when i land. Merry christmas princess.” with one last hug and a pat on the head to daniel viv swiftly grabbed the rough handle of her suitcase and made it out the door.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Waking up to snow made you almost the happiest you had been for a while. A tinge pulling on your heart at the fact someone was no longer resting on the other side of the bed. You always yearned for a white christmas but this was daniels first time even seeing snow and you knew viv would not be happy if you didn’t at least film it for her to see. So as you got wrapped up in a big cozy jumper and viv’s huge coat that she had left behind you got your phone out and started to ring her. “Hoi lieverd.” “Good morning Vivvy,” y/n said as she turned the camera to face Daniel jumping at the door. “It’s his first snow encounter, we wanted you to witness it.” The door swings open and the wee cockapoo goes running. That call lasted over two hours. They were ready to fight the toughness that came with distance.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

When did y/n finally admit feelings for Viv? As soon as they picked Viv up from the airport. It was a silent look and a quick peck that sealed the deal. No words other than an, “i missed you” were spoken, just the way they like it.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Being with Viv almost full time for months showed y/n that Viv is quite the yapper. She can chat about football, recipes, her family, travelling, and even y/n herself for hours and hours on end. Breakfasts at training did not include headphones anymore unless it was a particularly hard day, instead the two were often caught chattering among eachother by teammates. They even started to invite a couple teammates to sit with them every now and then. Unfortunately they had to make the decision that Daniel was getting too big to sleep in their bed with them anymore so they bought him his own to put on the floor next to the shoe rack and he would be allowed in for ten minute cuddles every morning.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Viv came into my life when i needed a lot of fixing. I am incredibly grateful for the way our connection turned me around. That christmas alone was tough but now with Vivvy i know i shouldn’t have to have another like that. I feel exceptionally lucky for her to accept me and how she makes me feel happy to fully give myself to her.

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing.

Love isn’t such a horrible idea anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ sorry for the rushed ending but i hope this helps fills a bit of the gap in viv fics (we need moreee)

Thank you so much for reading 💃

[odyssean-flower]

the winding path of fate chapter 18 sneak peak

The first drops of precipitation landed on Neuvillette’s face. It took him a second to register it before he looked up at the grey skies.

“Aah…” he let out a sigh. While the rain and damp air soothed his mind, it also brought a heaviness to his mind. I should try to restrain myself for today. A birthday party should be a cheerful occasion, with sunny weather and clear skies.

Besides, he didn’t want to disappoint you more than he already did.

The trials had proceeded faster than he expected, though it was now late afternoon. They were mostly over petty offences and disputes. Even the Oratrice seemed to issue its verdicts a little quicker than usual, as though it was also impatient to get the day over with.

And now he was back at the Palais, standing in a corner outside the doors. He absentmindedly watched the people rushing about, looking for shelter from the rain.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind, imagining the flat surface of the sea. It seemed to work somewhat, but the sky remained leaden.

Throughout the centuries of his existence, Neuvillette had learned a few methods to settle his emotions after a trial. One of them was to distract himself with work, which was why he returned to his office even though he technically had the rest of the day to himself. He could have also returned home, but with Marie visiting family and you away for the whole day, the thought of going back to an empty, silent house seemed almost unbearable.

Yet another oddity that he noticed within himself recently. He usually relished quiet and solitude.

Shaking his head slightly, he entered the Palais and greeted Sedene before heading into his office, where he was met with a surprise but very welcome guest.

“Monsieur Neuvillette!” Sigewinne, the head nurse of Meropide, waved her hand merrily at him from the couch. Feeling his mind lighten considerably at the mere sight of her, he strode over to her quickly. There was a tray of tea and cakes in front of her.

“Sigewinne, what a pleasant surprise. I did not know that you had a day off today.”

“Hee hee, I wanted to keep it a surprise!” she bounced over to him with two small boxes. “The Duke also sends his greetings, as well as two boxes of tea.”

“How generous of him. Give him my thanks when you return,” Neuvillette accepted the boxes and studied them. He recognized them as black tea leaves from a high-end brand. He could smell the fragrance of the tea leaves even through the packaging.

“The Duke says he’s giving you two so that you’ll have more to share with Madame. Oh, actually, he said ‘your friend.’ Don’t worry, Monsieur Neuvillette, I didn’t breathe a word about who Madame is to you. I doubt he knows anything.”

Neuvillette raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t pursue it any further. I suppose it’s alright if it’s Wriothesley, he thought. He is not the type of person to engage in idle gossip.

“He also says that he hopes Madame will like it, and that if she doesn’t, then feel free to ask him for another variety from his collection,” Sigewinne added.

“I do think she would enjoy it,” Neuvillette assured her, though he wondered about it. He didn’t believe he saw you drinking tea very much, except during the meeting with Furina. He did, however, remember seeing you drink Fonta on numerous occasions (it appears his endeavours to introduce you to the many varieties of water hadn’t yet borne fruit). Perhaps you preferred sweeter beverages. He tried to recall the pantry back home. Do we have enough sugar cubes or milk?

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” his musings were interrupted by Sigewinne’s voice. She was gazing up at him in confusion, her face tilted slightly.

Neuvillette shook his head, clearing it. “Pardon me, I was lost in my thoughts.” he said, then followed her to the couch, where they engaged in their usual conversation, which inevitably ended in her listening to his water commentary.

“Oh, by the way, Monsieur Neuvillette I really am looking forward to the sunflower viewing party in a few weeks. I can’t wait to finally meet Madame!” Sigewinne said after he finished talking about the properties of water from Mondstadt’s Cider Lake. “She sounds wonderful from what you’ve said of her. Did she come and watch your trials today? Has she already gone home? I don’t see her with you…”

“No…no, actually, she is currently attending her sister’s birthday party back home.”

“Oh, I see…” Sigewinne peered at his face, then glanced out the window. The rain seemed to have stopped completely, but there was no sign of the sun either. She suddenly turned back to peer into his face. “You must miss her.”

“Miss her? No, of course not. She will only be away until tomorrow,” Neuvillette said, almost automatically. But it was the truth. Besides, it was not as though he saw you every second of every day. In fact, it was rather common for him to only see you in the morning and at night. It should not be any different for this time, except for the fact that you would not be at home to greet him when he returned, or bid him good night or good morning…

Before I knew it, I’ve come to expect these things…

“Oh dear,” Sigewinne remarked as thunder rumbled. “Monsieur Neuvillette, how about we take a stroll through the streets? I’ve been wanting to check out the new beauty products on sale anyways.”

“Yes, let us do so,” Neuvillette agreed, then stood up. Guilt welled up within him. He didn’t feel himself lately, and he was letting it affect his emotional state far too much. He was even making Sigewinne worried about him.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. “While we’re out, allow me to introduce you to a new drink called an ice cream soda. Madame introduced it to me yesterday. The flavor is quite intriguing. I do think you’ll like it.”

“Ooh, if you’re saying that, then I have to try it!” Sigewinne clapped her hands together excitedly.

A short time later, the two of them walked out of the ice cream shop with their drinks in hand, leaving behind astonished employees and gawking patrons. They sat down at a table in the back. Thankfully, the surrounding tables were empty due to the bad weather.

“This is good,” Sigewinne commented after she took a sip. “I especially love the fizzy soda bubbles. I’m going to tell the others about this later. …Monsieur Neuvillette, what’s wrong? Your brow is furrowed. Do you not like yours?”

“No, that’s not it…” Neuvillette murmured, staring at his soda. How peculiar. He was sure he had ordered the same flavor you had bought for him. It tasted the same as well. He could tell that objectively, nothing had changed. But what was this sense of wrongness. Is it the soda, perhaps? Did the shop change the variety they used today? Should I inquire about it?

Neuvillette glanced at the shop entrance, which now had a line of people stretching out of it, and decided against it. The staff should not waste their precious time on his trivial question.

He turned back to Sigewinne, who was watching him closely. “There is nothing wrong with my drink, exactly. It is just that it doesn’t quite taste the same as it had yesterday, even though it is the same drink.”

“That is strange…” Sigewinne tilted her small head to the side, as if in thought. “It’s unlikely they would change the recipe in just a day, right? Maybe Madame asked them to add a little something extra. You should ask her.”

“Perhaps I shall,” Neuvillette nodded, then took another sip of his soda. It wasn’t just his imagination--it really did taste different. It had been so hot yesterday. Perhaps that affected things.

All he knew was that the sweetness of the ice cream soda you bought him lingered in his mouth for the whole day.

“What I mean is, Monsieur Neuvillette, you should go and ask Madame now.”

Neuvillette blinked. “Now?” he repeated.

Sigewinne nodded vigorously. “Uh-huh. We both know that you can reach the other side of Fontaine in just a few minutes, and Sedene told me before that you don’t have anything important scheduled for the rest of the day.”

“That’s true, but…I cannot simply show up at her family’s home unexpectedly for such a trivial reason. It will only draw unnecessary attention, and it is already so terribly late in the day…”

He found himself making excuses one after the other. They sounded empty to his ears, even though there was sound reason behind them.

He was no stranger to the clash between emotion and logic--it was something he struggled with all too often. This was no exception. He didn’t understand why that brief look of disappointment had flashed across your face when you asked him if he would like to accompany you to the birthday party. Surely you knew that it was better for you two to not be seen together too much. He did not understand why you had asked him in the first place, nor why the first thing on the tip of his tongue was to say “Yes,” nor why your subsequent justification for his sake had stung him.

If he went to you right now, would he find the answers to those questions?

“Monsieur Neuvillette…” Sigewinne crossed her arms. “It seems to me like you’re making excuses for yourself. If I invited you to my party, I would be happy that you showed up no matter how late. But if you’re worried about it, then…” she rummaged through her bag and took out a small vial. “Here! Give this to Madame’s sister.”

Neuvillette took the vial and examined the label. “A skin serum?”

“I made it myself! Skincare is all the rage among young ladies of the Court these days. Tell her that it’s from me. Everyone loves receiving gifts on their birthday, after all, so maybe this will help soften the blow of your lateness.”

“I’m still not sure if I should take leave for such an inconsequential matter,” Neuvillette hesitated, even as his mind was calculating the time it would take to go from the Court to your hometown near the mountains in the northeast. I do think I’ll be able to get there before dark. “What if an emergency comes up?”

“The Gardes can handle anything,” Sigewinne assured him. “And I don’t think it’s inconsequential at all! You were invited as a guest. I’m sure your presence there will make everyone very happy, including Madame.”

“If you say so, Sigewinne, then I suppose I could stop by for a little bit and give your present,” Neuvillette was already standing up. “I do apologize that I can’t spend more time with you today.”

“Don’t worry! We’ll see each other again at the sunflower viewing party at your house,” Sigewinne smiled at him. “I can’t wait to meet Madame.”

“I feel the same way. She would be delighted to meet you as well,” he said, and meant every word of it.

After saying his goodbyes, he quickly strode away, back to the Palais. I have to write a note of absence for Furina first, and then collect some things. What sort of water would be appropriate for a birthday party, I wonder…

“Monsieur Neuvillette is already very cute, but he’s gotten even more adorable lately,” Sigewinne murmured to herself as she observed the sun breaking through the dense clouds at last.

[xoxochb]

please!! leo x ares!reader🫶🏻🫶🏻

— pop (rock) star!! ✧˖°

★ - “pop star fuck around and act like I'm a model / I don't like the cameras but I love it when you ogle”

warnings: per usual swearing (save me), I don’t play guitar so descriptions may be incorrect, established relationship pairing: leo valdez x daughter of ares a/n: I actually had SO much fun writing this, I hope you like it as much as I did anon :)

💿 - now playing… pop star by coco & clair clair

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Is it difficult? learning guitar?”

“uhm…” you remove your fingers from the guitar strings to focus on the question for a moment “it depends, I think. mostly on what song you’re trying to learn. some are easy some are hard.”

“oh.” leo purses his lips and lets you continue strumming the guitar. you had been playing a song you came up with yourself, something random you had made when you were bored over a rainy day. leo had been there, encouraging you to proceed making it. so you did. you had wrote a paper worth of notes and cords to your song. not yet had you conquered a name for it, for now it’s just “(name)’s song,” which in theory could work. or not.

leo watches attentively as your fingers run over the strings, calloused and nails painted black (he asked you if you painted them any other color— in return he warned a glare so he chose not to question your decisions again. moral of that story: don’t ask ares kids why they do certain things, just accept it). your hair cascades over your face like waterfalls over mountains, veiling your eyes and preventing you from seeing further. he fights the urge to reach out and tuck the strands behind your ear or maybe even tie your hair up. your lips pressed into a tight line as you focus intently on your playing. he’s helplessly enamored with you, may the gods of olympus save him from looking like a lovesick idiot.

“hey, take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

leo, embarrassed, snaps from his daze with a cherry red blush over his cheeks. you laugh, and this only brightens the color. “uh… sorry. I got distracted.”

“by my hands? you’re real taciturn, valdez.”

“I’m just watching you play, that’s all.”

you sigh and continue until he speaks up again, making you stop playing with a frustrated huff

“can I? take a picture of you?”

you furrow your brows. “what? why?”

“so this can last longer.”

“go ahead. my polaroid’s in my drawer.”

happily and excitedly, leo hurries to your bedside table to find your camera, sitting directly where you stated. he takes that and some film and sits back down on the wooden floor with you, careful not to trip over your wire in the process (he did that once— ended up in the infirmary for two days with a concussion). he places the film into the camera and positions it to be his previous eye level, so the photo is identical to his sight prior getting up. then, he presses the photo button and the camera flashes, nearly blinding you in the process.

he waits eagerly as the polaroid photo very slowly dispenses out of the top of the camera. when it’s an inch from finished he rips it out himself and starts shaking it around to get it to show the image faster. you place down your guitar beside you and crawl over to leo, placing your head on his shoulder.

“how long does it take to show up?” he whisper-asks

“not long. have patience.”

he sighs and places it on the floor as he awaits the photo to print fully. for the time being, he takes your closest hand and toys around with the rings on your fingers. some he had even crafted himself and gifted you, those special rings had his initials engraved on the inside. bored, he averts his eyes to the photo that he sees had fully developed. he gasps loudly and picks it up with a wide grin.

“hey, look! I’m gonna hang this up on my wall in the forges.”

“you’re joking.”

“I never joke.”

a lie, but in this specific scenario he surely wasn’t joking. that photo stayed up there for the rest of his time at camp

[ak319]

a nice request because we all deserve it, sadie and reader being besties/soulmates/sisters and even if people try to separate them, they somehow always come back together

When Sadie joined the gang, you were thrilled to have another woman you could truly call a sister. But when Arthur told you what she’d been through, you felt a shock settle over you and an urge to make her feel as comfortable in the gang as possible.

You didn’t do much work around camp yourself, likely second only to Molly in doing almost nothing, but Arthur’s hard work covered both of your shares. Even so, you could feel lazy at times. So when Sadie arrived and Ms. Grimshaw started scolding her for being a burden, you stepped in, doing more of the work so that Sadie could rest and cope with her trauma.

Your care and company helped her eventually open up to you, and you came to see what a remarkably strong woman she truly was. You couldn’t be prouder.

"Hey, (Y/N)." You turned to see Sadie striding over, her new gear and black jacket catching the late sun, an excited gleam in her eyes. Setting aside the dish you’d been scrubbing, you smiled. "Well, don’t you look dashing."

She winked, leaning against the basin with a smirk. "Wasn’t I always?" She tossed you a playful look, then tilted her head. "So…you know how to shoot a gun, right?"

You felt a little heat in your cheeks as you chuckled nervously. "Uh, gun? Not exactly."

Sadie blinked in disbelief, her jaw dropping. "What?! You’ve been living with outlaws all your life, and neither of ‘em thought to teach you?"

"Well…” you shrugged, glancing away. “I was young when Dad was around, and after he passed, I just never felt the need, I guess. And once we were with the gang--” You trailed off, only for Sadie to scoff and seize your arm, tugging you toward the woods without a second thought.

“HEY! Hey! Where are we going?!”

“Where do you think? I’m gonna teach you, girly!"

“Teach what?” Arthur’s shadow fell across both of you as he stepped into your path.

Sadie glanced up at him, not an ounce of her spark fading. “I’m gonna teach her to shoot, Arthur.”

“And why’s that, Ms. Adler?”

Sadie met his gaze, unflinching. “Because she’s my friend, and don’t you think the sister of the ‘best gunslinger in the West’ oughta know how to handle a weapon? She oughta learn, right, (Y/N)?” She looked at you with a fierce grin, her confidence contagious. You gave a firm nod. “Yeah…I do want to learn.” Arthur’s gaze shifted to you, a small scoff escaping him.

"Fine," he muttered, crossing his arms. "But don’t be gettin’ reckless. Be back soon. Don't got too far."

Sadie smirked, unfazed. “Can you stop orderin’ us around for one damn second, Morgan?” She nudged his shoulder as she marched you past, puffing up with satisfaction.

“Damn…” You chuckled as you walked beside her. “That was fun to watch, do that every day, please.”

She laughed with you, her stride bold as you both reached a clearing deep in the woods. There, with patient resolve, she taught you how to handle the gun, steady your aim, and shoot straight, her guiding presence turning each attempt into a small triumph.

Shooting wasn’t the only thrill that had become a staple in your friendship with Sadie. At least once a week, you both made it a point to slip into town, getting up to whatever mischief caught your fancy. It didn’t matter if it was something as innocent as shopping, where Sadie often barked down the shopkeepers during bargaining, or something as wild as crashing a wedding. You couldn’t help but smirk, you could officially check that one off your list.

When you both returned to camp, it wasn’t long before Susan caught sight of you, her face pinched in that familiar disapproving way. “Where did you two run off to today, hmm? Having fun while others do the work?”

Sadie shot back without missing a beat, her tone dripping with defiance. “Of course, we had fun. By the look of you, I’d say it’s been a while since you’ve had any.”

You nudged Sadie, stifling a laugh, though the humor didn’t last long. Susan’s voice cut through with a sharper edge. “Well, some of us do actual work around here instead of frolicking around all day in town.”

You took a deep breath, deciding to keep it civil. “I went after finishing what I could for the day, Ms. Grimshaw.”

“Oh? And by that, you mean what? Washing two pieces of clothing?” Her scoff stung, and your smile faded. That was it.

“Now, first of all, I don’t have to do any of it,” you replied, voice steady but firm, “seeing as this whole camp practically thrives off what my brother does. But I still help out, from the goodness of my heart. C’mon, Sadie.”

You grabbed Sadie’s arm, and she looked at you, a flicker of surprise in her eyes before breaking into a grin. “Well, look at that. My company’s finally having an effect on you, in a good way, I’d say.”

“I’m just sick of all the chore talk. Can’t a girl relax once in a while?”

Once you’d left Susan fuming in your wake, you and Sadie joined Abigail and the others, handing out the little gifts you’d picked up in town. The warm smiles from Abigail, Jack, and the rest made it worth it, a small reminder of what life outside the gang could feel like.

Soon enough, sneaking out became something of a habit. You and Sadie would slip out at night when Arthur was away on a job, sometimes taking the other women along. No Ms Grimshaw scolding or nagging to keep you tied down, just the freedom to be a little reckless, to feel like you had some control. And Charles? When he patrolled, he was easily convinced to keep it all a secret.

But Ms Grimshaw did have her ways of finding things...

"Well, if it isn’t our very own troublemakers," she snapped, her gaze fixed on you and Sadie, who were both just returning from a night out with the others. You’d barely managed to set down your packs when she stormed over, hands on her hips. “Thought you could sneak out and cause a ruckus without anyone noticing, did you? It’s dangerous enough out there as it is, but dragging others into your little escapades is a step too far.”

Sadie rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, and you braced yourself, knowing the real storm hadn’t even hit yet. Grimshaw shot both of you a withering look, muttering something about going straight to Dutch.

Not even fifteen minutes later, Dutch himself found you both by the campfire, his face a blend of frustration and disappointment. He folded his arms, giving you both a hard look. “Now, I heard some interesting things from Ms. Grimshaw this morning. You two think it’s wise to be sneaking around, taking half the camp along for a joyride? With Pinkertons and O’Driscolls sniffing around every corner?!”

Sadie stayed silent, her jaw set as Dutch’s gaze landed on her. "Sadie, I understand you’re your own woman, but this here’s a family. And we look out for each other’s safety. Taking the others out at night like that, it puts everyone at risk.”

You felt the weight of Dutch’s words, but Sadie huffed, arms crossed defiantly. “You call us family, Dutch, but don’t expect us to live like caged animals. We’re careful, we weren’t out in the open.”

Dutch’s frown deepened as he turned to you. “And you, (Y/N), you should know better than this. You might not be one of my gunslingers, but you still have a role to play. What if something had happened to you? Or one of the others? Arthur won't be happy if he found out...do you want that?”

Swallowing, you looked down, the reality of his worry sinking in, but not enough to make you feel you’d done something wrong. “NO! I mean--don't tell him please Dutch, and I’m sorry. But… it was just some time away from the camp, just a way to feel normal for a bit. No one got hurt. We’re still careful.”

He shook his head, looking both of you over before sighing. “Careful or not, you keep this up, and it’ll bring nothing but trouble. Next time, you both think long and hard about what’s at stake here!”

Once Dutch walked away, you looked at Sadie, both of you sharing a silent understanding. The scolding might have left a sting, but it wouldn’t change what you’d built together. She nudged your shoulder with a smirk.

“Well, at least he didn’t send us packing.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Ain’t nothing gonna change, is it? Not Dutch, not Grimshaw, and certainly not us.”

Sadie grinned. “Nope. Not one bit.”

⋆⋆⋆

Word had gotten around the camp that Dutch’s scolding hadn’t done much to break up your mischief with Sadie. The next time you found yourself alone by the fire, Charles approached, looking a little uneasy as he settled next to you.

“You know, (Y/N),” he began carefully, “I’m not trying to get in your way, but a lot of folks are worried about you and Sadie going off so often. It’s... reckless, especially with all the dangers around.”

You shot him a look, half-amused and half-defensive. “Charles, you know Sadie and I aren’t careless. And you know better than anyone that the camp needs a little... escape.”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, as if he wanted to say something more but hesitated. “Look, maybe for a bit, you should keep a low profile. Sadie’s got her hands full around here already. You know Grimshaw’s not about to let this go.”

The gentle nudge was clear, Charles was subtly trying to steer you away from Sadie, hoping it might keep the peace. You gave him a smile that you hoped would reassure him.

“I’ll think about it, Charles,” you replied, even though you had no real intention of distancing yourself from Sadie.

But the subtle hints didn’t end there. The next morning, Grimshaw handed you a mountain of chores, insisting you stay busy while Sadie got sent on an errand with Arthur, as if the camp were conspiring to keep you apart. The day felt like it dragged on forever, and by the time you were done, Sadie still hadn’t returned. You wandered back to your tent feeling restless, the quiet gnawing at you.

Finally, near dusk, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps. Sadie had returned, looking as annoyed as you felt, her gaze scanning the camp until it landed on you.

She sauntered over, her usual confidence edged with a slight smirk. “Heard they kept you real busy today.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You, too. They sent you out with Arthur?”

“Sure did,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Probably thought he’d keep me ‘in line.’ But if they think a few chores and errands are gonna split us up, they’re wasting their time.”

You both shared a grin, the unspoken understanding strengthening whatever they’d tried to weaken.

“Well, looks like we’ll just have to be a little smarter about sneakin’ off,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Sadie chuckled, crossing her arms. “Reckon we will. Besides, it’ll be fun to keep ‘em guessing.”

⋆⋆⋆

Life at the ranch was a new kind of quiet you hadn’t known before. After everything, this normalcy, the steady rhythm of days spent under a roof, sharing meals with Abigail, John, Arthur and little Jack, felt almost surreal. You’d never imagined feeling the weight of peace settle like this. Thank God, that blindfold of loyalty is finally off your brother. Yet, even with a good life beginning to take root, you couldn’t shake the ache from how it had all ended...or how, despite everything, you and Sadie had been separated, each of you pulled in different directions as the dust settled.

Charles had told you she was safe somewhere out there, making a name for herself in whatever way only Sadie Adler could. But there was a hint of betrayal you couldn’t shake, an edge to the thought of her that made you wonder if she’d left you behind as part of that rough world you’d survived together.

On this particular morning, you were sitting on the porch with Jack, who was excitedly yapping away about a new book he’d found. It had become your morning ritual, letting him share every detail of the story while you sip your coffee, the soft morning light casting a gentle calm over the two of you.

But the peace was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of hooves in the distance. When you looked up, your heart skipped a beat. A lone rider, the silhouette familiar even from a distance. She rode into view, her hat tipped low, and you knew before she’d even slowed her horse.

“Sadie!” you shouted, the disbelief almost louder than your voice. You jumped up and ran to her, barely giving her time to dismount before you threw yourself into her arms. She wrapped you up tight, the both of you laughing, giddy with that same energy you’d shared back in camp.

But then, as the reality of her long absence hit, you started punching her, soft jabs that held more meaning than harm. "You absolute snake! BITCH!” you muttered, hitting her shoulder, her arm, anywhere you could reach. “You just left! No word, no letter...nothing! Do you know how long I waited?”

Sadie took it, grinning like she was actually enjoying the punishment, her laughter spilling out as she grabbed your hands to stop you from flailing. “Alright, alright! I deserve that, probably more. But I didn’t forget you, y’know.” She held your shoulders firmly, her face softening as she looked you in the eyes. “I never could dumbass.”

“Then why’d you stay gone so damn long?” you asked, your voice cracking.

Her expression turned serious, the reality of it all weighing on her. “Some things I had to settle on my own. And I knew you’d be safe here, with Arthur, John and Abigail. With family.” She squeezed your shoulder. "So now, you're talkin' to a real gold-ass bounty hunter," she said, throwing her arms out like a magician who’d just pulled off the trick of a lifetime. "But I’m here now, and I’m not plannin’ on disappearing again anytime soon.”

You let out a long breath, feeling the hurt ease a bit. “You better not,” you replied, hugging her tight again.

Soon enough, the others came out, drawn by the commotion and Jack's excited voice as he kept chatting with Sadie. The day rolled on with laughter and good company, and later, you and Sadie found yourselves sitting on the porch, enjoying the quiet night as she smoked.

“(Y/N), you’re mostly free, right?” Sadie asked, an excited gleam in her eyes.

“Um… no, I do work around here… and all,” you replied, caught a bit off guard.

“What if you didn’t for a few days?” Her eyes sparked with mischief, and you found yourself smiling despite yourself.

“You mean…”

“Yep! It’s time you learned a bit of bounty hunting,” she said, voice full of excitement. “Imagine it: two women, both traumatized by men, turning into man-hunting machines. Don’t you want that?”

“But Arthur… he won’t, and we left all this life behind-”

“Shh!” Sadie swatted at your face with dramatic flair. “Excuses are the root of failure. Enjoy a little , c'mon, just like the old times.”

“But we have a ranch-”

“FUCK THE RANCH!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Look (Y/N)...I wanna a home of my own and for that...I gotta remain in this field for a while so I can get somethin' to call my own, y'know.”

"This ranch is big enough for us all, Sadie. Of course we all will welcome you with open arms if you wanna stay here."

"I know, I know, and thanks, but no. I just want something of my own, even if it’s small. I mean, I can do it alone, y'know, but I want you by my side. And seeing that everyone else has left this lifestyle behind, I know they're definitely not gonna be joining me, not even Arthur. Now that we're free from all the gang shit, I thought we could roam and enjoy the rest of this life as much as we can." Her voice softened with each word as she stared down at her lap.

You looked down, thinking about it. She did deserve that after losing everything she had. And who wouldn't want to explore with their friend endlessly? You put your arm around her shoulders and gave a firm shake. “Say less.”

⋆⋆⋆

“No. Absolutely the hell not. Are you insane?!” Arthur snapped, finally turning around from his spot.

“Arthur, please! Be a good brother right now and just say, ‘Of course, (Y/N), you can go and have a good time with your pal.’ Come on, say it.”

He crossed his arms, unimpressed. “If you think I’m just gonna say yes to you running around out there, then you are DUMB!”

Abigail, standing nearby, came to the rescue. “Arthur, they’re just going for a trip. It’s nothing big, and Sadie can more than handle it. So can (Y/N). They’ll be back before you know it.”

“No, Arthur’s right,” John chimed in.

“Shut up, John. Please,” you replied, giving him a gentle nudge as you turned back to Arthur, your voice softening. “Pleaseee, Arthur! If you don’t let me go, I’ll… I’ll seriously do something drastic--t-to to myself!” You gave him your best pleading look.

Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes at your childish blackmailing. “You’re laying it on real thick,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He gave Sadie a look. “And you, I know this whole thing was your idea!”

Sadie shrugged leaning against the chair. "It's just something we both need."

“Like hell you do! My decision is final. And you-” Arthur turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Think twice before even stepping foot off this ranch.” With that, he stormed off, leaving you both in tense silence.

But you were having none of it. He still thought of you as a child, someone who couldn’t defend herself, who couldn’t even swat a fly, let alone fend off danger. You glanced over at Sadie, who was staring off into the distance, a flicker of guilt settling into her expression, as though she regretted bringing it up and getting you tangled in her plans. And you didn’t like that one bit.

This was the woman who had taught you to be confident, to speak up, to stand your ground when the world tried to tell you otherwise. She was more like a sister than a friend, the person you’d count on to get through even the worst of times. You were each other’s rocks, through every fight and every high. Sadie would bring you gifts to cheer you up when things felt bleak. And now she was just trying to carve a space for herself, a house of her own, where she could finally feel free.

A spark of determination lit inside you. If she wanted a place to call her own, then by God, you were going to make sure she got it.

That night, as everyone else drifted off to sleep, you packed a small bag with essentials, just enough to keep you going for a couple of days. You knew Arthur would be furious, but you also knew he’d forgive you eventually. He had to understand that some choices were yours to make.

Carefully, you slipped out of the house and made your way across the moonlit yard, avoiding the creaky spots on the floorboards that might wake someone. Outside, the night air was cool and still, and the only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle creaking of the barn as it settled. You made your way toward the stables, saddling your horse as quickly and quietly as you could. You took a steadying breath before mounting up, heart pounding with a mix of exhilaration and fear. This was your choice, and you were ready to see it through.

With a gentle nudge, you rode into the night, following the faint trail that would lead you to Sadie. You knew exactly where she was camping, she’d mentioned it enough times, and you’d memorized her directions. You just hoped she hadn’t moved.

After a few hours of riding, you spotted her fire in the distance, flickering like a beacon. You dismounted and walked up, and as you drew closer, you saw her sitting by the fire, eyes widening in surprise as she looked up.

“What in hell’s name, (Y/N)! What’re you doing here?” Sadie gasped, scrambling to her feet. Her surprise turned into a grin as she realized what you’d done.

“Arthur or no Arthur, I’m not letting you go on this adventure alone,” you replied, determination in your voice. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together. Always.” Sadie’s face broke into a mischievous smile and pulled you into a quick, tight hug.

“I knew there was a reason I kept ya around.”

[goldkirk]

.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Just applied for a summer childcare position (like for a camp type thing) that pays 20–28 dollars an hour based on qualifications (I should be towards the end of that scale because I work in a school; and the only requirement the job lists is to be 16 and have experience with children). So hopefully they’ll consider me. That would be wonderful.