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lqveharrington · 2 months ago

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Past is Catching | W.H.B.

summary: billy never tells you about his past, and it comes back to haunt him AND you.

pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

includes: fluff, gun violence, cursing, knife play, death threats, angst, billy blaming himself for everything that happens

a/n: i miss writing for tom blyth, my husband 😕💋

Billy got himself into another fight with another outlaw, causing even more trouble to pile onto his shoulders. He jumped from town to town to keep under the radar, but eventually the trouble would come knocking. Whether it was the rival gang or a sheriff he got into a saloon brawl with because of one mistake in a game of Blackjack, he was always on the move. Even when he thought towns would grant him safety and peace, they would eventually try and expose him to the authorities for reward money. He was never at rest.

Not until he made it to the small town of Mesilla.

The entire town had no clue who Billy the Kid was. Hell, they didn’t even know Billy was an outlaw unless he decided to tell them. They just saw him as another person passing through their town. Like any other outlaw, Billy made the rash decision to settle down in the small town where all his worries seemed to be nonexistent.

He picked up a job to tend to an old farmer’s fields and ranch, which he found calming since he loved tending to the horses. He was even offered a room at the place for all the work. Billy was paid pretty well with the addition of the room and he had weekends off, so he could roam the town and explore the place when he wasn't on errand runs.

When he was tasked to buy things at the store for the farmer, there was this one woman he always ran into at the grocery store. Typically, the women in the town would cower from him because of his demeanor and the gun latched to his side, but you had no problem standing up to him when he grabbed the last jar of jam before you.

After the jam argument — and Billy losing the argument with one less jar of jam — he always looked forward to more of the banters. It felt familiar to have small arguments, although the ones before usually ended with a shooting rather than a small goodbye like you and he did.

Before the both of you knew it, you were spending more time outside of errand runs and less time bantering until he officially began courting you. You expected it, but it was still a nice surprise that he formally asked your father for approval and then asked you with a bouquet. It was awfully sweet to see a rugged cowboy like him ask you to be his with wildflowers.

The only thing Billy ever kept from you was his past as a fugitive. He doubted that it would ever come for such a small town in New Mexico, but Billy’s trouble had come knocking once more. Even in the town he thought he was safe in.

“You can’t distract me from my own chores, Billy.” You tilt your head away from his kisses and do your best to hang up the white sheets without dropping them. “Just because you’re done with yours doesn’t mean you can bother me just yet.”

“I have nothing else to do, sweetheart.” He nudged your cheek with his nose and placed his hands on your waist line as he pulled you close so your back was flush against his chest. “M’pretty girl… So perfect and jus’ f’me.”

“Oh, hush.” You click your tongue before your head perked up at the noise of hooves coming closer, slowing your task to listen for how many there were. “Do you know if my Pa is expecting anyone today? Sounds like the whole town is comin' down to visit.”

He hummed and shifted to look over your shoulder before he felt the color drain from his face. He quickly separated from you and pushed you towards the house, not caring that the white sheets fell across the dirt floor or that you gave him confused looks.

“What is—“

“Get inside an’ don’t come out ‘til I come and get you, alright? Don’t let anyone but your Pa exit the house. Not without a gun.” He rushed out and kept nudging you inside the house, his eyes wild with fear. “Stay put.”

You frowned as he placed a quick kiss to your forehead and reached for his gun. Your eyes widened at the notion. He never used that gun and you believed that it was just for show. But as he checked to see if there were bullets, your mind started blaring alarms.

“What’s going on?”

As if he didn’t hear you, he shut the door behind him tightly and walked toward the fields where you initially heard the galloping of hooves. You really wanted to stay put and listen to him, especially when he had his fingers on the trigger, but you were stubborn and wanted to know why he made you hide.

Slowly, you took quiet steps toward the side of the house where you last were, peering through the lace curtains. You could barely make out a group of men that started to surround Billy, making you wonder even more. Billy’s hand was steady on his gun as one of the men spoke to him, your eyes darting across each of the different men staring your Billy down.

You wanted to hear what they said to him. You wanted to know why he made you hide. You wanted to understand who Billy truly was and why he seemed so afraid of you being with him.

Taking a deep breath, you twisted the door knob and opened it a crack, just enough to hear the conversation between Billy and the mysterious men.

“So this is where the infamous Billy the Kid has been staying, huh?” You heard a ruffed voice call out when silence completely took over the group, the tone of disgust laced in his voice.

You strained your neck to hear the conversation better, but the sound of boots shuffling had gotten closer and closer to you, causing you to flush your body against the door.

“And what about it?” Billy spoke coldly, your eyebrows jumping up in surprise. You never heard him speak cruelly before. He was civil to everyone in town and especially sweet to you and your family. “Where I go doesn’t concern you.”

“It does.” A different voice piped up, this time an older voice. “You owe us something.”

“I don’t fuckin’ owe you anything.” Billy replied with an even harsher tone, the sound of his gun clicking echoing through the air.

You were so confused. What did they mean by him owing them something?

As they continued their conversation, you opened the door a little wider when you thought the shuffling moved away from your side, but what you didn’t expect was a pair of unknown eyes meeting yours. Before you could even try and run back into the house, a different pair of hands held your arms and pulled you outside where the rest of the men stood. You twisted in the man’s hands when Billy saw you, his face falling before pulling himself back together.

Your hair fell from its original updo and your breathing was uneven. You could feel Billy’s burning stare and felt his disappointment underneath the rage toward the men touching you. You mouthed sorry to him as they brought you to the middle of the circle — right in front of Billy.

“Look what I found listening in on our conversation.” The man shook you slightly, causing you to stumble over your feet. He gripped your arms tighter and your face contorted in discomfort when he took your chin in his rough hands to face the rest of the crowd. “Isn’t she a doll?”

The man who you supposed was the first to speak to Billy stepped toward you, touching your hair and your clothes in interest. He squinted as he scanned your face before looking down at your neck, which had one necklace Billy had given you a while ago. With his true initials engraved at the back of the heart.

“Is this your girl, Mr. Bonney?” The man tugged on your gold necklace, making you whimper at the sudden action.

Billy clenched his jaw and tightened his hand around his gun, keeping his azure eyes locked on yours. “That doesn’t concern you either.”

“Oh, why keep secrets? It’s only us here.” He unsheathed a pocket knife and traced your jaw softly, grinning when your breath hitched in horror. The knife trailed lower until they were above your chest, the red lines beginning to appear. “Plus, I would hate for something to happen to this pretty lady—“

“Billy—“ You whisper out and catch his fire filled eyes, the blue in them gone and only filled with black.

“Get your fucking hands off her.” Billy pointed his gun toward the man and pointed the other toward the other man beside him. Where he got the other gun you would never know.

The man’s smile grew, “So she does belong to you.” He watched you shut your eyes before pushing you out toward Billy, your body nearly hitting the desert floor before Billy caught you. “How pathetic. Billy the Kid, gone soft and settled down in a little town.”

You wince at the sudden impact and bite your lip when you met his stare. “I’m sorry…”

But before Billy could respond or before the men could shoot at either of you, your father stepped out of the house with his shotgun pointed at the head man, eyes enraged at the sight in front of him. Billy shifted you around so you were tucked safely in his arms and away from all the different guns pointing in all different directions.

“What’s goin’ on here?” His gaze drifted toward you and Billy before looking at the group. He didn't care much about the actual fight, he only cared for his daughter's safety. “And what are you doing on my property?”

The man chuckled, pointing his gun toward Billy's head. “You know this man is a fugitive?” His eyes crinkled in dander. “If you let him come with us, we’ll split the money with you.”

Your father scoffed and pushed his way through the men, standing in front of you and Billy. “This man has been nothing but kind to our town and my family.” He grabbed your arm and tugged you up before clapping a hand around Billy's and pulling him up as well, tipping his head down in thanks. “And it seems to me you’re the one disturbing our peace. So please, take your men and horses and leave.”

The silence that ensued made you uncomfortable. It seemed like everyone was staring one another down with pure hatred. It was only until Billy shot a bullet into the air that the staring contest between you father and the men stopped.

“Fine.” The man spit on the ground and flipped Billy off. The rest of the men climbed onto their horses and began to ride away while the same man stayed to speak words of hate. “The second you step foot outta this town you’re dead, Bonney.”

You watched the men ride away before you looked back at Billy in pure confusion, stepping away from his frame in space when his tired eyes shifted to you. Your father pursed his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, tossing his shotgun toward the ground.

“Now what happened?” He huffed and took a glance at Billy who was rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

You pursed your lips and scratched the spot above your chest, eyes wanting — needing — to meet his. “Who were those men? Why did they say you owe them something—"

“I told you to stay inside.” Billy pulled you into his arms and gently rubbed the top of your head, shutting his eyes in desperation. "You could've died."

“Who are you?” You murmur and pull away, placing a soft hand on the rough of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and kissed your palm, eyes still shut. You thumbed his cheek, "Billy..."

"I never meant for you or your family to get involved." He whispered and opened his eyes, shiny with so much emotion. "I thought I was safe here, but..." His hand came up to trace the red lines across your beautiful skin, his frown deepening. "You got hurt." Billy leaned his forehead on your shoulder, whispering words of regret. "M'beautiful, perfect girl... M'so so sorry."

Your heart broke as you heard his words, your own eyes watering with all the emotion he was pouring out. Your father looked at the both of you and nodded at you before taking his leave; he knew you would catch him up later. After a few seconds, you pulled him up to stand up straight and looked him dead in the eye.

"You shouldn't have lied to me." You murmur and wipe a stray tear falling from his cheek. "But, you protected me and my family. If it wasn't for you, I probably would have died—"

"Not funny."

You roll your eyes and cup his face firmly, "The point is I love you for who you are. You've made a life here. Hell, they can't do shit or my Pa and the sheriff will get their asses."

He raised his brows at your profanity and squeezed your hip, pulling you close to him. "Who said you were allowed to use all those naughty words?"

"You." You rest your chin on his chest and flutter your eyes in joking yet flirtatious manner. "Do ya love me or not, William?"

"I love you." He peppered your face in kisses and smiled when you laughed. "But I should teach you how to use one of my guns before trouble comes 'round again."

"Fine by me." You tuck your hands into the back pockets of his jeans, pushing on your toes to press a kiss to the tip of his nose before he shakes his head at you. "No more secrets, Billy, or my father might shoot you instead of those men."

"Again, not funny, sweetheart." He buried his head in your neck. "I promise, no more secrets from you." Billy leaned back and pressed a mind searing kiss to your lips before thumbing your chin, smirking at your dazed expression. "Never."

"Never?" You look down at his lips before back up to his eyes, meeting his attentive and loving gaze.

"Never." He leaves one last kiss to your lips.

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gaypirate420 · 2 years ago

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Last kiss // Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock Hale x GN!reader

A/N: I literally cried while writing this.

Summary: You give Jasper a kiss, one of many, but not quite the same as the others.

Angst. Death. Blood.

Everything was spinning.

Your body is dropped into the hard and cold pavement, your sight was becoming blurry, the raindrops were falling over your face as your blood dripped down your neck,

You saw a shadow, a vampire what else could it be, running away full speed from your weak body.

You couldn't stand up, your body was starting to burn from the inside.

You screamed in pain and anguish of your destiny.

"My darling!" That was Jasper, shouting in a tone you've never heard from him, you felt his cold arms hold you gently close to his chest.

"It's okay— you're okay— you're going to be okay, my love." He whispered desperately as his hand applies pressure on the wound of your neck, he's frightened, your blood smells so sweet—

The blonde vampire shakes his thoughts away and looks into your half lidded eyes.

"Y-yes. I-i'm going to be like you now, cowboy." You whispered in a weak and broken voice, you were shaking, maybe from the cold of the night or for the fear of what's to come.

Jasper shakes his head in denial.

"This— I didn't want this for you—not yet." He whispered back, his hand cupped your cheek and stroke your skin.

"I know, love, I know." You said softly meeting his golden eyes, you tried to smile but your chest was hurting in a way you never knew it was possible, making you whine instead.

Jasper wants to look away from you, but he can't pull away his eyes from your weak body.

The vampire wants to run, run to Carlisle and scream at him, beg him to save you in some miraculous way and keep you human just for a little longer.

To return what has been stolen from you this night, the right to choose.

But the vampire is frozen, frozen in place, kneeling down with you on his arms, looking at you as you suffer a slow and painful death.

"Is it going to hurt? T-the transformation I mean." You asked, your voice small, Jasper could only nod, his eyes were looking at you but they were vacant.

"Terribly, the worts kind of pain there is." He managed to say in a broken voice, he couldn't lie to you and he knew you only wanted the truth, to prepare yourself.

He kept you calm, using his gift to make it a little bit more bearable.

"I'll be fine." You whispered as your shaky hand cups his face, he leans into your touch and nods again, you smiled but your smile was quickly turned into a sorrowful expression.

Your eyes, those eyes he loves so much were welling up with tears, you gasped and the tears falled down your cheeks.

Your pain is too much for his gift but he wouldn't allow you to feel worse.

"Kiss me." You begged in a whisper that sounded painful, he looks at you, frozen in fear of moving and causing you more pain.

"Kiss me, Jasper, please, I need you." You repeated, the blonde vampire leaned down and closed the gap between you and him.

Your warm lips dancing with his cold ones, a perfect dance, a kiss full of love and passion.

"My last human kiss, just for you, my beloved." You whispered against his lips, Jasper hugs you tighter.

"Thank you. I will cherish it forever, love." He spoke with a soft voice, he smiled reassuringly and kissed your forehead. You whispered his name and how everything will be fine, how you and him will be together in a beautiful immortality.

Your whines and cries of pain broke his heart, he could only caress your skin and whisper how this is somewhat normal and that you'll get through it.

Minutes that felt like hours passed by, he knew it was a quick process, he has seen multiple vampires be created and felt their anguish.

But yours is one he can't bare.

You stopped speaking, the vampire is relieved that you don't have to be in pain anymore.

His golden eyes met yours, his dead hearth breaks into a million pieces when he sees the light in your eyes shut down.

It was absolutely terrifying feeling your body go limp on his arms, how your mouth make this final sigh and your head hanged low.

His cold lips meet your forehead and he picks you up on his arms.

Jasper starts walking almost on autopilot to his home, trying to process everything that is about to happen to you.

It was a long walk, but he made it.

No one said a word, for the first time the house full of vampires fell silent. They only watched him hold you and bring you upstairs to his room, shutting the door and not letting anyone in.

"I love you." He whispered against your ear as your lifeless body lies down on his bed.

"I'll wait here, I'm not going anywhere, you'll see me when you wake up again— and you will wake up." Jasper whispers but it sounded like he was trying to comfort himself the way you'll do it.

He kissed your cold cheek and hold your hand.

And now the vampire waits for you to return to him.

#jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #the twilight saga #twilight x male reader #twilight x reader #twilight saga #x male reader #jasper hale x male reader

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sunsetchicane · 7 months ago

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cowboy like me [LN4]

lando x fem!reader

word count: 8.2k

summary: The one where you work on a ranch and it’s everything you know. There’s nothing that can come between you and your love for your home. Not even a handsome stranger who seems to pull the best out of you.

warnings: slight angst, some fluff, horses!, brief sexual innuendo, a singular swear word, and one [sad] kiss.

author’s note: hey! hi! hello! this is my first fic on here (omgggg 🤭) so please, please, please let me know your thoughts/comments/questions! might write a second part to this…thoughts??[xoxo elle]

~~~

Buxton Ranch has been in the Buxton family before Montana even became an official Union state in 1889. Land wasn’t simply a commodity or property back then; it was life or death. William T. Buxton and his wife, Mary Anne, put their boots down on this land along with their four children and they’ve never left. They fought their way over the mountains, survived the unbearable, and have reaped the benefits of their resilience for over a century and a half.

Willamina T. Buxton I, my boss, is the great-something granddaughter of William T. Buxton I. Her father, William T. Buxton VII handed over the ranch to her on her 30th birthday a few years back. The controversy caused ripples through the entire community because even though Willamina is Mr. Buxton’s first born, the ranch has always been handed down to the eldest son. Willa is the first woman to ever have ownership of the ranch.

My family hasn’t been in Montana nearly as long as the Buxtons. My mom and I moved out here in the spring the year I was born. My father skipped out before my mom could even hold herself upright in her hospital bed after laboring with me. She tells me that we came here to Montana for a fresh start, and what better place to go than where the sky is bigger and the air is pure. The mountains became our safe haven, our buffer from the rest of the world and, more importantly, our history. It’s easy to forget up here, to allow your mind to rest. I’ve never been at a loss for why the Buxtons came and never left. Sometimes, in the dark of my room, I pretend that I really am a Buxton, that I truly belong.

However, when the sun breaks across the mountain peaks and the world comes alive once again, I’m forced to realize that I don’t belong to the Buxton dynasty. I simply work for them.

My alarm blares to my right, causing me to shoot upright. With fumbling fingers, I seek for the power button of my alarm clock. When I finally find it and shut off the hellish noise, I fling my legs over the side of my bed. With the heels of my hands, I rub the sleep from my eyes. The world around me is painted in a deep blue, still fast asleep and undisturbed by my alarm. I envy it as I rise from my bed and get ready for the day.

Silently, I pull on my bootcut Wranglers and a light green long sleeved button down. My belt and beat up old boots complete the ensemble for the moment being. My next stop is the bathroom where I brush my teeth and comb my hair. Tying my hair off into a low braid so it’ll sit right under my hat takes only a couple minutes. I’ve been wearing my hair the same way to work every day for the past seven years.

Once I’m done in the bathroom, I make my way to the kitchen where a pot of coffee is automatically brewing on schedule. I toss a few eggs into a pan as well as two pieces of bread into the toaster. The breakfast of champions and me every single day. After crushing a cup of coffee and my plain breakfast, it’s time to head out. Instead of living on-site with the rest of the ranch hands, I still live with my mom. I’ve been wanting to move out to the ranch for over a year now since I finished college, but the possibility of breaking my mom’s heart stops me from even mentioning it to her.

Glancing at the clock, I know I have plenty of time to spare, but I start to pack up and head out the door anyway. I enjoy being early to the ranch. It’s peaceful and serene before it wakes and rises. Grabbing my work jacket because the winter’s just turning over to spring, my chaps, and my lunch sack, I head out the door. My mom and I share an old, sunburnt orange Chevy truck that just barely runs. I toss my things into the bed of the pickup before sliding into the worn out driver’s seat. As I slide the key into the ignition, I send up a quick prayer that she turns over. When I press the key forward, the engine roars to life. Prayers have been answered this morning and I hope it’s a good omen for the rest of the day.

The drive to Buxton Ranch is short and sweet, all dirt roads and drifting grassy fields. The radio sounds quietly and the engine hums loudly, but everything else is completely still. A distant light orange is just starting to brush the very edges of the horizon in the east. Nature is starting to reach out and stretch its sleepy limbs.

As I pull up to the place where I always park near a stretch of fence, I see a figure dressed in shadows leaning over the wood a few yards away. Once I’ve tossed the pickup into park and yanked out the keys, I jump down from my seat so I can walk over to her. She’s always out here before everyone. Sometimes I see her, most times I don’t. When I do, it feels like fate, like there’s something about today that’s meant to happen this way. Or maybe it’s just Willamina Buxton.

“Good morning, y/n,” she rasps without glancing over at me. Crossing my arms, I lean over the log fence and take in the view. I don’t think there’s a better view in all of Montana than that from Buxton Ranch.

“Good morning, Willa,” I answer quietly. Her brother, Wyatt, was my best friend growing up. She’s only 12 years older than the two of us, but somehow she seems infinitely older and wiser. She’s been a role model for me. We grew closer after Wyatt left for college a few years back. Of course he came back in the summers to visit, but he never stayed long. He wasn’t born for this life. Instead of horses, he dealt with horse power. He always wanted to become an engineer for Formula One. When the opportunity came to go overseas to study in England and intern at McLaren, he hadn’t even thought twice. One day he was here, and the next he was gone.

I struggled with feeling abandoned for a while, but I came to terms with it quickly. I realized that dreams were meant to be chased and he was incredibly fortunate to get this opportunity. I was also chasing my dream, I just had to go down the street instead of across an ocean. We keep in touch, calling frequently and texting nearly every day, but it’s not the same. I miss him.

“Heard from Wyatt recently?” Willa says quietly then takes a sip from her mug of iron black coffee.

“Not in a couple of days. Seems busy,” I mumble. Wyatt’s leaving is a bit of a sore spot for Willa. She wanted him to stay on the ranch and in the family business. Her asking about him is a bit of an anomaly.

She hums, then pauses, then sighs. “Lots to do today. We better get going.”

And just like that the work day starts.

I tend to the horses right away, leading them out into the corral so I can wash out their stalls from over the weekend. I give each of them fresh hay and fill up large troughs of water for the more temperamental ones. Then I lead them one at a time back into their stalls and give them a thorough once over to check how they’re doing.

The last one I have to put away is the youngest of the group. He came to us only last year, unbroke and wild as the river. He’s a black Morgan stallion, sleek and athletic. He’s larger than your typical Morgan, with rippling muscle, and a proud face. He’s beautiful. We call him Jupe.

“Jupe,” I coo kindly to the untamed stallion. “Come on, Jupe.”

He casts a look over his back at me telling me everything I need to know. Sighing, I toss myself over the fence and into the corral. With my palms raised up and in front of me, I show him the leather lead in my hand as I walk over to him slowly.

“Come on, Jupe, we gotta go back inside. I cleaned up real nice for you, boy. Fresh hay, new water, you’re living the five star life, buddy,” I say while creeping up on him. He doesn’t move, but simply tracks my movements with his black eyes. Nerves claw at my stomach as I approach him. Reaching out slowly, I praise him and repeat his name over and over. Finally, I slide the clip of the lead around a loop in his bridle. But there’s no relief yet. I still have to get him into the stables without incident.

“Good boy, Jupe,” I say, reaching out gently to stroke his nose. He pushes at my hand playfully. A surge of pride washes over me. Maybe the two of us are finally making progress. Jupe lets me lead him out of the corral and back to his stall with ease. Today really is my day.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the stallion as I slide the lock shut on his door. Jupe’s head hangs over the short door, his head coming down to level with mine. Patting him gently, I pull a couple sugar cubes from my pack. I hold them up to him on my flat palm and he slurps them up gratefully. A smile that I can do nothing to stop breaks across my face. I’m gonna saddle him up one day. And maybe that day is sooner than I’d anticipated.

“Only you would give that stubborn Morgan a treat,” I hear a familiar voice say. I whip around in disbelief as the tone and inflexion registers in my mind.

“Then again, maybe the two of you have bonded over your mutual stubbornness.” Wyatt hardly gets the words out before I’m taking his arm in mine and wrapping him up in a hug with the other. We laugh as we sway side to side. My hat careens to the side of my head as I hug him and I know I must be getting him all sweaty and dirty, but I can’t find it in myself to care about vanity at the moment. Wyatt’s back.

“Surprise!” He says when I finally let go of him. He’s wearing a bright smile as I pull back. Wyatt reaches up and straightens out my hat for me.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming!” I say while smacking the back of my hand against his shoulder. “I would’ve gotten off work and…”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” he laughs as I slide past him to finish up sweeping this side of the stables.

“You’re right,” I laugh along with him while I sweep. He knows that I love my job too much to step away from it. I hate missing a day and he knows that.

Wyatt takes a seat on a stack of unused hay bales that I’ll have to load back up. He chats with me about school and England and McLaren. I don’t know much about Formula One, just what I picked up on from Wyatt constantly chatting my ear off about it. Most of the stuff that Wyatt has told me, however, goes way over my head. What I do know is that this boy is an engineering genius and McLaren is lucky to have him now as a full-time employee. They offered him a job straight out of university. He’ll be living full time in the UK. My stomach twists at the thought.

“So, what do you have going on for the rest of the day?” Wyatt asks after I’ve finished sweeping. I place my hands on top of the broom and lean my chin over my fingers.

“Riley and I were going to take down that rickety south fence and…” I start to say while mentally checking my to-do list.

“Sandy’s helping Riley with that,” Wyatt says matter-of-factly. I cast him a questioning look to which he simply blinks at.

“Alright. Then I have to go to the cattle and check on all of the pregnant…”

“Louise has that covered,” Wyatt informs me while picking at his nails. What is he getting at?

“Why…well, then I have to…” I begin, trying to move away from things that he could possibly know of.

“Go riding with me and my friends!” Wyatt exclaims while hopping off the hay bales and clapping his hands together. “Wonderful idea.”

My jaw drops. There’s no way that he’s trying to make me skip the rest of the day to go riding. Not after we just had a conversation over the fact that I would never do that. That I could never do that. I have an obligation to be here, to get things done.

“Wy, you know I’d love to, but I’ve got work to do,” I say firmly while walking over to hang up my broom. Jupe huffs and brays at Wyatt as he walks briskly over to me.

“No you don’t. I made sure of it,” Wyatt says while grabbing my hands so I have no choice but to stand in front of him. “Willa’s told me to inform you that if you’re found working this afternoon, there’ll be severe consequences.”

At that, I know I have to oblige with Wyatt’s request. If Willa gave the all clear, there’s no reason for me to try and argue. One thing about the Buxtons is they’re nearly as strong-willed as the horses they hold. Not to mention it would be incredibly rude of me to not accept Willa’s generosity. This doesn’t stop me from letting Wyatt know exactly how I feel about him pulling me away from my work. I do so in colorful language the entire walk over to the house.

“You don’t even want to go riding with me, you just want me to be your guide,” I feign an accusation as we approach a small crowd of people on the large front deck of the Buxtons glorious ranch home. I see a few ranch hands and two other men that I don’t know, who must be Wyatt’s friends.

“You are the best guide out here.” His backhanded compliment earns him an eye roll. As we approach the house, he tells me to wait for a second while he calls over his friends. Their heads turn quickly to the two of us when Wyatt calls to them. They say hasty goodbyes to the staff they were chatting with before walking over to Wyatt and I. One is tall and pale, with pale eyes, and pale hair. His cheeks are flushed a slight pink from the chill that still hangs in the spring air. He looks lively and excited, his eyes bouncing around from one thing to another at lightning speed.

The other man is shorter with cropped, dark, curly hair. His hazel eyes are sharp and brilliant against his tanned skin. As he draws nearer, I can tell that he’s very physically fit. He’s wearing a tight long sleeve shirt that hugs his arms, brand new boot cut jeans, and a shiny pair of boots that have obviously never been worn. His eyes, unlike his friend, don’t wander while he walks over to us; they stay trained on me. A small smile falls across his pretty pink lips as he finds me watching him swagger his way over. He’s attractive.

“Never seen a British boy in cowboy boots before,” I say when they stop in front of us, glancing down at the brunette's footwear. When my eyes flick up to his, he still hasn’t stopped looking at me. Clearing my throat, I extend a hand to the blonde.

“Hi, y/n,” I introduce myself while shaking his hand.

“Mitchel,” he says, his accent is sharp and acutely German, which takes me by surprise. I nod, casting him a warm smile. I watch as Mitchel’s eyes flick to Wyatt over my shoulder. Following suit, I catch Wy smiling like a fool and a slight blush that I don’t think has anything to do with the weather coating his cheeks. When he sees me looking at him, he quickly crosses his arms and looks away. My smile widens. Mitchel drops my hand and then stuffs his back into his pockets.

“Y/n,” I say to Wyatt’s other friend who has a bit of a staring problem. He takes my hand in his slowly.

“Lando Norris,” He says crisply, his accent confirming my previous assessment. “Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

His name catches in my mind, as if I’ve heard it before but I can’t place it. Wyatt must have mentioned him at some point, but for the life of me I can’t remember what about. A moment passes and our hands stay held together in the space between us as I try to place him. My eyes scan over his face and catalog his freckles and scars and the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles. When it dawns on me that I’m now the one with a staring problem, I swiftly pull my hand from his. Briefly, his jaw clenches.

“Finally, huh?” I take his previous statement and run with it. Turning my back to Lando, I glance over at Wyatt. “Just what have you been saying about me?”

“All good things, all good things,” Wy assures me while coming up to clasp me on the shoulder. He leans into me with a big smile that makes my stomach churn at the thought of what he’s actually told his friends. What does Lando think of me? Why does it matter what Lando thinks of me?

“Well,” I say quickly, trying to shake the thought of Lando from my head. “I suppose we should get going if we want to be back by sundown.”

The three boys nod their heads in agreement. The four of us walk over to the stables. Wyatt and Mitchel walk slowly behind me as they chit chat and laugh. Casting a glance over my shoulder at them, I watch as their shoulders bump together and their fingers brush intentionally. I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling. Wyatt’s alway had a hard time with romance and partnership just because of where we grew up and the hate he received for simply being himself. Seeing him this way, happy and smitten, makes me feel proud. It affirms that his leaving was necessary in so many ways.

“How long have you been working here?” Lando’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. My attention slides over to him. He’s come up to my left, his hands folded behind his back. His eyes are wide and curious as he looks at me. I can’t help but feel like I’m being analyzed.

“Seven years. But I’ve been on the ranch all my life. I took riding lessons from Willa and then became fast friends with Wyatt,” I tell him while pulling my eyes from his. Returning his gaze seems difficult, so I keep my eyes trained on the stable. He hums in acknowledgement of my response. I can feel his eyes on me still.

“Do you work at McLaren with Wyatt?” I ask my new acquaintance. He chuckles to himself a little, his pretty eyes squinting from his large smile.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he says, making me feel like I’m missing something. I scoff at his vague response, but don’t press the issue. If he wanted to explain himself, he would. His aura is interesting. He seems so sure of himself, completely at ease with who he is. It’s captivating.

We make it to the entrance of the stable and I instruct Lando and Mitchel to take a seat while Wyatt and I saddle up the horses. It takes us a while to get everyone ready for the trail ride, but with every passing minute, the more excited I get. Wyatt and I used to go out on the trails all the time. During the summer as teenagers, we would stuff our packs full of camping supplies and go for days at a time. Those memories are my most cherished possessions, things that I will never forget. Now whenever I take others up there, I feel as though I’m bearing a part of my soul to them.

Once we’re done getting everything ready, Wyatt leads his and Mitchel’s horses, Rudy and Molly, outside with Mitchel in tow. This leaves me alone with Lando. My stomach twists nervously when I feel his presence looming to my right.

“Ever ridden before?” I ask while petting Luna, a beautiful sorrel tovero paint. She’s older, but strong and steady, a good horse for a beginner.

“Yeah, loads,” Lando says while joining me in stroking Luna. I cast him a critical glance. If he sees it, he ignores me. Rolling my eyes, I really can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. It’s important to know what you’re doing while working with large animals. I make the mental note to keep him in my line of sight at all times while riding.

“Oh, good. Then you’ll be good to lead Ms. Luna out? She’s yours for the day,” I tell him while handing over the reins. I watch his adam's apple bob and his eyebrows lift slightly before nodding and accepting the reins from my hand. When his fingers brush over mine, goosebumps run across my arm. Quickly, I pull my hand away and turn towards Beau, my stallion for today. Fiddling aimlessly with his bridle, I wait until the steps of Luna and Lando have disappeared before releasing a breath. Leaning my forehead against Beau’s neck, I sigh at my stupid behavior. Am I really so touch starved that I get goosebumps at my finger brushing against his? That’s sad.

I take Beau’s reins in my hand and start leading him out to the waiting pack of boys. Just as I’m about to exit the stables, I look over at Jupe. He’s looking at me like he knows exactly what’s going on in my mind.

“Don’t give me attitude,” I tell him.

He just blinks at me.

Beau and I join everyone. Wyatt’s running Mitchel through the basics while Lando watches on. He’s pretending to not be listening by petting Luna and quietly talking to her, but I still catch the way he glances over when Wy demonstrates something. I walk around and do a quick double check on everyone’s gear before returning to Beau’s side. With the ease of muscle memory that I don’t think I’ll ever lose, I toss myself up and onto the saddle. Wyatt assists Mitchel into his saddle before climbing into his own. Lando glances over at me before sliding his foot into the stirrup and attempting to pull himself up. He looks out of his depth and slightly awkward as he hauls himself onto the saddle seat. Biting back a laugh, I click my tongue and squeeze my legs a little to get Beau to move for me. The two of us saunter up next to Lando. His easy continence is long gone, replaced by nerves and uncertainty. His hands shake as he grabs onto the reins incorrectly.

“Here, like this,” I correct while reaching out to his hands. My fingers pry his anxious fists open and fix where he’s holding the leather cord. I’m surprised to find calluses littering his palms, a mirror of my own. I maneuver his palm to rest in the right way so he doesn’t agitate Luna. I can feel Lando watching me as I touch and hold his hands. I’ve done this a hundred times when teaching lessons, but this is the first time that I feel an uncomfortable blush creeping onto my cheeks. Lando’s presence has me off axis, spinning out of my routine. I’ve known him for maybe an hour and he’s already getting under my skin.

“Just trust Luna, she knows the way,” I say quietly as I pull away from him. He bites at his lip but nods along with my words. Smiling as warmly as I can, I leave his side to ride up to Wyatt. However, I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder at him. He’s not looking at me, thankfully. Instead, his eyes are trained on his hands as he flexes them on the reins the way I showed him. His focus is endearing, almost cute.

But when his eyes rise to find mine, I snap my head forward in hopes that he didn’t catch me staring at him. The last thing I need is to develop some sort of childish crush on a stranger that I’ll never see again after a few days. I just have to keep my head down and my thoughts off of him.

“Time’s wasting!” Wyatt calls to me, letting me know that everyone is ready to go. Nodding, I take the lead while Wyatt falls to the back. We keep Mitchel and Lando between us so they don’t get caught straying off the path.

Going out for a ride is one of my favorite things. I love going into the mountains, walking along the thin paths, and enjoying the earth. As we go, I hear Mitchel and Wyatt quietly chatting at the back of the pack. However, once we get to the treeline, their voices fall away from my earshot. My senses are overcome by our surroundings. The budding trees are gorgeous as they filter the sunlight into sultry beams that fall onto the new grass along the sides of the gravel path.

“Beautiful,” I hear Lando speak for the first time since we left. I’ve been distracted thankfully, leaving me free from his effect on me. Now, though, I find myself turning to the side to look at him as he comes up next to me. I’m surprised to find him staring at me instead of the lively forest that hems us in. A thought that he might be making a comment about me instead of the scenery flashes through my mind. Quickly, I shove the absurd thought away and chalk it up to wishful thinking.

“It is,” I agree, giving him a small smile. He chuckles a little before turning to look around him. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of him. Somehow he adds to the already perfect scene around me. His hair is being ruffled by the slight, cool breeze, which also lends his skin a gorgeous pink flush. Bright hazel eyes track the swishing branches and fluttering wildlife. His muscles are on display as he engages them to ride Luna. He looks less stiff than he did earlier, as if he’s finding himself at ease here. The idea makes me giddy. I find myself agreeing with Lando’s previous assessment. Beautiful.

“See something you like, cowgirl?” Lando laughs when he catches me staring at him yet again. My eyes go wide and my mouth parts as I scramble for a proper response, a defense, anything. There’s just something about him that makes it nearly impossible to look away. I think I’d like to be able to see him a lot more.

“Cowgirl?” Is all I can come up with. It’s not an inaccurate title, but the way he said it made it sound different. It was tacked onto his question almost like an endearment, or a tease. I laugh a little at his choice of words and the way it sounds in his accent.

“I see a lot of things I like, cowboy. You’ll have to be more specific,” I challenge. This successfully pulls a proper laugh from him. It’s the type of laugh that sends birds flying frantically from their perches and the creatures hidden in the grass scurrying away. It’s impossible to not laugh along with him. My heart flutters and I have to hold on tighter to my reins so I don’t fall off the saddle.

“I may be a lot of things, but I am no cowboy,” he corrects. I nod while continuing to laugh.

“I could have told you that,” I confirm while adjusting my hat.

“Oh really?” Lando says, urging me to explain myself. He tilts his head to the side while his mouth pulls into a closed lipped smile.

“If the brand new jeans and boots didn’t give you away, then you’re riding definitely does. You ride stiff as a board,” I inform him while glancing down at his boots and jeans. His denim clad thighs are tight around Luna’s middle, tense muscles visible through the fabric.

“Alright, teach me then,” he says, his free hand coming to rest on his hip. “Cowgirl.”

I roll my eyes at his words once again, but am resolved to help him nonetheless. There’s nothing like going out and being able to ride properly. I want to ask him why he lied to me about his experience with riding, but I don’t want to bruise his ego any further. Trying something new is challenging enough, and if he’s willing to learn, then I don’t want to jeopardize that.

“Keep sitting up straight, but relax your body. Your hips should shift back and forth in the seat a little. Don’t fight what feels natural. Just watch me,” I tell him. His eyes slide slowly from my face down to my hips. I watch as his eyes track my hips back and forth just slightly with Beau’s steps. Lando’s breathing goes uneven and his bottom lip disappears between his teeth. He’s staring at me like there’s nothing else he’d ever want to look at. It makes my heart race and nerves flutter in my stomach. I hadn’t really thought about the more sensual implications of having him watch my hips, but it seems rather obvious now. However, I don’t really mind the way he’s looking at me, or the way his focus is completely attuned to me. Selfishly, I really wish he wouldn’t look at anything else ever again. But that can’t happen.

“Eyes up, cowboy,” I tell him after a few more seconds of letting him watch. “Go ahead.”

Clearing his throat, he shifts a little in the saddle before settling in to do what I asked. I don’t miss the way he avoids looking me in the eye, as if he’s embarrassed. Have I flustered him? The thought makes me just a tiny bit proud. He doesn’t seem like the type to be flustered easily. He sits up straight and attempts to relax his body. His lower half starts to shift the right way, looking more natural and less jerky than before. Indulging myself, I watch for a few more seconds. I bite the inside of my cheek as he rocks back and forth in the saddle. My mind goes wandering to places that I shouldn’t be thinking about with a man I’ve only known for a day. Less than a day. And yet, I can’t stop myself.

“Maybe we’ll make a real cowboy out of you yet, Lando Norris,” I tell him after I’ve noticed improvements. His focus fractures and he looks over to me.

“I think I’d like that,” He shoots back, a sly smile accompanying his words. The look twists my stomach into nervous knots. There’s something about him, something intangible, that draws you in. Maybe it’s charm or charisma, or maybe it’s just the way he was made. Whatever the circumstances or reasons are, it’s not fair. I feel as though I have hardly a fighting chance to ward off any sort of desire that’s bubbling to the surface. I want to keep getting to know him; I want to teach him anything he asks; I want to never let go of the way he makes me feel.

The walk back to the ranch grounds is much faster than I would have liked. Lando chats with me the entire way back about this and that. He’s smart and funny and my chances of not having a crush on him grow slimmer with every passing minute I spend with him. When we get back to the stables, I find myself taking much longer than I normally would to put everything away. Mitchel and Wyatt decided that a fire would be the best way to end the night, so they ran out to get it started while Lando and I finished up with the horses. He tried his best to help, but kept getting distracted by visiting all of the stalls.

“Who’s this?” Lando says as I finish putting away the last saddle. I say a quick goodbye to Beau before heading down to the last stall near the open barn doors. Lando is standing in front of Jupe’s stall, his arms crossed over his chest. I stop next to him, leaving an appropriate amount of space between us, even though I want to come up right next to him and press my shoulder to his.

“This is Jupe. He’s our newest. Bit ornery, but a good boy,” I say while reaching my hand out to pat Jupe’s head. He brays at my touch, but doesn’t pull away. I give him a quick kiss on the nose and coddle him a little. Positive reinforcement does wonders.

“My turn,” Lando says from behind me. Astounded, I turn my face toward him. He’s insinuating that he wants me to kiss him. My brain short circuits at the thought. He’s just standing there with his arms still crossed over his chest and a stupid smile playing across his handsome face. I scoff at his joke, trying not to let on how much it affected me.

“Careful what you wish for, you might end up with a stall of your own,” I jab back. However, keeping him here doesn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“Being praised, kissed, and ridden by you? Sounds like these guys are living the dream,” Lando says. My jaw hangs loose as his words hit me like a freight train. Shock courses through me, leaving me beyond speechless. Is he being serious? Who says things like that? I blink at him, unsure of how to continue. I can’t lie and say that the images that popped into my head when he spoke were entirely unpleasant. If he’s being serious, there’s a lot to consider here. I could deny my feelings and spare myself the heartache. Or the alternative, which is letting my emotions get the better of me. This would mean that in a few days after spending time together, I would have to deal with heartbreak and come to terms with the fact that I’ll maybe never see him again. Or maybe I could, if there’s something really here. Maybe I have to give into hope for once. There’s never really been anyone who I’ve put ahead of my goals or dreams. I’ve never been tempted to stray from my path by anyone. Sure, I’ve gone out with guys, had a boyfriend for a while. But if something didn’t line up, I made cuts so my life would fit together how I needed it to. Suddenly now, as I stand here in this stable with a man I met only hours ago, I’m finding myself bending my rules for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my whole life.

“Alright, cowboy,” I say while taking a tentative step toward him, I’m ready to play this little game of his. His hands have fallen to his side, so I gently slide my fingers into his. Shining eyes lock onto mine. His tan skin is set aglow by the dying sunrise, highlighting the ridges and curves of his face. I want to memorize every freckle, every line, every corner of him. I’m lost in the way his hand feels around mine and in the way he’s looking at me, and I don’t ever want to find my way out. One of his fingers comes to the front of my hat and pushes the brim up. He draws closer now, his face mere inches from mine. His jaw flexes and his large neck muscles twitch with tension as he dips his head down just enough for his lips to hover over mine.

“We have a fire to get to,” I finish my earlier thought in a whisper. With hooded eyes, I look into his wide ones. Smiling smally, I step away from him. Adjusting my hat back to its original place, I begin walking out the door. Lando is hauled after me with my hand still grasped in his. Giddiness takes me over as I walk hand in hand with him towards the fire pit near the house. My small smile breaks into a much larger one as I pick up my pace, breaking into a jog. Lando’s hand clasps around mine tighter as he adjusts to the new pace. A laugh bubbles from my chest as I bring my free hand to hold onto my hat as I run harder. A sense of carefreeness has corrupted my usual serious disposition. Rarely do I feel as free as I do now. Lando’s lightness has infected me, and I can’t help but fall in love with how it’s buoyed my spirits. It feels like the first hit of a drug; it’s the type of high I’ll be chasing for the rest of my life.

As we approach the house, I can hear Wyatt’s laugh ring out from around the corner to the back. Just as we’re about to turn that last corner, Lando’s arms reach around my waist, stopping me from moving another inch. His chest hits my back with no small amount of force, tossing my hat from my head. I’m bent over in his arms as both of our laughs pull the last threads of air from our tired lungs. He hauls us both upright and my head falls back against his shoulder. I suck in a deep breath of the cool, dusk air. It cools me from the inside out. A feeling stirs deep in my stomach as I stare up into the sky while basking in the feeling of Lando’s arms wrapped around me.

Belonging.

It’s something I’ve been chasing my whole life; a sense of knowing where I belong and who I am. And now I feel as though I’ve finally found it: a home; a place to belong; a knowledge of exactly who I am.

Once we’ve regulated our breathing, I break out of his arms. Leaving them isn’t what I want, and as I pull away, I immediately feel much colder. However, we have to accompany Wyatt and Mitchel before they grow suspicious. Carefully, I pick up my hat, but don’t place it back on my head.

“Are you coming?” I ask quickly, tossing a glance to Lando over my shoulder. He shakes his head with a smile, but follows me around the corner without a word. Wyatt’s eyes find us over the roaring fire he’s built. Mitchel is seated right next to him on a log, a thick blanket spread over their laps. Between the warmth of the fire, the blanket, and the present company, I know that the nighttime chill won’t be able to touch me. As I approach Wyatt, he reaches to the side to pick up another blanket with a couple beers and s’mores supplies stacked on top. I accept it with a quick thank you before plopping down on the log next to them. Lando saunters after me, slowly taking a seat to my right.

“Hold this?” I ask while placing the blanket onto his lap. Gently, I set my hat down behind me, then reach over my shoulder to grab the end of my braid. I pull the elastic from the end and go about undoing the braid.

“So, Lando, how was the ride for you?” Wy asks as he brings his beer to his lips. My eyes are on the fire as he speaks, my mind slipping out of focus for a brief moment while I concentrate on my hair. But I’m aware of the fact that Lando doesn’t answer. When I turn to look at him, I find his eyes already on me, following my fingers as they finish pulling out my braid. I run my fingers through my roots to shake out the nasty hat hair that I undoubtedly have.

“Lando?” Wyatt laughs.

“What?” Lando says as he snaps out of his dazed state. His eyes go wide as they shift over to Wyatt who’s chuckling to himself. A goofy smile breaks across Lando’s face as Wyatt restates his question.

“I think I might have to switch professions,” Lando says, his eyes flicking down to me. The fire is lighting his skin with a warm glow. The flames flash lazily in his glossy eyes.

“I think it would be best for you to stick with McLaren,” I joke while cracking both of our cold beers. With a small smile, I hand over one of the bottles to a slightly offended Lando. Laughing to myself, I nudge his shoulder and click the neck of my beer to his. The liquid is cold and fresh against my lips, sending the perfect chill cascading down into my neck and chest.

“Yeah, mate, I think it’s best if you stay in the cockpit rather than the saddle,” Mitchel adds. “Play to your strengths and all that.”

The cockpit? As in the cockpit of a Formula One car? The realization hits me with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Lando Norris; I recognized his name earlier because Wyatt works as an engineer for a driver named Lando Norris. A Formula One driver named Lando Norris. With wide eyes, I stare forward into the fire. Every possibility that I’ve just dreamt up has suddenly become nothing but a fantasy. My body tenses as it physically revolts against my idiocy and naivety. Reality settles into my bones and I have to chide myself for being so stupid to ignore it for as long as I have. Not only did I ignore it, but I created a work of fiction where maybe we could end up together.

“Shit,” I hear Lando breathe next to me. His face is one I don’t recognize, one of seriousness. For the few hours that I’ve known him, which feel more like years, I haven’t seen him lose that little spark that makes him so him. Now it’s nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want me to know that he was a professional driver, one of the most elite in the whole world. It stings because I don’t understand exactly what his intentions were and it allowed me the space to concoct some seriously messed up notions. There’s no way that anything could happen between us now. It’s hard enough to maintain a friendship of years over an ocean with an engineer; imagine trying to hold together a relationship with a driver across continents and seas that constantly change. However, I can’t justify being angry with him. It is his life to be in the public eye constantly. If he came out here to not be recognized for a while and to be treated like just a normal guy, then who am I to deny him that. I just wish he would have given me the opportunity to do that with knowing who he really is. Now I’m stuck with feelings that I know won’t go away in a hurry and thorough embarrassment.

The rest of the night passes monotonously. Wyatt and Mitchel are wrapped up into their own little world, so they hardly notice the ever eroding gap that suddenly formed between Lando and I. We chat a little, but it’s not the same anymore. Roasting marshmallows has suddenly become my new favorite thing because it gives me an excuse to not look at him. I know that if I do, I’ll start to adore his curly hair and the scar over the bridge of his nose and the way that he looks right into your soul with his pretty eyes. I know that if I dare to look at him, I’ll start to believe in fiction once again. That’s not something I can allow; I won’t be the person who falls in love with the idea of something they can never have.

I won’t be the person that falls for someone they can never have.

Wyatt and Mitchel bid us goodnight before walking hand in hand into the house. Envy flares in my chest, jealousy turning my heart an ugly shade of green. The crackling of the dying fire and the rustling of wind through the grass and trees are the only things that greet my ears. Usually, I would be incredibly fond of this quietness. But now, it simply feels like a life sentence of silence. And once again, as the world turns to night, I feel the loneliness creep in at the edges. The night chill has crept into my fingers and toes, slowly creeping inward.

“I’m sorry,” Lando’s voice is gravelly from lack of use. “I should have…”

“You should have,” I agree. My voice isn’t harsh or condescending, it’s soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I understand, though. I just wish I had known before…”

My voice trails off and gets blown away with the smoke that floats lazily into the atmosphere. Clouds have collected across the sky, cutting the stars from our view. With a melancholy heart, I can’t help but admit how fitting that is. I suppose we really weren’t written in the stars. We are the opposite of destined.

Lando’s hand wraps around my cold fingers, but instead of warming me, it burns. The kiss he leaves on my knuckles feels as though my hand was dipped into the embers of a fire. Blinking back the prick in my eyes from impending tears, I watch his face fall into a frown. I hate the way his eyebrows are creased in the middle and the concern that’s painfully evident in his stubborn eyes. It’s not the look I wanted from him tonight. It’s not the face that’s become my brand new favorite. It’s not Lando.

“How long are you staying for?” I find myself asking. I have to know how long I’ll have to endure his presence. But what’s worse: having him here and knowing I can’t have him, or watching him leave and knowing that I’ll never have him?

“We leave on Monday,” he says. Just for the weekend then. I’ll only have to see him on Monday and then I’ll be free of him. I know he’ll torment me in my sleep, when I see someone walking down the street who looks a little like him, when I look at Luna. I’ll never truly escape him.

“Alright,” I mumble. A beat passes without any more conversation. Then Lando’s hand is slipping under my hair and around the side of my neck. My head turns toward him, his touch unprompted and sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.

“I’m sorry, but I have to know. Just once and then we can put it away forever. Alright?” He’s closing that gap between us, both physically and emotionally. His face slows as it hovers in front of mine. My breathing has ceased and fear has seized my heart. Is this the right thing to do? Or will it make it worse?

“Alright,” I find myself agreeing without thinking. Maybe I have to know, too, if this is everything I think it is; if this really is everything that I’m losing.

His kiss is light at first, lips just barely brushing mine. It’s soft and gentle as he uses his hand to bring my face closer to his. When his lips are fully on mine, my mind bursts into stars and streams of color. He kisses me with quiet passion, slow and strong. That belonging that I felt when he had his arms around me flares back to life in my chest. His fingers flex under my jaw, holding onto me tighter like he’s scared I’ll slip out of his grip. Which I am. When we break away from our first and last kiss, I feel as we filter through each other’s fingertips. We’re lost now, never to be found.

A crack in my chest sends me to my feet. Tears suddenly blur my vision.

“Goodbye, Lando,” I find myself saying, my words taking every bit of strength I have left. As I turn away from him for the last time, I find myself wishing I'd have said no to his kiss. As I walk away from him for the last time, I know now that I’m losing the one real thing I’ve ever known.

The truth is he isn’t a cowboy like me.

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tax-ed-ea-taxus · 7 days ago

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Superbat fic ideas

clark is the reluctant one and bruce wants to move fast, they've been working together for however long and bruce realizes he's been in love with clark and wants to dive head first into an official relationship, clark doesn't want to ruin the friendship or get in the way of superhero business or affect the kids and his relationship with them yada yada

Batfam assumes clark and bruce are together and married (dick makes this assumption, calls clark uncle clark and bruce and clark never correct him or think anything of it) shenanigans/misunderstandings ensue

superbat quiet uptown inspired, “if i could spare his life, if i could trade his life for mine, he'd be standing here right now and you would smile and that would be enough” clark feeling guilty about being off world when jay dies/bruce projecting blame onto clark since he feels guilty for jason dying (canon-divergent? idk what clarks involvement or where his was during jays death is)

COWBOY CLARK KENT or farmer or ranch hand or whatever they do in Kansas but Clark needs to be in the getup. No capes au? If ANYTHING Clark at least needs a pretty belt buckle so Bruce can lick it and grind on it. trans bruce bc duh

last five years au (can you tell i really like musicals?)

the kents fucking hate bruce? he's trying his hardest to appeal to them but he doesn't have a lot of practice with impressing partners parents (Ra's was impressed with him being an excellent fighter and socialites are impressed by his money and looks) he especially doesn't have experience impressing people as bruce. but they straight up Hate him and think clark should break up with him (they dont say it outright) and i think clark should notice and be upset with his parents about it. i want premium honest to god angst about the kents not liking bruce for whatever reasons and it putting a strain their relationship with clark and causes bruce to be more distant with clark to make his parents happy and in his mind fix their relationship. happy ending ig with the kents and bruce coming to an understanding but mayhaps bruce still feels like they're only being nice for clarks sake

#superbat #bruce wayne #clark kent #fic ideas #batfam #the kents #ed speaks #the 7th secret idea/prompt is just them fucking Nasty Style that different from the cowboy!clark one

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voidsturn · 1 month ago

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title: cowboy like me

pairing: crime syndicate!matt x undercover agent!reader

plot: matt, feeling betrayed by the one girl he loved, struggles with heartbreak and rage after her role in an ambush nearly destroys his family. she insists it was for the protection of his father, but matt’s trust wavers between eggshell-like hope and total loss. can they put aside their ‘differences’ and hopefully not kill each other?

trope: angst?? (i swear it started off as one), maybe hurt/comfort??, betrayal trope, forced proximity, lovers to enemies, open ending

warnings: words and mentions related to firearms and death. this is such weird timing, (matts slightly aggressive in this one folks) due the shit show caused by the recent friday video.

author’s note: ‘and the skeletons, in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up…’

also credits to anyone who has ever done anything like this. if anyone wants me to tag them, i’m fully ready to do so cause its a rlly fun pairing tbh

matt - blue | reader - pink | chris - orange | nick - purple

matt didn't have much time left. barely one half hour, before the other side would bust through the mindfully constructed door of his ‘abandoned’ cabin, in the middle of the woods. matt’s mind was scrambling more than his wounded figure. scrambling for answers while his tired and injured body hurriedly searched for guns. matt knew this would happen. trusting a girl that reminded him of himself before ‘everything’ was like knowingly falling into a bear trap. just like how the bear trap suspends it’s target in air for the entire world to judge, matt felt the same. ashamed, vulnerable and filled to the brim with pure, unadulterated rage.

matt heard his heartbeat in his goddamn head. on the verge of either passing out or drowning in a pool of his own tears, he didn't know what to choose. his pride, but most importantly his trust was just left shattered. like a few thousand, tiny pieces of an expensive glass someone purposely broke. he finally chose the latter. completely spent, matt tiredly slunk down the hardwood wall of his bedroom.

choosing to cry was easier said than done. in reality, he felt shell-shocked. replaying the last hour of one of the worst days of his life, thus carved the path for fresh, hot tears to stream down matts battered up face. the engagement was supposed to be a new beginning. it was the happiest the sturniolo family has been in years.

matt remembered his brothers. the stark difference between before and after was depressing to watch. nick was beaming. he was so happy, he finally found the love of his life and nick finally made him his. aaron, nick’s fiancé, along with nick, were decked with brown and grey suits respectively. the newly engaged couple’s childlike grins, were enough to make the saddest one in the world crack a smile. the engagement hall was big enough to fit a few hundred people, yet only the nearest and dearest to the sturniolos were present. them coupled with a few dozen guards made it seventy.

chris and matt were so stupidly happy for their beloved older brother. they kept teasing and lightly punching nick, who was getting more annoyed by the minute. after witnessing the beautiful engagement, all matt could think about was his own future with y/n. she was rough at the edges, but adored cats.

he still remembered the first time she finally smiled at him. it was after matt managed to save a stray kitten from a tree. after seeing her in that light, he made it his life’s mission to make her his. he had fallen in love and was going to tell her once she came back from the bathroom.

”chris y’know where y/n might be? i’m getting worried.” his hard headed brother was finally whipped, chris thought in his head.

thought in his head cause he was in no mood to get smacked by matt. “bro, y’need to calm the fuck down. she’ll be here.”

as if on cue, a door bust wide open. it wasn’t the bathroom door but the main door. it all happened so fucking fast. too damn fast. the horrifying sound of bullets and screams, echoed throughout the hall. the guards ate most of the bullets for dinner while some of the family got shot, a few at very critical places. the main guard, along with others, managed to whisk only nick and mark along with their parents and other cousins to safety.

chris and matt had already run off into the storage closet of the hall where chris thought a few guards were. alas, they were met with two dead and one fatally injured. they had no time to say their goodbyes while taking the nearly empty mags of three shotguns.

sounds of the huge glass chandelier falling gave the two triplets time to escape that they desperately needed. once the gunshots outside stopped, matt and chris made their getaway on some guards bike. matt and chris had been shot. grazed thankfully just on their arms and abdomen. thank the gods the other side had a couple bad shots, or the two would be bleeding to their deaths right now.

“how the fuck did they know where we were?! no one other than the people inside knew about this!” screamed chris while speeding on the bike, away from the worst ambush ever seen. matt screamed back. “i don’t fucking know! your dumbass probably told one of the girls you fucked! hang on i’m getting a call!”

“i might be dumb but i’m not a fucking idiot! i can’t fucking believe you would-” “shut up chris i can’t hear anything!” the ambush might’ve had some bad shots, but nicks phone call was a shot through the heart for matt.

nick was screaming on the other line. “your fucking girlfriend works for them! i barely saw them talking to her while i was fucking getting shot at!”

matt’s short boat ride, trip down a stormy memory river, was harshly interrupted by yelling. someone familiar was calling out his name. it didn’t create butterflies everywhere in matt’s body. not anymore. it was replaced by the urge to shoot her dead.

downstairs, y/n was yelling as if these words were the last to escape her mouth. “matt! i know you’re here! please just let me explain!” she cried, hoping it wasn’t too late. but it was. she turned around and found herself face to face with matt. y/n’s teary eyes met matt’s cold, bloodshot ones. the tension in the woody cabin was bone chilling. matt’s right hand was occupied by a pistol, aimed point-blank at y/n.

“matt-”

“just shut up y/n! just fucking shut up!” matt's loud voice boomed throughout the small living room of the two floor cabin. “i can’t fucking believe you would do this to me! i’m gonna fucking kill you!” even after saying all this, matt’s shaking hands and voice betrayed him. he didn’t really want to kill y/n, but she was the reason his entire family almost died this evening.

“matt if you could just please let me explain-”

“fuck you y/n. i’m not gonna give you time to get out of this. i fucking trusted you with my life, even if nick and chris told me not to. i knew something was up but i didn’t care. goddamnit, i fucking loved you. so much. i would’ve done anything for you-” matts tears started running their previous course on his face, yet again.

“please don’t kill me matt. just please hear me out-” y/n was terrified. she wanted to explain but she knew she really fucked up. matt was probably going to be the last one to see her… alive.

matt had had enough. he walked towards y/n and pushed her against a wall. he turned off the safety of his gun and forced it into y/n’s temple, while his left forearm was pushed against her neck, just enough to bruise. y/n didn’t fight back. “y’ wanna explain then fuckin’ explain. and do it quick cause i’m in no fuckin’ mood to ever listen to you… ever again!” with a shaky voice, y/n began her reasoning.

“i was ordered to investigate your family. your now broken relationship with the changrettas put you in a tough spot with the immunity that was granted after your father agreed to testify in that sealed murder hearing. uhm-” y/n was worried she was going to get killed for even mentioning matt’s dear father when matt was quick to push the gun further into her side to her head, all while pushing his forearm deeper into y/n’s neck, choking her. “keep going… y’fucking traitor.”

“matt- please i- can’t… breathe…” matt didn’t realise how strong of a grip he had on her neck and loosened it cause he just had to listen to her. such strong love for someone sadly can’t just vaporise no matter how much they’ve hurt them. for matt whose love was hard to come by, things just made it worse… more intense for him. he was getting contradicted by the entire fucking universe. it was becoming too much for someone even as dangerous as him.

y/n deeply inhaled and continued, trying to look anywhere except at matt’s death stare at her. “my agency sent two people undercover into the changretta family and managed to kil- uhm… eliminate or arrest them. we were going to arrest your father because he- i…” matt let out a dry chuckle, “and you told them the best time to get my dad, was the day nick gets engaged-”

y/n knew this was coming. “it wasn’t personal matt-”

“i’m so fucking done with you y/n. you’re the worst fucking bitch i’ve ever met my entire life…”

“there’s a fucking reason you dick!”

all this did was piss off matt even more. he punched the wall right next to y/n’s head out of pure agony, but she didn’t flinch. not one bit. she’s seen way worse than some pissed off guy. but this was matt, who was still her one epic love, even if it wasn’t reciprocated anymore. she was worried cause he might never trust her ever again, but she still does. that’s why she came to him completely unarmed.

matt was so overwhelmed by everything. he was just so fucking tired at this point. he never thought things would turn out the way they did. so he did the one thing he never thought he would do. he threw his pistol away from them and let go of y/n. her fucked up hair, the gun head shaped dent on her temple, and the bruise on y/n neck, piled feelings of shame on matt’s overbearing load of emotions. the dried up tears on matts face were immediately replaced with fresh ones.

he yet again, slunk down on the brown couch and supported his heavy head with shaky hands. y/n was just as tired. tired of herself. she knew she’d crossed a huge line, even if it was with the purest of intentions. seeing the sight of her everything in tears all because of her, made y/n want to hug him and kiss him and tell him that everything was gonna be okay.

she sat next to matt and continued her explanation because he needed to hear it.

“i did all this to protect your dad, matt. the two people who went undercover with the changrettas caught wind of some plan to kill your dad after his testimony… and i couldn’t let that happen. so instead, we replaced some of your guards with our people, over a few weeks so you wouldn’t get too suspicious. then we moved to make contact today only cause nick had told me, he and mark were planning to go on a vacation right after the engagement. right now your dad, mom, nick and justin are under custody but they’re safe. the immunity is granted and since your father is always privy to important information, the agency is protecting him. i have no idea where chris is. last we saw him was with you. i followed you and i sent two others to find him. and now-”

“why couldn’t you tell me y/n? i could’ve helped you-” asked matt. he was still in two minds but the mind that believed in her, overpowered his now weak reasons to kill her. “no you couldn’t have matt. i could’ve told you… any step of the way and all that would’ve done is overcomplicate things. no one if your family could know… mainly cause we believe there’s a mole in your organisation-”

“there’s no fuckin’ mole. i trust those people with my life-”

“just like you trusted me?”

“i’m sorry y/n but what i saw and how i got to know about you… i don’t know if i can believe in you. i’m just so fuckin’ tired and all i’m thinking is how the fuck am i just supposed to take your word for it…”

y/n let out a quiet sigh. “i dunno. i’m in charge to get you safely to our headquarters. but, i can’t let you outta my sight until i get to know chris’ whereabouts. and… i'm pretty sure y’know where he is. ”

“what if you’re fuckin’ tricking me into telling you where chris is?” after so long, matt actually looked at y/n. she was making a phone call. “give the phone to jimmy. the second triplet needs confirmation they’re all safe. here matt.” y/n said while giving her phone to him.

“dad?! please tell me you’re okay!” matt heard the code his father said. only they knew about this phrase. this proved to matt that it was actually his dad. after a minute long conversation, matt gave the phone back to y/n.

“no ma’am, i don’t know where he is. but i will bring both of them safely to the headquarters… yes even if that’s… the last thing i do. thank you ma’am.” y/n said before cutting the encrypted call.

“what do you mean even if it’s the last thing you do?” even after everything matt definitely did not want y/n to die. he still loved her but the trust would take some time. “it’s nothing…” she said, moments before y/n heard the noise of tires screeching on the dirt road of the forest. she was quick to instruct matt.

“stay behind me.”

he walked towards where matt threw his gun and gave it to her. “how’d you know i didn't have a gun?”

matt genuinely chuckled for the first time since this fucked up day. “y’might’ve fooled me, but i still know how to read people jus’ by looking into their eyes. and i definitely know your eyes, sweetheart…”

just before y/n could retort, the door of the cabin slammed open, to reveal a wildly shocked chris, looking at his beloved brother and the girl who was the reason he was on a wild goose chase for the past hour.

”chris, lemme explain…”

”you fucking psycho-”

author’s note 2: i would rlly appreciate any sort of comments (not straight up hate) so as to improve my writing skills and everyone’s reading experience! :) hope u liked it! also happy new years in advance!!!

#matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo angst #sturniolo au #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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averagewriter-inthedark · 8 months ago

Text

It’s Been A Long, Long Time 🥀 P.2 | Fallout AU

Masterlists | Part 1

Characters & Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x super soldier!reader (eventual romance), reader x male!oc (past romance), reader x Chester Phillips (past romance), Lucy Maclean (platonic)

Content warnings: Fallout x Marvel AU, profanity, major angst, fighting mentions of death, violence, war, age gap (reader is physically in her 40s, Cooper in his 50s, but they are both hundreds of years old), detailed description of a panic attack, cannon divergence, suggestive themes, strangers/enemies-to-friends-to-lovers | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6.7k

Premise: Having stumbled into an abandoned bunker that belonged to an agency dating back to the Second World War, Cooper and Lucy find themselves face-to-face with a woman of historical significance after accidently defrosting her cryogenic state. And when the horrifying truth is revealed, Cooper and Lucy rely on their expertise to combat a super soldier from killing them before the day is over.

Note: yeah this was intense and just full of angst I'm sorry, I promise in the next one there will be fluff!

-----------------------------------------

“Who the hell are you people?”

What exactly does one do when faced with a 345-year-old super soldier from World War II awakens from their frozen slumber. Face the truth? Or make a run for it? Honestly the pair were not sure.

It was as if they were in the arctic circle with how the temperature dropped to below zero at that very moment. The silence so thick a knife could cut through. Suffocating to the point Lucy swallowed her saliva quite loudly just to break it. Her stance frozen under the now conscious super soldier’s gaze. A scrutinizing one enough to have even the strongest men running for the hills.

Cooper had yet to rise from the chair, keeping a steady hand over his pistol while his back remained towards their guest. Although he felt her eyes on the back of his head, penetrating his skull.

“Do not make me ask again,” Behind her strong Trans-Atlantic accent--sounding the exact same as it did on the tapes--Y/n’s tone was a mix of fear and anger. Lucy felt the chills run down her spine. “Who. Are. You?”

Lucy peered to Cooper, whose expression read, ‘answer her’. Clearing her throat, Lucy attempted to introduce herself but it all came out as a stutter. “Uhh-um, hello!” she winced, noticing Y/n take a more defensive stance, eyeing her appearance. “My name is Lucy--Lucy MacLean. And this is my….associate, Cooper Howard,” her hand lifted up, gesturing to Cooper who gave her an annoyed look, Y/n watching each move intently. She had yet to see the cowboy’s face. “We’re so sorry for waking you up! We came across this bunker and--.”

“MacLean,” Cooper warned, shutting Lucy up. The girl put her hand down and bit her lip, “Um, we are….we--.” This time Y/n cut her off.

“Where’s Peggy?” Her eyes searched the room, face paling as it hit her where she was. “And Chester? Howard….I need--I need to find them. I need to warn them!” She made a move to run and that’s when Cooper rose from his chair, pistol in hand and spinning to face the super soldier for the first time.

It was like Y/n had stepped out of the TV. Donned in her black suit, the image of an eagle splayed across her chest. Shiny plates of metal on her arms that reflected light. Tactical boots and artillery belt, though she lacked any weapons. Whoever placed her in the pod must’ve stripped her of any means to defend herself if she woke.

Like she’d really need a gun or knife. Her best weapon was the serum coursing through her veins.

And unfortunately, Cooper was about to experience that.

The second their eyes met Y/n’s reaction was full of horror. But not for the reason Cooper believed, no. Poor Cooper was being mistaken for an old enemy, which unlucky for him, he resembled quite closely. Except he lacked the color red.

In a flash the desk was lifted off the ground, flinging in Cooper’s direction causing him to duck and cover while it met the chair. Lucy shrieked, hand cupping her mouth as the loud sound echoed off the walls. Y/n made a break for it then, running while Cooper hauled himself up to follow.

“Cooper, wait--!”

As he entered the long and dim hallway Cooper raced toward the end where the main lobby was. He hadn’t heard the elevator shaft open, nor the echoing sound of it ascending to the surface, prompting the cowboy to draw his pistol. Coming to a halt, Cooper shifted his approach by deciding to slowly inch his way to the lobby. Believing Y/n lying in wait for another attack. So each time he got to a room Cooper staked it out. Clearing it before moving to the next.

Lucy struggled to keep her cool, breathing heavily as she trailed closely behind Cooper. Aiming her tranquilizer gun in hopes of immobilizing Y/n but worried it’d do nothing like it did the Ghoul. Maybe it’ll at least slow her down. Giving them the chance to explain so she won’t kill them.

As each room cleared Cooper’s grip tightened. Betting Y/n was waiting for him in the lobby. And right he was.

The second his body was in view, Y/n shot out from the side giving no time for Cooper to react. Gun kicked from his hand, Cooper grunted as he was pushed into the wall, a crack in the drywall from the impact. Shoving Y/n off rather harshly, she stumbled back but recovered in time to dodge Cooper’s fist. Shooting her hand out to grab and redirect his arm, maneuvering her body behind his to kick the back of his knees and bring him to the floor.

‘Damn that super soldier serum was no joke,’ Coop couldn’t help but think. Arm raising to dodge another attack before extending his foot to kick Y/n in the gut.

“Please, if we can just explain!” Lucy shouted, pointing her gun frantically to get a clear shot, but struggled with how fast they were moving. Not wanting to accidentally hit Cooper and waste the drugs. “We only want to help you!”

They fought for what felt like hours but really it was less than five minutes. The adrenaline high, both soldiers feeding off each other. Cooper’s hat flying off, Y/n’s styled hair losing its curl. Creating a wild mane around her shoulders. Lucy was almost mesmerized. Their moves are sharp and quick, inflicting damage on the other and not holding back. Y/n was fast, giving Cooper no time to breathe as she laid punch after punch and kicks. Cooper was more robust, attempting to slow her down by constantly throwing her into a wall or onto furniture. They were in a deadly dance, two former soldiers

Lucy’s jaw dropped as Cooper was brought to the floor when Y/n attacked him from behind, hooking her legs over his head and switching her upper body from under his right side to his left side in which she unhooked her legs and flipped him onto his back. So fast it competed with the speed of light. “Holy moly!”

“Fuck,” Cooper coughed, wide-eyed as he looked up to Y/n barely breaking a sweat. A chill down his spine by the fury behind her gaze. He recognized it, recalling the time he fought the Reds in Alaska. She no longer was a woman in front of him, but a soldier.

He braced himself for her next attack, but before she could unleash it the soldier let out an ‘ah!’, glancing over to find a tranq lodged into her shoulder blade.

“Clever girl,” Y/n yanked it out, but the damage was done. The vial emptied the drug into her bloodstream, already beginning to take effect. Y/n stumbled, leaning onto the wall closest to her for support. “Hate to tell you though, that won’t knock me out.” her words slurred, making her appear in a drunken state.

Cooper sat up, catching his breath as he eyed her, “But it’ll sure as hell slow ya down.” Grunting, he brought himself to his knees, using the broken desk to lift the rest of his body up. He was sore, and in desperate need of a drink. Limping to recover his hat and gun, keeping the weapon in his hand. Although he knew he wouldn’t need to use it. Y/n was incapacitated, wobbling with each step and having to hold onto the wall or filing cabinet to keep steady.

“You….” she slurred, eyes dazy as she squinted at Cooper. “The Red….Skull.”

“I beg yer’ pardon?” he exhaled, staring back with confusion. Did she just call him the Red Skull? He picked at his brain for any recollection of that name. Siphoning through his days in basic and the countless files they racked through. “I have no idea who you’re talkin’ bout.”

“I do!” Lucy shouted, stepping closer to the two who were now several feet apart instead of lollygagging by the entrance of the hall. “I saw the file earlier--the Red Skull, you say?” Y/n nodded, willing herself to find the strength and hope the serum was close to wearing off the drug. “The Red Skull was the leader of Hydra. Who you fought against in the war, correct.” Again she nodded and Lucy realized what the soldier was likely thinking. Letting out a gasp as she raced to where she had discarded the file and opened it to reveal the picture of the man in question.

Removing it from the paper clip, Lucy held it up, “This man,” she pointed with her free hand first, then to Cooper, “this is who you think he is.” Based on the photo, Lucy understood why the soldier mistook the man as the one she once spent years fighting. The most striking detail being they both had withered skin and lacked a nose. Lucy remembered in her history books the Red Skull got his name due to his blood red complexion. A result of injecting himself with the first attempt at the super soldier serum, unaware of what effects it would have.

But the Red Skull vanished the same day as Steve Rogers. No records indicating where he went. Decades without any new leads and so Shield labeled him to be dead or in hiding.

The way Y/n’s eyes darted from the photo to Cooper confirmed Lucy’s suspicions. Along with how her face shifted to disdain and then to confusion. Like she too was starting to question her judgment.

Lucy passed the photo to Cooper, then lifted her hand to Y/n to show she meant no harm. “He’s not the Red Skull,” her voice was gentle, like when one speaks to a child, but also guarded. “I swear to you, Dr. Andrews, this man is not who you think he is. Yes, they look alike--which is an unfortunate coincidence,” Lucy nervously chuckled, aware of Cooper’s glare, “but I can assure you he is not him.”

Y/n didn’t look convinced. “If he’s not the Red Skull, then why--why does he look like him? What is he?”

Lucy shifted her stance, scratching the back of her neck and giving Cooper an apologetic look. “He’s what you would call a ghoul.”

“A ghoul,” the word was foreign to the soldier, prompting her to ask, “What the hell is a ghoul.” This time Cooper was the one to answer.

“I’m your future, Birdie,” the nickname was obviously in reference to her superhero alias, the Eagle. “Once you track that wasteland full of radiation you know so much about, you’ll be just like me if you give it time.”

Y/n’s blood froze, a horrible feeling igniting in her stomach, “What are you talking about?” Wasteland? Radiation? Immediately her mind went to what America was dealing with their former ally turned opponent.

The Arms Race, did it happen? How much did she miss? Oh God, her family…..

Lucy’s face fell, “Ma’am, there’s something you need to know--.”

“Vaultie….”

“You’re the one who said something!” she pointed out, causing him to roll his eyes. “We need to tell her, Cooper, it’s the right thing to do!” she defended, pleading with him as she gestured to Y/n’s state. “We can’t just leave her here, and if she goes to the surface she’ll be clueless.”

“It’s not our problem, MacLean,” his words were sharp. Holstering the pistol before adjusting his duster, ignoring Lucy’s appalled expression. “Better we leave her here and figure it out for herself. Not like she can help us with where wer’ goin’.”

Scoffing, Lucy narrowed her eyes. Disgusted with his apathy and lack of consideration for Y/n’s situation. “Put yourself in her shoes, Cooper. Also in case you forgot, we woke her up. We can at least give her the respect she deserves, by telling her what happened.” Before he could reply, Y/n beat him to it.

“What do you…you mean--what happened?” her tone was still jumbled, jaw tightened and gripping the edge of the desk like her life depended on it. After what Cooper said and Lucy’s implication, Y/n feared the worst. She was slowly coming to, blurred vision starting to clear. “Where’s Chester…take me to him, now!”

Cooper glanced at Lucy, begging him with her eyes, and he let out a gumbled sigh. Pushing a chair, not destroyed in their tossle, in Y/n’s direction, “Better for ya to take a seat, Birdie.” A moment passed, Y/n eyeing the chair before yanking it back and falling into it.

“Start talking. I won’t ask a second time. Whatever drug you stunned me with won’t last long and I demand to know what’s going on.”

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Cooper turned to Lucy, “Well, valutie, you wanna do the honors. Or have me rip the band-aid off--and It won’t be gentle I can tell ya that.”

Biting her lip, Lucy felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she gathered her words. “Ma’am, Dr. Andrews,” she corrected, nodding her head in respect. “What is the last thing you remember?” Upon Cooper’s reaction to the question, Lucy panned him a look reading, ‘Trust me.’

Y/n’s eyebrows narrowed, blinking twice before answering, “I was in the computer room. Trying to find evidence that Zola--.” She cut herself off, swallowing. Remembering these were strangers and were working for God knows who. “I won’t say another word until I know who exactly you two are. Or you tell me where Peggy and Chester are!!”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Cooper tipped his hat up, ignoring Lucy’s warning.

“Cooper, please--.”

“Look, there’s no easy way of sayin’ it and frankly we don’t got the fuckin’ time to waste. So I’ll keep it simple by asking you this instead; What year do you think it is, Doctor?”

“1951,” there was no hesitation. Spoken with confidence.

Lucy let out a choked sound, and Cooper rubbed his jaw. Preparing himself to give the harsh truth, and worried of what outcome laid ahead. Meanwhile Y/n took in their reactions, causing anxiety to rise as she began to feel the air shift. Something wasn’t right, her intuition screamed at her.

“What?” she demanded. “How long--how long was I out?”

Cooper dropped his head, unable to meet her eyes, “Y/n, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” bad was putting it lightly, “but you’ve been asleep for 345 years.”

The only noise that followed the revelation was Y/n’s sharp inhale. Like all the air had been sucked out of her, and she was now drowning by the way her lungs tightened. Throat closing, head spinning as it processed what Cooper said.

345 years….

A piercing sound filled her ears, while any other noise turned muffled. “What?” Voice cracking, Y/n shook her head in denial. Refusing to accept it. “No. No, you’re lying to me. You--you’re Hydra and trying to manipulate me.”

“We’re not Hydra, Y/n,” Cooper’s gentle tone shocked even him. But he couldn’t help it for he felt sorry for the woman. Not wanting to imagine what was running through her head.

Her denial turned to anger, “I don’t believe you! It can’t be--I couldn’t have been asleep for three centuries,” her voice cracked again, the emotion billing up in her throat. “That is not possible!” She stood up hastily, but the drugs had yet to wear off and so she lost her balance, the room spinning and fell back into the chair with a grunt.

Lucy made a move to help her but was stopped by Cooper. Pushing her to the side while he approached Y/n, kneeling so he was level. “I know this is hard, and I reckon you gonna be angry for God knows how long,” he leaned closer to her, noting how white her knuckles were from gripping the armrest.

“Stop it--.”

“But it’s the cold, hard truth.”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“It’s 2296!” He stunned her into silence, another choked gasp leaving her. Y/n’s mouth agape, staring at him with devastation, and Cooper let out a tired sigh. “Whoever put ya in that pod is long gone. The people you’re asking for,” he referred to Peggy, Howard, and Chester, “ther’ long gone too. Everyone you know has been dead for centuries, Y/n,” a pained whimper escaped, the soldier starting to break. Cooper went on, voice lowering, “You’ve awoken to a whole new world, Doc. One you ain’t gonna fuckin’ like at all, but it’s ya new reality. 1951,” he paused before giving the final blow, “was a lifetime ago.”

Y/n’s bottom lip quivered, water filling her vision as she fought to keep the tears at bay while the words sank in. She’d always been good at reading people. Picking up body language and cues to tell when one’s lying. But mostly, she could tell in their eyes. For the eyes were the window into one’s soul.

And right now, the little voice in the back of her head knew he was telling the truth. Still, she shook her head and held on to the small ounce of hope. Her heart barely held on by a thread. “No,” her tone was now pleading, and it actually made Cooper’s heart break just a bit. Seeing the strong woman who fought against Nazis and stood before politicians reduced to a fragile state. “I don’t--I need proof.” Actually having proof would confirm her worst fear, but what good was it to remain in denial. “Prove to me what you say is true!”

Cooper peered up at Lucy, who appeared apprehensive, likely knowing what he was about to suggest. He only gave her a stern look, “You know it’s the only option.”

“But--.”

“There’s nothin’ in this Goddamn bunker that can help prove to our new friend here--,” That was a far reach to call Y/n a friend. She’ll view them as anything but once they take her outside. “That the last 350 years have come and gone.” Y/n looked like she wanted to kill him, not liking the way he spoke of her unfortunate fate. “We take her to the surface, so she can see for herself.”

Cooper stood up straight, extending his hand to the soldier who eyed it wearily before accepting it, letting him pull off the chair. She maintained her balance this time, the room not spinning as much but senses still disoriented. Only this time it wasn’t the drugs but the overwhelming anxiety consuming her. She let him lead her to the elevator shaft, opening the gate and stepping in. Y/n second and Lucy third.

The journey up Y/n wanted to vomit, hands beginning to shake. Mind going a million miles per second. Unable to think of a single thing, so she distracted herself from the inevitable by assessing Lucy’s attire.

“What’s with the suit?”

“Huh?” Lucy turned with surprise.

Y/n gave her a once over, taking in the stained blue and yellow suit that appeared like it was made of rubber or leather. Kind of like her own tactical suit. “Your suit? What’s the meaning of it?”

Lucy’s mouth formed in an ‘o’ shape, “Oh! Uh, it’s my vault suit. We were obligated to wear them in the vaults--or fallout shelters if you wanna be technical.”

“Fallout shelters,” Y/n wondered aloud. “I don’t understand.”

“The um,” Lucy awkwardly cleared her throat, not sure how to say the next speck of reality Y/n had to face. She looked to Cooper for help but his attention was on the gate. She gulped, “The vaults are underground shelters, built to withstand a nuclear attack on the surface. When the bombs dropped those who had a place in the vaults continued life underground, while those on the surface were left for themselves.”

Once again, the world around her stilled.

“The bombs?” Y/n paled, stomach churning once more. Before she could ask further, the elevator shook as it reached the top. Y/n’s hand reached for Cooper’s shoulder to steady herself, quickly removing it once she did. Not meeting his gaze when she caught him staring at her from her peripheral.

Hand on the latch, Cooper glanced over his shoulder at Y/n, his expression dour, “Now, before I open this, I need yer’ word you ain’t gonna do anything rash. ‘Cause if ya do,” he pulled his duster aside to reveal his pistol, “I won’t fuckin’ hesitate this time. Understood?”

She held back the urge to say something cutting. Not one to take orders from a stranger, but he had the advantage. Plus Y/n was already fighting back a panic attack, dread rising from her stomach to her chest until it lodged in her throat. Heartbeat picking up.

“I-I won’t,” she promised, face tightening to the point it hurt. “You have my word.”

Exhaling, Cooper bidded Lucy a warning look until he finally yanked the gate wide open. Sunlight filled the space, the bright light causing Y/n to snap her eyes shut. Raising a hand, she slowly stepped forward, feeling Cooper reach for her forearm to guide her off the shaft. Sand crunched beneath her boots. Sending Y/n’s heart into racing mode as she began to open her eyes, shielding them with her hand until they got used to the blinding light.

When her vision focused, a wretched sound escaped her mouth, hand falling to cover it as she took in the sight before her. Instead of paved roads she was met with dry, sandy hills. Remnants of buildings she once worked. Destroyed and reduced to ash. Only their iron skeletons remained. Billboards she didn’t recognize, one reading Nuka-Cola and another prompting a company called Vault-Tec. That must’ve been linked to what Lucy was talking about.

Y/n’s hands went to her stomach, fighting to stay upright as she let out choked breaths. “Oh--Oh God,” she croaked, the truth finally hitting her. She hadn’t accepted it in the bunker, but seeing it firsthand brought a whole new level of anguish Y/n hadn’t experienced since her husband died. Even when Steve got lost in the Atlantic Y/n grieved, but not to the point she felt like she’d actually die.

This, however, had the potential to kill her.

Pins and needles pricked her hands, and sweat beaded on her hairline. Y/n’s throat tightening, chest pounding so hard it hurt. Then her whole body began to shake. The churning in her stomach finally snapping, migrating up until it released causing Y/n to hunch forward. Lucy grimaced from the side watching Y/n puke her guts out. Meanwhile Cooper only kept his head down, hands perched on his hips as he listened to the sounds Y/n’s emitted slowly turn into full blown sobs.

Lucy felt her own tears form, the scene too emotional to bear. Y/n sounded like she was being tortured. Her cries so loud they echoed against the silent wasteland. “No,” she wailed, “No, no, no!!” Knees falling to the sand, Y/n curled herself into the sand. Not caring that it got in her face and hair. Her sobs were pretty much screams of agony, the tears flowing like waterfalls down her cheeks.

“My babies,” Cooper heard, resulting in him glancing up at the sky, willing himself to hold it together. If there was one thing the cowboy could relate to Y/n now more than ever, was the feeling of a parent losing their child. Children, in her case. “No, my babies,” she broke again, as another excruciating scream tore through her. At that point Lucy couldn’t even contain her own emotion. Tears leaking from her eyes she furiously wiped away, wincing as Y/n screams became choking sounds, head lifting to the sky.

They were gone. Her children were dead, and had been for centuries. Beatrice, Henry, and Charlene. Little Charley wasn’t even two. Henry twelve and Beatrice 16. They’d already lost one parent in the war. And not even ten years later they’d lose the other. With no knowledge of what happened to her.

Y/n’s mind went to the worst possible thought. That her children believed she abandoned them. Just thinking it sent her into another episode of despair. Who knows what Zola told them. She thought of Chester, Peggy, and Howard. The three people she trusted most in life, behind her husband and Steve. Y/n had to believe they would not rest until they found her. Chester especially. After all they shared a daughter, who was his world. As a man of honor and for the sake of Charley, he would never give up on Y/n. Howard was her cousin, and Peggy her best friend. They would know something was suspicious about her disappearance. Considering it happened not long after the Congressional hearing.

But still, the nightmare plagued her. Ripping apart her soul until there was nothing left. The numbness got stronger and Y/n began to hyperventilate. Throat opening and closing to the point she struggled to breathe. “I-I can’t--,” she stuttered, hand going to her chest, where she felt her heart begging to explode, “breathe. I can’t-can’t breathe.” Gasping, Y/n felt her eyes bulging, neck veins protruding.

Cooper became concerned, hearing the woman choke on nothing but air and found himself moving toward her. “Hey now,” he crouched, gently placing his hands on her shoulder only to jump back as she began to thrash. Then it hit him what was happening, “Y/n, you’re having a panic attack. Ya need to breathe, woman, breathe.” She was fighting against his hold, which turned to him wrapping his arms around her, pressing her back against his chest as he fell knees first into the sand. Part of him thought she was gonna die right there. “Dammit, Y/n, ya gonna run yaself to a heart attack. Breathe! Dammit!” He tightened his hold, shaking her rather harshly but it was just what she needed to stop fighting him. “Ther’ we go,” he eased, leaning back on his knees to semi-pull her into his lap.

It took a good minute, but Y/n soon felt the tremors cease. Heart still pounding but the ringing in her ears stopped. Clutching onto his arms, Y/n’s shoulders shook as the tears returned. Muffling the sound of her sobs by tucking her face into the crook of her elbow. Falling to defeat for the first time in her life.

“My kids are dead,” she broke, shaking her head as her voice became barely a whisper. “My babies are dead.” Cooper stayed silent, allowing the woman to cry her heart out. For she was feeling the worst pain imaginable for a parent. Giving her the comfort he desperately needed when he lost Janey.

For Y/n, she mourned not only her children and the people she loved, but the life taken from her. When Zola placed her in that pod he froze not only her body but her future as well. 345 years, gone in the blink of an eye. Falling asleep at the beginning of the 5th decade of the 20th century. Waking near the end of the 9th in the 23rd.

The America she left behind was history. Now, the soldier had to face the greatest battlefield known to man.

The Wasteland.

In the first two weeks of Y/n’s travels with the bounty hunter and former vault dweller, she learned the dark truth behind the Great War as they dubbed it. After they raided the Shield bunker once Y/n managed to calm down, she led them to a hidden vault within an office wall where she knew weapons and emergency supplies were kept. Using her Shield ID code, which by the grace of God somehow worked.

Cooper about had a field day. Equipping himself with ammunition and guns. Lucy took claim to whatever she could fill her pack with and Y/n stocked up her suit. Knives, guns, magazines. She found a backpack and packed it to the brim. When she finished she was no longer Dr. Y/n Andrews.

She was the Eagle.

When neither of her new companions were looking, Y/n slipped into Zola’s office and stole the files on her and her friends. On her way out she stopped by the tv, noticing the box of video tapes beside it. Picking one up, her heart dropped at the label ‘House Committee Hearing ‘50.’ Squeezing her eyes shut, Y/n held herself together. And as the sound of spurs filled her ears, indicating Cooper entered the room, Y/n let out a stained sigh, “I take it you two watched these?”

He didn’t lie to her, “Yeah. We got about six in…including the one yer holdin’.” She dropped it back into the box, not saying another word as she pushed past Cooper to find Lucy. Once they were all ready, they headed back to the surface and set forth to their next target.

Then came the history lesson when Y/n asked where they were going. The rise of Vault-Tec, the bombs dropping, and how both Lucy’s father and Cooper’s ex-wife were part of it. Y/n looked at Cooper aghast when that detail was revealed, wondering how the hell the math added up. Thankfully they explained, although Cooper was more vague with his description much to her annoyance.

Lucy was the talker of the two. Happy to answer Y/n’s questions and provide clarification. As she relayed the events of the Great War and Vault-Tec’s corrupt ambitions, Y/n had to contain her reaction. Wanting to scream until her voice gave out. Shoot something until she ran out of bullets.

How could this happen? How could a company grow so powerful it managed to overtake the government. Gaining enough power to unleash a nuclear event.

So when they sat by the fire and Lucy gained the courage to ask, “What was it like?” Y/n felt that box opening. Confronting the past which was centuries worth of history but had occurred only recently for her.

“You mean the war? Or life in general?” She answered with her own question, noticing the way Cooper shifted, his eyes peering from beneath his hat.

“Everything.”

Y/n glanced at Lucy from the side, not moving her body, “I thought you both read my file. And watched the tapes I recorded.”

“We did,” Lucy admitted, offering a nervous smile, “But reading about history is vastly different than when you hear it first hand from someone who lived through it. When I taught the kids in my vault they always preferred watching the holotapes rather than the books that’d been preserved. And so much from the 20th century had been lost….” Pausing at Cooper’s warning look, Lucy began to ramble, “I-I mean I only ask if you’re comfortable with talking about it. Sorry I should’ve been more considerate--I know it’s a sensitive topic with-- I-I mean you just woke up not even two weeks ago to find 345 years have passed--and America is not how you left it. Oh God I’m being really insensitive--I am so sorry,” Lucy’s mouth snaps as the woman cuts her off with a tired sigh.

“You don’t have to apologize for being curious, Lucy,” Y/n ran her hands through her hair, dropping her head for a moment before cranking it. “But I should warn you if someone hasn’t yet, curiosity can be a dangerous thing.” The wastelanders knew exactly what she referred to.

Her curiosity ended with her frozen in a pod for 345 years.

Removing a cigarette from her tin holder, Y/n used the flames of the fire to light it, taking a deep drag before speaking. “Lucy, you have to understand, I was born at a time when women didn’t even have the right to vote. And once we did there was still a lot of work to be done to even the playing field. I worked hard to secure my education, and it was not without difficulty--especially when the support from family and the system was limited.”

Y/n went on about her life. About what inspired her to study radiation physics. How she met her husband, and her research with Project Rebirth. The SSR, and the war. She kept out some details, obviously, especially the more personal ones about her family. Both were aware she wasn’t ready to speak of her children. Or whatever relationship she had with her colleague, Chester Phillips.

When she finished Lucy asked the number one question, “How’d you become a super soldier?” Cooper was also interested in the answer, sitting up against his log. Lucy followed it with, “In the tape we watched, you told Congress all the serum was destroyed.”

Y/n stared deeply into the fire, letting the silence pass as the memory resurfaced. “After the first year we were at a disadvantage. I….before the demonstration Erskine left me a package. He warned me of his concerns that morning that something might happen. He told me to hide it, and that it was only to be opened as a last resort.” Her shoulders shrugged, then confirmed their suspicions, “I knew right then and there a vial of the serum was in the package. And I knew if the government found out, there’d be a bidding war for control. Then when the Hydra spy killed Erskine, I made sure to do everything to prevent them from getting the serum.”

Lucy leaned forward, “That night you told Congress you guys were talking strategy…”

“Was the night we used the serum on me,” Y/n finished the sentence. A sad smile formed on her lips. “We had to. It was our last resort. We went back and forth on who should take it and in the end they all voted I was the best choice. My role in creating it, my expertise in the field. I was already involved in operations with Steve,” Y/n drawled on, “They’d already dubbed me the Eagle in the papers after Steve and I crossed into enemy territory to rescue that unit. They saw it fitting.”

Another pause, Y/n lighting another cigarette, “I honestly didn’t want to--I kept thinking of the consequences if word got out. But I trusted our team, and they trusted me. They had faith when I had fear.” Letting the smoke blow out, Y/n finished her monologue with, “Like an eagle learning to fly.”

Lucy was in awe, but felt an immense amount of sympathy for the woman. She admired her strength, her resilience, her drive to fight for what is right. Lucy related to that.

“Do you regret it?” she softly asked, “taking the serum?” the question hung in the air. Allowing Y/n to really think although she already knew the answer.

“I don’t regret anything in my life,” she delivered the truth, not meeting the girl’s eyes. “If I did, I wouldn’t be true to myself.”

“You know,” Cooper drawled after a minute, gaining her attention, “them history books used to call y’all the ‘Greatest Generation’,” dramatic flair in his tone as he said the phrase. “Givin’ all the shit you folks had to go through. The damn depression and wars. Not to mention y’all were the fuckin’ original Arms Race.” His laugh was dry, “Ironic don’t ya think.”

“Well, forgive me if I sound ungrateful,” Y/n chuckled without any humor. The sound is full of sorrow and a lick of resentment, “but I don’t feel great. Nor deserving of such a label. Seeing as how the world ended up this way barely a century after it ended.”

Cooper scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Well thank God you didn’t have to witness it. Better you were in that fuckin’ pod than watching your precious America get nuked to bits.”

“Cooper!” Lucy scolded, glancing to Y/n to find her completely, and almost frightenedly, stoic.

Clenching her jaw, Y/n’s anger was becoming more difficult to contain. Going through the five stages of grief daily. Acceptance was on the horizon but she had to navigate the anger and depression first. The denial came and went the day she awoke, and bargaining was useless.

Taking a sharp inhale, Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, “I was six years old when World War One began, ten when it ended. My daddy was shipped off France and when he returned, he was a different man.” Eyes lined with angry tears, Y/n pinned her gaze on Cooper. He held it, chill running down his spine by the power she radiated. Her voice had an edge, “World War One was supposed to be the war to end all wars. When the Second broke out in ‘39, he and everyone who was fortunate to come home, felt like everything they endured was all for nothing.” She paused, letting the words linger. Lucy’s heart clenched, understanding where Y/n was going by bringing up her father.

She related to the feeling.

Licking her lips she continued, “So when America entered, and I was recruited, I made a vow to him and to every, single, soldier--living and dead, that what we did would not be in vain. That it wouldn’t be for nothing.” She swallowed, tightening her jaw. “You have no idea what I went through. What I endured. I lost my husband and my best friend,” a tear slipped, rolling down her cheek. “I was the only survivor of the Howling Commandos--do you know what that’s like? To be the only one. I came back home a new person, just like my daddy and every damn soldier who stepped foot on the frontlines. And when I came home….you want to know what I faced?” She didn’t even let him try to answer, but then again how could he answer.

“I came home to a government that I defended, working to destroy my name and reputation. Who wanted to lock me in a lab to prick and poke for the rest of my life if they discovered the truth because to them, the serum was more valuable than my life. All while raising three young children and preventing a nuclear disaster from happening,” Now the anger had released after two weeks of sizzling. Erupting like a volcano. Y/n didn’t hold back, and the two understood, not moving to interrupt.

“You told me you went through the second wave of McCarthyism. Well guess what, I experienced the first. Once Congress was off my back with the serum it didn’t end there. I had to face the man the damn movement is named after. Having to rebuild my reputation all over again because the madman accused me of being a communist! When in reality I was doing everything in my power to deescalate the tensions between America and the Reds. To ensure the generations after were guaranteed peace and a safe future. So yeah,” she spat, the fire in her veins mirroring the one in front of her. “It’s a good thing I was in the pod. Saved me the embarrassment of watching the country I risked everything to get blown to bits, as you say, by a failure of a generation.”

That last statement cut Cooper deep. Yet, he was silent. Unable to form any defense because deep down he knew there was none. His generation failed. Failed their children and the generations after them. They allowed Vault-Tec to control the narrative. Now they reaped the repercussions. But Y/n wasn’t finished, ending him with a final blow to the chest.

“And as a former soldier yourself, Cooper, don’t you blame yourself even the tiniest bit?” His sharp inhale was enough of an answer, Y/n watching the flicker of emotion pass his eyes. She knew it was harsh, but there was no turning back, even if he now hated her. “Because right now, I can’t even bring myself to think my efforts in the war accomplished anything. To me…..it was all for nothing.”

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul #cooper howard angst #the ghoul imagine #fallout imagine #fallout au #fallout fanfic #marvel au #marvel crossover #lucy maclean #lucy maclean x reader

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spooky-bunnys · 8 days ago

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Title: That's your Future

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Alice x Jasper x M!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Alice and Jasper have adopted (Name) as their own, violence, death, heavy ANGST, good ending.

Everywhere (Name) looked all he saw was dead bodies and fights. (Name) never really liked violence. Especially with how his "Creator" was when he was only a Newborn. Much like his father figure. (Name) was created for war. So he always hated fighting.

(Name) grunts as a guard grabs him from behind. (Name) quickly wrapped his left leg around his captures and easily broke it off. Easily maneuvering the Volturi guard over him and quickly breaking the Vampires neck. (Name) winced at the breaking sound before shaking his head. He needed to stop being so distracted.

(Name) looked around. Trying to find his parental figures. When he was unable to see either pixie or cowboy he grimaced and ducked under another guard. Quickly ending the fight and wincing once more at the breaking sound. He'll always hate the sound they make when their killed.

Being a Vampire definitely wasn't what it's made out to be. He finally caught site of his mother figure and breathed a sigh of relief seeing her alive. He frowned when he noticed she was in two Volturi guard arms and immediately started racing forward. Until he heard his father's pained gasp.

(Name) froze and snapped his head to where the sound radiated. His undead heart broke seeing how the guards were holding Jasper. It was like time slowed when Demetri cut his hand down. (Name) could slowly hear the scream of his mother and knew what he had to do.

He never really understood why his gift was what it was. Being able to swap places with others was never a very powerful gift to have. Although considering how much trouble his newest Auntie and Cousin has caused the last few years. It's come in handy multiple times.

Edward snapped his head behind him. He quickly reached out for his nephew. Only to grab the shoulder of his brother as (Name) had swapped his and Jasper's places. Upon seeing (Name)'s head hit the snow and both Alice and Jasper's pain filled screams both sides froze momentarily.

Alice quickly broke the hold from the guards and sunk to her knees. Reaching out for (Name)'s head. The sad smile broke Edward's heart. Edward's hand tightened on Jasper's shoulder. Both brothers raced forward. Tackling the stunned Demetri and Felix to the ground.

Jane upun seeing her guards taken down tried using her gift. But when it didn't work she looked to the side. Bella Swan with a rage and grief filled face was using her gift. Protecting her husband, brother in law, and her sister in law. Jane stumbled back hoping. Both male's would be busy with her guard. Letting her escape.

Until she heard the sound of snow crunching behind her. She briefly looked back. Until to see a emotionless Alice Cullen chasing after her. Jane's eyes widened and she turned back forward. Trying to run faster. She was the slowest of the guards, but her gift made up for her weaked speed.

Jane looked back only to not see the racing Cullen. Until she turned back around. Running straight into her. Alice snarled as she gripped Jane's throat. The imagine of her sweet son's head rolling to her feet kept playing through her mind. So instead of just ripping her head off and giving her an easy but quick death.

Alice Cullen walked forward. Multiple fights stopping to see what would happen next. Until a large black wolf stalked forward. The hand of Jane's twin Alex hanging from his mouth. Jane's eyes watered as she tried breaking from Alice's hold. Only to fail. Alice stopped a few feet from the wolf. With a icey tone Alice threw Jane forward.

"Here. A new toy Sam. (Name) would be glad to know you broke it."

The large black wolf didn't hesitate before jumping onto the screaming Jane. Quickly snapping his jaw around her head. He ignore her tearing at his snout. The picture of a happily laughing (Name) flashed before Sam's eyes. Before his jaw snapped tighter and he ripped his head to the side. Completely breaking shattering her head.

Upon seeing his best guards taken down. Aro frowned and looked around for his targets. His eyes caught Edward first. The Cullen's eyes were filled with grief and rage. Aro smirked before racing towards the telepathic male. Bella seeing the scene raced forward. Using her anger to her advantage.

Aro slammed Bella back towards her husband. Sending them both down. He tried using that to his advantage. Only to fail as Edward quickly turned. Using the momentum Bella kicked Aro's face. Stunning the Volturi King. Edward threw his wife towards the King. Bella kicked Aro in the chest multiple times before being thrown away.

Edward ran forward. Trying to remove the King's head before Aro quickly turned the tables. While he was distracted Bella jumped onto the King's shoulders and pulled upwards. Frightening the King momentarily. Edward using the distraction kicked the King's legs out from under him.

As his head flew forward all Aro could see was Bella thrusting the fire into his face. Mouthing out, "For my family." The guards trying to intervene were quickly handled by the other Cullen's and friends.

Aro stunned blinked multiple times. Seeing the absolute fury upon Alice Cullen's face. He looked around. Meeting the eyes of the other Cullen members. He stared at the tensed Edward Cullen. Who had an arm wrapped around his wife and his other arm on the shoulders of his nephew.

(Name) flinched when his eyes met Aro's. Making Emmett step in front of the male. Multiple heated glares and growls sent his way. Upon seeing the King staring at her son Alice snarled quietly. Her tone filled with anger, ice, and a warning.

"That's your future."

Jasper glared at the staring King. Ignoring the tightened hold from the guards. His own deep and threatening growl leaving his chest. Making multiple Volturi guard flinch and step away. The guards holding him winced feeling the power of the growl. Aro's eyes snapped to Jasper before meeting Alice's eyes.

"That's your future unless you change your mind."

(Name) held his unneeded breath. He had no idea what vision was shown. But upon feeling his Uncle Edward literally yank him towards the end. He could guess a few factors of what happened. But the feeling of one of the Vampire King's was very unwelcomed. Especially since both his Uncles tensed.

He relaxed when his Uncle Emmett stepped in front of him. (Name) seriously hated this. He wanted to get his family and go back to the Cullen house. Away from their so called "Royalty". Everything else happened so fast. Aro made some kind of speech (Name) honestly didn't pay attention to.

His attention was towards the wolves. (Name) happily waved towards the wolves. Not noticing the chuckling surrounding him or the retreating Volturi. Only when his mother almost tackled him into the snow did (Name) realize what was happening. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her. So thankful that they were both okay.

Jasper crashing into the hug did send them into the snow though. Which made almost everyone laugh. (Name) was very confused on why his parents were so clingy at the moment but (Name) couldn't really see his mother's visions. So he shrugged off the confusion and instantly relaxed in the arms of his parents. Glad that everything was over and their family safe.

#male reader #x male reader #twilight x male reader #twilight #twilight x reader #alice x jasper #jasper x alice #protective cullen family #x male child reader #breaking dawn #breaking dawn part 2 #volturi #twilight volturi

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 10 months ago

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Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it?

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: LISTEN TO BEYONCE'S NEW ALBUM. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

********

FOUR: SHE A TYRANT.

You pause, wondering if you heard Gojo correctly or if Valentine smoked you after all. “Come again?” you ask.

Your eyes switch like ping pong balls between the handsome strangers, wondering who will make the first move. Geto bites back a laugh while Gojo cackles to himself. “We said,” he repeats, humor in his tone which pisses you off, “we are here for you.”

You pause, processing their confusing words. “For what?” you bark. “To kill me? Have your way with me? ‘Cause I don’t roll like that, especially with outlaws.”

Gojo shoots Geto a look, winking at him. “We know,” he chuckles. “You kill ‘em dead instead…which I’m kinda curious about. Why is that you–”

“That’s none of your business!” you snap. He puts his hands up higher.

“How do y’all even know where I was?” you demand, more upset than anything about your secret identity being exposed. You thought you were more careful! You’ve kept your face hidden behind a bandana for years as the Femme Fatale, never coming out of it unless you’re alone or no one knows who you are. You thought you were safe in Blackwater.

“It ain’t hard to ask around,” Geto explains. “We blew into Blackwater after a couple of folks in the next town over said they saw you headin’ South. Since this is close by, we figured if you weren’t here, you’d at least be seen here.”

He gives you a smile, sweet despite the situation at hand. “How lucky were we to have found you?” he chortles.

You keep the gun trained on them, cocking it. “Seriously?!” Gojo scoffs, glaring at you. “After we already put down our guns, you still wanna kill us?!”

“I don’t trust outlaws,” you growl. “I’ve been waitin’ for y’all to come here to get Valentine, so I can finally cross y’all off my hit list…but I need some questions answered first.”

You watch the duo give you a questionable look. “I wanna know where Benji The Bandit is,” you say, your voice steely and cool. “Ya’ll work for him, correct?”

The duo share a troubling look with each other at the mention of their boss and the eviliest man in the wild, wild West. He robs the rich and the poor; decimates towns and villages; has killed dozens. Legend says that he can show up in a town only once and scare its civilians into silence which is why the law has been chasing him for nearly two decades now. Nobody will ever give up Benji the Bandit’s whereabouts unless they have a death wish.

“We did to work for him,” Geto answers, correcting you much to your dismay. “We did his dirty work for two years until he gave us a mission that we had to refuse.”

You cock your head to the side, curious. “And what was that?” But the duo stays silent on that and you sigh, exasperated. “Fine, don’t tell me that, but at least me where he is.”

“We’re just as clueless as you, doll,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve been lookin’ for him for three years since we left him, but you know Benji: if he don’t wanna be found, he won’t be. Now may we ask you some questions?”

“No,” you hiss, pissed that you didn’t get what you wanted. “I don’t wanna find out why y’all are here for me. Frankly, I don’t care and now you two definitely have to go if you know who I am.”

Even through his blindfold, you can see Gojo roll his eyes. “Drama queen,” he mutters. “We won’t tell anyone.”

You squint at them, sizing them up. “How can I be so sure?” you ask suspiciously. “How do I know that if I let my guard down now, y’all won’t put a bullet in me where I stand?”

Geto frowns at you, possibly wondering why you’re so difficult. “We wouldn’t do that,” he says, actually sounding offended. “But since you mentioned us takin’ you off guard…”

His foot only moves an inch across the carpet, but it slides across the hardwood floors anyway and takes you with it. With a shriek, you trip backwards and lose the grip on your gun, causing it to fly out of your hand. You manage to catch yourself with one hand balancing you and turn so your on one knee, staring up at Geto who bends down to pick up your gun. “Hey!” you bark.

He smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming underneath his cowboy hat. “Now that’s takin’ off guard, little lady,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to get the gun from you. It was startin’ to scare my ‘Tarou.” He looks back at Gojo with a smiling that way too intimate and personal to be platonic.

Flushing at the realization, you gape at them. “Wait,” you pause. “Are you two–”

“Together?” Gojo finishes with a smirk. “I’m afraid the rumors are true, doll: the famous gunslingers ride more than just horses. But you won’t tell anyone, will ya?” He gives you a wink.

You stand up with a grunt, angered at the subject being changed and being embarrassed by Geto’s move. “Listen, I don’t care about y’all’s love life,” you scoff. “Just gimme back my gun!”

Geto twirls your gun around his gloved fingers, his gaze teasing. “And if I do, are you gonna blow our heads off?” he asks. He and Gojo keep their eyes on you, sizing you up the way you do them, watching you to see what your next move will be. You have to be careful, so you shake your head.

But the long-haired outlaw isn’t buying it. “How can we be so sure?” he retorts. Gritting your teeth, you go to snatch it from him, but he holds it up out of your reach. “Ah-ah…I asked you a question.”

“I said give me back my goddamn gun!” you snap before kicking Geto straight in the balls. His pretty face screws up in pain and he grunts, dropping your gun as he cups himself and hunches in agony. You race to pick up the pistol, but Gojo’s foot sends it shooting across the floor to the other side of the room.

You glare at him, seeing red like a bull. “Oooh, she’s feisty,” he cackles, taking off his hat and letting it fall to the floor. “I like that. Just be careful, little miss. I happen to like what ya just kicked.” Geto groans as he rolls onto his side, still cupping his balls. You’d laugh if you weren’t so pissed off.

You stand before Gojo with your fists tightly palled up and your feet in a fighter’s stance like a boxer. “Goin’ against me?” you bitterly laugh. “I’d like to see you two try.”

You take the first punch at Gojo, but he blocks it with his hand as if he saw it coming a mile away. You take another; he blocks it again. Frustrated, you decide to switch it up and go for a kick at his head, but he ducks.

His next move is something you count on him doing: he yanks on your ankle, sending you careening backwards onto the floor. This time, you can’t catch yourself and fall onto your ass. You have no time to focus on the sharp pain shooting up into your behind because the outlaw quickly gets on top to straddle you.

“Usually, I don’t do this with girls I just met,” he chuckles, “but I think you’re an exception, little miss.”

“Bite me,” you growl before wrapping your legs tightly around his neck and squeezing your thighs around it. Using all the strength in your core, you bring yourself up to headbutt him with the top of your skull. You release him and with a gasp, Gojo falls backwards into the couch, clutching his head.

Quickly, you get up and head to the door to escape, but two strong arms wrapping around your midsection stop you. With a yelp, you’re shoved into the wall by Geto, pinned between him and the wall. “Get offa me!” you cry out, wriggling around to try and break free. But that becomes futile when you suddenly feel Geto begin to pin your arms behind your back, sending sparks of pain shooting into your body.

“No!” you cry out, near tears. “Stop!”

“Then calm the fuck down,” he demands, his voice firm in your ear. Though you do stop, you turn your head slightly to look back at him, seeing the warning in his eyes. “Or what?” you spit defiantly.

A terrifying (yet thrilling) fire alights behind Geto’s dark eyes just at the same time as Gojo comes to assess your restricted state. “Oooh, she’s a brat,” he chuckles despite just receving a nasty headbutt. “Now I really wanna keep her, Sugu.” He tugs his pink bottom lip between his white teeth.

“Chill, Satoru,” Geto firmly says, his eyes still trained on you. “We won’t hurt you, but if you’re okay with bein’ pinned against the wall, then by all means, sugar, we’ll get the whip.”

Gojo gives you a sly grin, his long, thick, black leather whip in his hand now. At the thought of being tied up and completely at their mercy, you let yourself go slack in Geto’s hold.

“Okay, okay, I’m calm! I promise!” You take a deep breath and relax yourself, much to your dismay and irritation. You don’t like listening to anyone, especially grown ass men, when you’re a grown ass woman.

But in this situation, you’ll have to. Satisfied, Geto releases you and you begin to rub the kinks out of your arms from his iron grip, turning to face them as you do. The duo gives you your space now, stepping to the other side of the room. A sudden knock at the door makes you jump. “Y/N!” Todo yells. “Everythin’ okay in there?”

“We’ll come in if you aren’t!” Mai calls through the door. “We’ll call the sheriff!”

“Mai, you idiot, don’t let them know that!” Maki criticizes. You look at the duo standing before, wondering if you should say yes. Finally, you call to the others, “It’s alright, y’all. We just dropped some drinks up here.”

The two still stand there, never getting their guns or taking a step near you. They leave the ball completely in your court. “Explain,” you demand, crossing your arms.

“We didn’t come to fight you,” Geto explains and the corner of his lips lift slightly, “though that was quite entertainin’. We came to offer you a proposition: you team up with us. Help us take out these other baddies.”

You raise your brows at them, stunned. After putting up that fuss, they still want you on their team? ‘They must want this pussy bad,’ you think.

“Plus, you’ll need us for protection,” Geto adds. “It’s only a matter of time till people find out who you are, especially when Valentine gets arrested. You think he’s gon’ keep quiet about your identity just ‘cause you shot him in the ear?” Your world once again crumbles when you realize that he could be right.

“Shit!” you hiss, pinching the bridge of your nose as a headache begins to thump-thump-thumb against your head. “Shit, shit, this ruins everything! I had a plan!”

“Well, whatever that plan is, we can still help you achieve it,” Gojo replies, “but you’d have to come with us. We’re not gonna go into detail now since I’m sure people are listenin’,” ––he nods at the door––”but with our skills and brains combined, we could be unstoppable!”

You look between the two, assessing their faces for something––a glint in their eye; a twitch of their mouths––to give them away. But you see nothing. “What’s in this for me?” you ask suspiciously. Geto looks like he was waiting for you to ask that question. “We can go into all of that if you agree,” he tells you.

They actually look like they want you to say yes to this and to your shock, you want to. You’re curious as to why they want you in the first place out of so many other people dying to even get their attention. But you can’t. You have a plan that you’ve been putting together for years now.

“No,” you laugh. “Sorry, fellas, but I work alone. I always have and always will. Plus, I’ve been runnin’ from the law for years now and they haven’t caught up to me yet.”

They look like they were expecting that answer. Gojo sulks while Geto gives you an understanding nod. “Can’t bash the confidence,” he says, “but if you ever think differently…”

He takes a moment to take something out of his pocket––a piece of paper––and takes a pen from the nightstand next to the bed. He scribbles something down before passing it to you. “Pay us a visit,” he finishes. “We leave tomorrow.”

You read the message in your hands, seeing a number and an address to a motel: 1211 at the Corner of Maplewood, Rm 201 - G &G.

Geto then moves to pick up his weapons, straighten himself up, and walk back over to you. His eyes on you longer than necessary as he watches you read the note, looking gobsmacked. “Think about it,” he whispers. “We hope to see you again, little lady.” He takes your hand and gives it a light kiss before walking off to the door.

Gojo gives you a wink and a tip of his hat as he follows his partner to the door. “Bye for now, doll,” he says. When Geto opens it, Todo, Shoko, Yuki, and the Zenin sisters stand in the threshold, wide-eyed and definitely eavesdropping.

“Ladies,” Gojo greets as he follows Geto out the door. “Y’all might wanna dial for y’all’s sheriff. I don’t think this establishment needs a wanted criminal as a boss.” He nods down at Valentine’s unconscious body before heading off, disappearing down the stairs.

You are immediately bombarded with questions as your coworkers rush you, but you can’t say anything. You’re too busy staring at the note, so much that you begin to memorize the hotel room number.

*******

That night, the Blackwater saloon closes early and Valentine is arrested.

As soon as Gojo and Geto leave as quickly and as quietly as they’d come, Choso calls the Blackwater sheriff who riles up his posse and quickly come on their horses, one of them dragging a steel box behind it to transport Valentine to prison.

The entire saloon erupts in whispers and shocked stares as they watch two officers drag Valentine’s body down the steps, his wrists cuffed.

For the next hour, the entire saloon is questioned––you, the bartenders, the dancers, the guards, and even the customers––about what happened tonight.

You tell the sheriff about Geto and Gojo’s arrival to find Valentine and Valentine forcing you onto the Gunslingers, but you don’t tell them anything about anything other than that. The sheriff doesn’t seem suspicious of you, only thanks you for your time and apologizes for this “huge mess”.

Later, you retreat to one of the empty bedrooms to watch Valentine be tossed into the back of the steel cart. As you watch from the window, Geto’s warning continues to haunt you. You can’t help but wonder if he’s right.

Will Valentine expose you to the law? Will you be arrested? That makes your want to flee even more tempting. Just leave without telling anyone where you are headed.

But what about Shoko and the others? What would you tell them? You look down at the note clutched in your palm, reading the hotel number over and over again. Can you really trust these guys?

The door to the bedroom opens and you quickly hide the note in your bosom just as Shoko comes. “Jeez, what a mess,” she sighs, hands on her hips. “This is gonna be the talk of the town for a week. I just spoke to Maki and she’s gonna be takin’ over the saloon till we get a new manager.”

“Why doesn’t she just manage it herself?” you ask. Shoko just gives you a look and you laugh, knowing damn well that Maki would cuss so many people out that she’d never be able to handle a managerial job.

“Came up to tell ya that the saloon is closing for tonight,” Shoko says, giving you a tender look. “We can head home.”

You nod, giving her a smile. “Thanks. I’ll change my clothes and say bye to the others then.”

Silently, you walk past Shoko and she lets you, watching you go. You can tell she is worried about you and wants to ask what happened tonight, but she doesn’t want you to feel attacked or cornered. But you also know that she’ll ask you later when you’re both home.

After saying goodnight to the saloon employees and pretending to vomit when Yuki giggles about going home with Choso tonight, you change into a simple, pink dress, pack your things, and walk home with Shoko to your shared home only four blocks from work.

When you moved to Blackwater five months ago, you bunked with Shoko in a 500 square foot room that you renovated into an apartment with a kitchen, a small lounging area, a bathroom, and two twin beds.

You couldn’t be happier to have such a great roomie and friend, but you know it can’t last forever. This is the thought you’ve had in your head for months now any time you acted as if you were “normal”, going with your coworkers to happy hour at another bar or gossiping with Shoko by the candlelight at home. And you can sense that Shoko feels the same way as you take the short route home together.

The dirt roads are quiet, the many stores, boutiques, and establishments closed for the night, and the street lamps surrounded with buzzing insects attracted to the brightness and alight with flames that light your way as you walk side by side. The night is warm, but not sticky and you can tell that rain is in the forecast judging by the smell. You’re originally from the South, so you know these things.

Shoko is concerningly quiet, something that is unlike her. You wait for her to ask the golden question, but she instead stays silent, looking ahead. “Alright,” you sigh. “Go on and ask.” she looks at you questionably. “Hm?” she asks.

You give her a long look, raising an eyebrow. “You wanna ask me about the Gunslingers, so go ahead! Ask me!”

But she doesn’t, probably because she figures that you need your privacy and that you have your reasons for keeping things from her…which you do. “We didn’t have sex,” you say. “And they didn’t force themselves on me if that’s what you’re worried about. They didn’t even really want Valentine.”

Shoko finally looks at you as she takes out a cigarette and lights it with a match stick. The end of the cigarette butt glows bright red, reminding you of a firefly in the darkness. “So what did they want?” she asks, confused.

You bite your lip, battling internally with yourself. You know that Shoko wouldn’t go running to the law if you tell her who you really are, but the life you live has taught you to never trust ANYONE. But even so, you can tell her some of the truth.

“Me,” you softly whisper.

Shoko stops walking and stares at you in awe, the cigarette dangling from her lips. “They asked me to come with them, Shoko,” you explain. “To join them and help them catch other wanted outlaws.”

She continues to stare at you as if trying to pull back the layers of your skin and bones and peer inside of you. You away to a nearby street lamp, watching the flame flicker in the gaslamp.

“Well, why don’t you?” she asks. You look back to her, shocked. She shrugs, puffing on her cigarette. “They may be able to help you get to Willow Springs like you always wanted.” She gives you a reassuring smile, probably to make you feel better about not telling her the entire truth.

At the mention of your dream, you feel an overwhelming sense of need come over you. You want that so badly: a life in Willow Springs, known for its quietness, away from the wild West and danger. Just a quiet life with a cabin by a waterfall and your own farm, ditching the Fatale Femme identity for good.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I don’t even know if I can trust ‘em.”

Shoko once again shrugs and takes a final puff on her cigarette before tossing it down and crushing it under her heel. “Well, you’ve got plenty of time to think about it, but I personally think you should do it. Throw caution to the wind and let ‘em take you away from here.”

She stares you down with her eyes, intense yet caring. “There ain’t nothin’ here for you, honey, and that’s the truth.” Then she walks off towards your apartment, leaving you standing there stunned but knowing that you’ll eventually catch up.

Something in you tells you that her words mean more than she lets on and they follow you all the way home and into your dreams that night.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #my fic shit #black writers #jjk smut #cowboy gojo #cowboy geto #satosugu #satoru gojo x black!reader #suguru geto x black!reader #cowboy!au #cowboy!geto #cowboy!gojo #poly smut #poly love

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sunnysidevans · 2 years ago

Text

Middle Of A Memory - J.Seresin

Synopsis: Jake Seresin was an asshole, everyone knew it. He flew with confidence and held a cocky smirk. Behind every cocky smirk and snark remark was you, built into his memories, memories he always lived in.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin X Pilot!Reader - CallSign: Hela.

Warnings: 18+,mentions of alcohol, mentions of flying accidents, mentions of death, swearing, angst and of course fluff.

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave”

The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stand and his body stiffens at the sound of Rooster's voice, causing him to stand from the pool table.

He knew he needed to keep his cool in front of the group of aviators. He plants his signature smirk on his lips, making his way to Rosster, looking over his face.

The smirk covers the thoughts running through his mind as he is quiet for a bit too long for Hangman. “Anyone who follows you” he leans back on the pool table, a smirk plastered on his lips. “Is just gonna run out of fuel” he tilts his head.

“You are just too snug on your perch” he pushes off the table, his back to the group he lets his facade falter.

He never wanted the group to know that Rooster hit a nerve.

His face remained stone as he turned back to the group, his mind on one thing, you.

Tennessee.

The bar was packed full for Friday night. The sound of the jukebox could be heard for miles. You grin, pushing into the crowded bar, looking around for the group of friends you were meeting. With none of them in sight you walk towards the bar, sliding on one of the stools. The bartender grins at you with a raise of their brows.

She chuckles, “new to the area?” she asks as you chuckle, eyes moving to her face. “What gave me away?” she shrugs, “I just get the impression you are not from here” she nods as you smile. “I am not, I just got stationed here” she grins, looking you over. “Army?” she asks as you laugh, head falling back. “No Ma’am I am Navy” she grins wider.

“I don’t see them very much” smirking, you shoot her a wink. “No, we certainly do not” the southern accent pulls your attention to the left. He’s leaning his elbow on the bar as your brows furrow, looking up at the sunkissed man beside you.

He grins, looking you over and then back at the bartender. “I’ll take another beer and add whatever the lady is havin to my tab” she smirks and moves her way across the bar. Sitting back in the chair, you look up at him, “well thank you for buying my drink” you say.

He smirks, nodding looking back down at you, “what brings you to lil ol tennesse?” he asks as you shrug, thanking the bartender. “Work for the most part” he nods, pulling the stool beside you closer, to the point your knees were touching as he sat down.

“Well, welcome, I’m Hangman” he holds his hand out with a smirk. You hold back the chuckle, raising your brows, you decided to play along. “Hangman? Did your mother hate you?” he laughs, shaking his head, “it’s my call sign, I’m a Naval Aviator” you nod slowly, biting back your growing smirk.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Hangman” you shake his outstretched hand, noticing your group of friends make their way in.

You stand and send him a smile, “Thanks again for the drink” you wink over your shoulder, walking towards the girls. “He was cute,” Raven, your best friend says.

“Please Ray, he’s a pilot, major red flag” you smirk as she chuckles, “So is that your red flag too?” you laugh behind the straw of your drink.

The music was pumping through the speakers loudly. Raven had a smirk on her lips as she danced to the Usher song playing through the speakers.

She points toward you seated with your third drink, motioning you to her. You laugh, setting the drink down and walking towards her.

Her hands fall to your hips, pulling her body into your own, whispering loudly in your ear, “you should go dance with hot cowboy!”. You laugh, hands falling on top of hers, “I don’t know Ray” you look up and as if he knew you were talking about him, he smirks and meets your eyeline.

“Do it! You need to get laid!” you shove her shoulder gently, catching her stumbling body.

“Fine!” you smirk as she laughs loudly. Raven watches as she cheers behind her own solo cup, looking at her over your shoulder with warning eyes. In the process, you don't notice Hangman making his way to meet you halfway. “Wanna dance?” he smirks, startling you as you meet his eye. Smirking, you holding your hand out to him, he takes it and pulls your back into his chest.

He chugs the last of his red solo cup, handing it off to someone beside him and lands his hands on your hips.

He leans down, lips brushing your bare shoulder causing a shiver down your spine, he smirks. “You are quite beautiful” he whispers in your ear, nose brushing your hairline as he stands to his full height. You laugh, head falling back onto his shoulder as your hips continue to grind against his own.

The bodies were sweaty, his musk was intoxicating more so than the shot of vodka in your drinks. Turning to face him, your forehead resting against his own as his smirk stayed tattooed on his lips.

Looking up at him through your lashes he grins, winking as the two of you make eye contact. “(Y/N)!” you turn to Gypsy, another girl that came out tonight. She smirks looking between the two of you, eyes falling back to you. “Hi Jakey” he grins, nodding towards her with a grin, hands still attached to your hips.

“Jakey?” you question slowly, in your intoxicated state thoughts moved slower. Your hand slides down his chest, “oh my god, big brother Jake?!” your finger is planted against his chest as you look at Gypsy. She nods, smirking as your eyes widen. “Anyways, Raven got a text from Bradley” you sigh, nodding.

Your hand continues it’s journey down Hangman's chest, landing on the buckle of his jeans with a smirk on your lips as your eyes meet his again.

“Nice dancing with you, hungman” kissing his cheek, you hurry over to the group of girls. In a blink of an eye, you were gone.

“Ladies and gentleman” Admiral Cain smirks from the front of the room full of aviators. “We have someone new joining our squad today” he stands with his hands on his hips, “she’s coming to us from Florida down in Pensacola, her skills will be an asset to this squad”. Walking into the room and shutting the door gently behind you, the smile on your lips is not hard to miss.

“I welcome, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), call sign Hela '' making it to the front of the room, you shake Admiral Cain’s outstretched hand. Raven smirks from her own seat at the look on Jake’s face at the sight of you.

“Let’s see what you got” he dismisses the group as everyone makes their way out of the room, green eyes stayed burned into your flight suit as you followed.

``You’re a pilot?” he asks, his voice full of southern charm. You sigh, turning to face him. “I am” you smirk, his own smirk grows. He holds the toothpick between his teeth, looking you up and down in the green flight suit, it was sexier to him than the skimpy outfit you had on the night before.

He holds his hand out again, “Jake Seresin” you shake his hand slowly. “I know who you are” you say, watching his face as he shrugs.

“You know of me darling, you’ve now formally met me” he winks.

“So, Hela huh?” he asks, following beside you towards the tarmac. “Named after the goddess of Death” you chuckle, grabbing your helmet on the way out the door. “Let's see if you can keep up hangman, or do I call you Hungman?” you wink.

“Can’t wait to see you fly Hells Bell” rolling your eyes, you look back at him. “What did you just call me?” he smirks,

“welcome to the south sweetheart”.

The ground was never as easy as the skies were, you were more comfortable flying a multi-million dollar plane instead of walking on the ground. “So, Hela” Jake’s voice is slightly distorted on the comms but you don’t miss it.

“What could you possibly want?” you ask, turning to see him beside your own plane. “Are you ready to have some fun?” he asks as you chuckle, looking around.

“Two bogies” you motion to him with a nod veering aside to move below him. He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. The comms fell silent only for a matter of minutes. “I could really use some help here” you grunt, continuing to attempt to avoid lock on yourself.

"Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Hangmans coming” you can hear the grin in his voice. “get down here and help me you glorified ken doll” he chuckles. “You wound me” you smirk behind your mask, moving below the boogie, they flew above you and straight ahead.

“I got you Hells” if you could count the amount of time you rolled your eyes. “I’ll see you back on the ground” you mumble, flying back to the base.

The cold shower was cool on your skin causing you to close your eyes. Being the new kid was never easy nor was it easy getting now with the attention of Jake Seresin.

“Jake likes you,” Raven says from the bench as you sigh.

“I don’t understand why he’s known me for a total of two days” you push the water out of your face with a groan. “You practically gave him a hard on at the bar, probably gave him one today” you laugh, stepping out the shower with the towel around your body.

“You okay?” you question, standing in front of her. She nods slowly, looking up at you with a shy smile, “everything okay with Brad?” you ask as she nods. “He got into Top Gun'' you grin, sitting beside her.

“That is wonderful!” you laugh as she nods sadly. “What is it?” you ask, picking up on the sadness in her voice. “I just want to be there with him,” she admits as you shake your head, standing up.

“You will totally be there with him before you know it!” she nods with a smile, standing herself.

“Are you coming tonight?” she asks, the squad was going out for drinks down the road from base. “I-I don’t know” you admit as she groans, “please hels?” she asks as you nod slowly. “I'll think about it” she nods with a smile on her face, kissing the top of your head as she exits the room.

You've been in Tennesee almost 10 months. On base with not one Seresin but two. "Please hels come out tonight!" Gypsy pleads from your the closet, shuffling through the clothes. "Why?" you ask from the bed, looking up from the book you were nose deep in.

"So you can flirt with Jake and get it over with" she admits, stopping at the surprised gasp you let out. "What are you talking about?" knowing the growing smirk on the younger Seresin's lips, you regretted asking.

"You and Jake flirt, you have since you got here, I think you should come out and show him what he’s missing" you laugh, nodding slowly. "What he’s missing? And that’s what exactly?” she shakes her head, hands on her hips as she turns to face you.

"Remember the army sergeant? Who was just head over heels for the hot naval aviator? What was his name?" you laugh, falling into the sheets. "Do not bring dylan into this!" you defend as she smirks leaning over you.

"You're coming."

The summer sun was slowly setting as the bar crowd made their way into the bar. You smile, looking around the bar. Girls danced on the bar as two women behind them happily gave drinks and shoved tips in their shirts.

“Is this a coyote ugly bar?” you ask Gypsy who grins from ear to ear. You laugh shaking your head, walking through the crowd, once you get closer a name calls for you.

“(Y/N)!?” you look up and see the eyes of the redhead from the bar looking down at you.

“Oh my god, Wanda?!” you yell back, moving closer to take her outstretched hand. “Are you kidding me?! What are you doing here?” you yell over the music as she grins, “Vis is stationed here too!” she grins as you laugh, squeezing her hand.

“I’m so happy for you!” you smile, taking the beer from her hands. “I’ll be back!” winking, she nods and stands and moves along the bar as you make your way to the crowded table.

Jake and the rest of the pilots had finally shown up. “There she is” you roll your eyes at Jake’s drawl, smirking at the blonde pilot. "Hi Hungman" he smirks at the nickname, noticing the short neckline of your top tonight. He notes it was similar to the one you wore when he first met you.

You move to stand beside him and turn to your friends. Raven is nose deep in her phone and Gypsy is flirting with one of the other pilots on the squad.

You couldn’t quite remember how many drinks you had or how you managed to get up on the bar with Wanda.

The group of aviators left you unsupervised for a matter of minutes and you were gone, like a child.

“Where’s hell's bell?” Jake asks, looking around the table as Gypsy shrugs, her eyes slowly land on you. “Uh, Jake” she nods towards the bar as you are taking Wanda’s outstretched hand. Climbing up with her as you gasp as No One Like You by Scorpions blasts through the speakers loudly.

“Gooooooood Evening Tennessee!” Wanda yells into the megaphone. “We have ourselves a special guest tonight, a former coyote herself now a Naval Aviator!” you laugh at the cheers in the bar, holding the beer up. “Give it up for our very own” everyone claps as you take wanda’s hand, swaying your hips. “Oh Jesus” Jake mumbles under his breath, setting his beer down and excusing himself from the conversation.

He was curious to see what happened but knew he couldn’t let you embarrass yourself very long.

Wanda’s hands land on your hips as your hips sway against hers, the crowd cheering as you bend down, running a hand up your bare thighs and standing with a flip to your hair. “I didn’t know she had it in her” Jake makes note to his younger sister who stood beside him, “I did” she winks. “I should probably get her down,” he says more to himself as she shrugs, “give her time”.

As the chorus plays the buttons on your blouse slowly come down and before Jake knows it, your plum lace bra is on full display.

Walking along the bar, you swing your shirt in your hands as a cowboy would a lasso, crouching down to get the money that fell in front of you. Standing back to your full height, you don’t notice him or his blonde hair right away, singing along loudly to the speakers.

He reaches forward, his hands falling behind your knees, jumping at the feeling of someone's hands on you, looking down at his smirking green eyes.

“C’mon Hell’s Bell, you’ve had enough fun for tonight” you laugh, head falling back as you laughed harder. Wanda makes her way over then noticing his hands at your knees.

“Hey now!” he holds his hands up in defense, she notices then the service khakis , “are you part of her squad?” she asks.

He nods and before you know it the world is upside down and you are face to face with Jake Seresins ass.

Jake gently sets you in the passenger seat of his truck, shutting the door quietly as you slump back into the soft interior. “Be careful” Gypsy has her hands on her hips, Jake notes she looks just like their mother. “I will, I’ll be back before you know it” she nods, patting his chest and walking to her own vehicle.

He climbs in as you are fumbling with the radio, “do you have anything good on this thing” your words are slurring. “Sit back, I will pick something” he smirks at the small huff you let out as your body hits the seat.

The roads are quiet in the early hours of the morning. Jake is skipping through songs at the red light as you gasp, “no no go back!” you protest, he furrows his brows and turns the song back. You grin as Waiting for a Girl Like you by Foreigner plays softly.

Reaching over, you turn the song up loudly and roll down the window. The summer breeze felt amazing against your skin as you sang along loudly. “Hela, get your ass back in that seat” Jake looks over as your seatbelt is unbuckled, he was not driving fast or dangerously but he can see the gears turning in your mind.

The upper half of your body is leaning out the window, your hand grips the handle above the window as you pull your hair out of the pony tail you opted for the evening.

“I’ve been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive!” you sang loudly, Jake hears you clear as day as you're hanging out his passenger side window, singing loudly to the eighties hit.

Jake knew at that moment, you were going to be one of the best people in his life.

San Diego.

Top Gun.

Everything in your naval career led to this moment, “I’m sending you to Miramar so pack up your shit” Admiral Cain grins from his seat, standing as he holds a hand out to you. “I am excited for you Hela” he shakes your outstretched hand as you grin.

That’s how you found yourself here, The Hard Deck bar.

Walking through the door, you are taking a look around the room. You make your way to the bar, sliding into the vacant seat farthest from the door. A shadow casts over the dim lighting causing you to look up at the smiling face. “You're a new face” she grins, setting her towel aside. “I just got in a few hours ago” she nods, reaching for the cold beer in the fridge under the bar.

“I’m Penny” she sets the beer down, winking and walking to another customer. You couldn’t understand how you made it here, the next class at Top Gun.

Sipping slowly on your second beer, you notice his laugh first. Ears perked up at the familiar sound, looking around as his laugh continued.

Jake Seresin was in this bar.

A smirk grows on your lips at the jukebox across the room. Sliding out of your seat and making your way over to the box, you slide the change into the slot and pick the one song you knew would trigger something in the aviator.

Jake's ears perk up at the sound of Foreigner but thinks nothing of it.

He knew the chances of you being in this bar were slim, the two of you hadn’t seen the other in almost two years. Thick as thieves, he was your best friend, you've kept in touch the whole time, random phone calls and sparse text messages.

“Excuse me Lieutenant '' the voice is soft and high pitched as he smirks at the snickers of his friends. They see the smirk on your lips, of course the group has no idea who you are but you still signal for them to keep quiet.

Jake turns around and his body goes slack.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, dressed in your service khakis and a smirk on your lips.

“Hells bell?!” he’s shoving the beer into his friend's hands, arms wrapping around your waist and spinning your body around. You laugh, arms wrapping around his neck and hugging him tighter.

“Hi Hungman '' he laughs into your neck, setting you to your feet. “Oh my god you made it to Top Gun didn't you?!” he asks, hands landing on your elbows.

The grin grows on your face as you nod, looking up at him. His face held nothing but pride as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Oh my god, I am so proud of you” you laugh, hugging his neck tighter, “I’m proud of you, I’m so excited we're doing this together” you admit, his smile grows. He pulls you into his side as his arm remains on your waist with a hand on your hip and faces his group of fellow aviators.

“Gentleman, I’d like to introduce to Hela '' you grin, holding out a hand towards them, “nice to meet you”.

The waves crashed against the shoreline, sending a slight shiver down your spine as you stood beside Jake, hugging his arm. “I can’t believe we’re here” you whisper, mostly to yourself but he grins.

“I know” you sigh, head falling to his shoulder. “I wish Gyps and Raven were here” he chuckles as you look up to meet his eye, “What am I chop liver?” he asks as you shake your head. “I’m so excited to do this with you Jake” you look over his face with a grin.

He leans down and kisses your forehead, “me too, of course it would be so amazing to have Gypsy but I am excited to go through the challenge with you” you blush, hiding your face against his service khakis, kissing his shoulder.

Chuckling, he rests his head on top of your own, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side.

“Welcome to California Hells Bell '' you giggle, hugging his waist as your head falls into his chest.

“We’re gonna kick Top Guns ass” you grin.

The classroom was filled to the brim of Top Gun students. Shuffling through the door quietly, you look around for the blonde gel-covered hairs. He twirls the toothpick between his teeth as you smile, moving to sit beside him. “Good Morning” the man stands in the front of the room, hands behind his back.

“I am Admiral Bates, one of your instructors here at top gun” he smiles and eyes the room before continuing on, “and of course our airboss, Admiral Simpson'' he nods to the man at the back of the room who smiles.

“You are all here because you are the best the Navy has seen” he paces in the row of seats, “someone saw something in you all and thought you’d be perfect for Top Gun'' you turn towards jake, a smirk on your lips, “he means me” you whisper, nudging his shoulder. He rolls his eyes with his own grin, looking back at Admiral Bates.

“In the six weeks you are here, you will have a mix of things here at Top Gun, of course you will have airtime but also classes on the ground that you will need to complete before the air time” Admiral Bates seemed as the more laid back instructor compared to Admiral Simpson. “We can’t wait to see you all compete for the number one seat” Admiral Simpson says from the back of the room.

“Let's start today’s lesson, a good ol 'dog fight in the skies?” Admiral Bates questions as Cyclone grins, “I say we give 'em a shot”.

The aviators sat perched perfectly on your nose as you looked over the F-18, preflight pre-checks were something you took very seriously. “Hells bell!” you turn at the sound of Jake’s voice with a grin.

He makes his way in front of you, his own sunglasses perched on his nose, the sun kissing him almost perfectly.

You squint behind your aviators, looking up at him with a smile, “you ready?” he asks as you smirk, hands on your hips. “I’m always ready, Hungman” he chuckles, looking at you with a wide grin. “You still my wingman?” you ask, looking over his face as the smile breaks out across it. “Obviously, you aren’t going to get rid of me that easily '' your smile is contagious as one breaks out of Jake's face.

The two of you lean forward, foreheads falling against the others, “Fly Fast"' you wink with a whisper as your hand reaches out to the nape of his neck. He grins, his own hand reaching out to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers in the gel-covered hairs, “Fly Safe” he whispers back to you.

You and Jake started the small tradition before you were shipped back to Florida, always encouraging each other to fly fast but always fly safe, it was something the two of you told the other everytime you were in the skies.

“I got Warlock on my six” you mumble into your comms, looking out the canopy at the jet low in the hills. “I got you, tell me what we're doin” Jake replies, looking down from his canopy at you on his six. Smirking behind your oxygen mask, you look up at his jet, “I’m going after him”.

He holds back his chuckle, watching as you turn and head down to follow Warlock.

“You got him Hels!” Jake yells behind his comms as you continue after Warlock. He flies beside you, watching as you continue to attempt fighting off Warlock. “Hels, go left I’ll go right and split up in the canyon” Jake mumbles as you nod, looking over at him. “You got it”. The two of you break in opposite directions and move through the canyon.

Within seconds Warlock had tone on your jet, “Shit!” you grunt, slamming your hand against the glass. “That's a kill Hela, head back to base” Warlock says over the comms as you make your way back to base.

Landing on the tarmac, you huff and climb down the ladder, pulling the helmet off your head quickly. Walking towards the door, you ignore Jake making his way towards you.

"Hells bell!" he yells, joggin to keep up. "Hela!" he yells, hands on his hips as he watches your body stop. He approaches you slowly, “Look at me” he whispers, moving his hand to cup your cheek. Avoiding his eye, he tilts your chin up to meet his green eyes. You were never one to take losing easily and always discouraged yourself.

“You did great and did everything you could” he whispers as you nod slowly, “I still got myself killed, if I get myself killed, I can get you killed" your voice is soft.

He shakes his head, looking over your face, "I'm okay, and we're okay and we have six weeks to perfect it, six weeks to make top gun ours" you can't help the smile that makes its way on your face with a slight sniffle.

“There’s my girl” he smirks, pulling you into his body by the shoulders, walking towards the showers.

Six weeks flew by, graduation snuck up on all of you. Jake was number one and you were his number two. Gypsy sits herself on the bed in your small beachfront home, watching as you adjust your dress whites in the mirror. “I can’t believe you and Jake are number one and two for top gun” grinning, you look at her in the mirror.

“Jake is a good pilot” you smile at the thought of one of your favorite people. “Yet, in the six weeks you’ve been here you haven’t told him how in love with him you are” you chuckle, looking at her with a raised brow.

“You mind your business” she holds her hands up in surrender as you laugh. “We all see the love you have for the other, it’s been there for the last three years” she says, taking your wings in her hands and pinning it to your chest.

“I do love him” you admit with a smile, watching her smile grow in the mirror, “He’s my wingman”.

The ceremony was nice as awards were handed out to each aviator. Taking number two as Jake took home the plaque. You watch as he takes photos with everyone, plaque held high in his hands, his smile even brighter.

“I did it!” a voice whispers in your ear, warm hands placed against your hips, grinning against the beer bottle in your hand. Turning around you are met with his dazzling green eyes and loving smile.

“You did it” you whisper back, holding the beer out to him as he takes it in his own hands, sipping it with a smirk. “Couldn’t do it without my number two” you laugh, hand reaching out to hold onto his arms. “You could’ve done it without me, I know it” you admit as his face falls into seriousness.

“No, I couldn’t have done it without you Hela, any of it” he grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Ladies and Gentleman” Cyclone appears at the front of the room, looking around at the aviators and their families. “I hate to cut celebrations short but I just got a call from the high ups, we are needed” he takes the envelope and lists off the names.

You and Jake were the first two listed.

You quickly shake the hand of Mr and Mrs Seresin as they grin at the two of you. Jake’s hand around your waist as the two of you run off. Mrs.Seresin knew the love in your eyes as you looked at her son.

The breeze was setting in as was the evening sun. You stood beside your jet as you went over the missiles and guns attached, pre-flight checklists. “Hela” looking over your shoulder, Jake makes his way to you. He has a smile on his face, the same smile that for the last six weeks brought you so much comfort.

The last three years of your life flashed in your mind. From the moment you met him in that Tennessee bar, to when he carried you home and listened to you sing your heart out to Foreigner.

“Hey” Jake’s voice brings you out of the flow of memories, a smile on his lips.

“Hangman” your voice is soft as he approaches, his brows furrowed. “What is it, are you okay?” he asks, he was never Hangman, always Jake or Hungman, your own twist on his callsign. Nodding as you look up at him “yes, yes” you grin.

He nods slowly, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours.

Your eyes fall closed as your hand reaches back to his nape. “Fly fast” you whisper, squeezing the back of his neck as he grins holding the back of your neck to pull you closer, “fly safe” he whispers. As he goes to stand straighter, you hold him closer.

He furrows his brows, looking at you closely, “what is it?” he asks.

“I love you” looking over his face, he grins, “I love you too Hells bell” you shake your head, pulling away from him.

“I love you, I’ve fallen in love with you. You are my person, my wingman. I can’t imagine my life without you and I know this is the worst time to tell you this as well, we are going on a death mission possibly and if one of us doesn’t come back you need to know how-”

He grins at your rambling, pulling you back into him from the nape of your neck to connect your lips. You sigh against his lips, cupping his cheek and standing on your tippy toes to get closer to him.

“I love you Hela” he whispers against your lips, nudging his nose against your own. “Let's do this, get home safe and I am taking you out on a proper date” he grins at the smile on your face as you nod against his hands, “let’s get home safe”.

The mission started simple, enemy lines using planes identical to the ones you flew to shoot you down. “Hangman!” you pant, looking around you at the two bogies who surrounded you, frantically looking for your wingman. “I see you Hels, I see you!” he yells back, watching as the two of them continue hot on your tail. “Hangman” your voice is calm so calm it sends a chill down his spine.

“Hela, you are okay” you sigh, looking to either side of you, taking a deep breath. “I’m out of flares Jake '' you whisper, looking around the sky as the two bogies are surrounding you.

“Jake, I need you to take these two out” he shakes his head, watching over you. “I am not doing that, that could kill you!” he defends as you sigh.

Flying through the canyon you manage to get one of the planes off you.

In the matter of minutes smoke fills the air. “Smoke in the air!” you yell. Jake watches as the plane shards fall into the ocean beneath him. “Hela!” he yells through the comms.

“Combanchi, do you have visuals on Hela?!” the comms cut out for a short second before they kick back to him,

“negative”.

He grits his teeth as he follows the enemy plane, “Lieutenant, you need to return to the carrier”. He ignores the voice of Admiral Bates as he follows the plane, shooting them down with one missile.

He flies by as the smoke lingers, watching for a parachute in the water, he doesn’t find one.

The rain poured in New York.

Jake stood beside Gypsy and Raven at the back of the ceremony, watching as Admiral Simpson folds the flag and hands it to your mother.

Gypsy sobs beside him, hugging his arm as the cemetery slowly empties and the sea of umbrellas are gone. Just the three of them.

“She’s gone,” Raven whispers, holding onto gypsy’s hand. “I can’t believe this” Gypsy’s body shakes with sobs as Jake gently hands her over to her best friend. “Take her to the hotel, she needs rest” he encourages as the rain pours down onto his uniform. “Jake” Raven looks over his face as he shakes his head watching as she nods, an understanding in her eyes.

He watches as the car door opens and Bob, gypsy’s boyfriend steps out, helping her in and sending her a comforting smile.

He turns to the pile of dirt that is now turning to mud. “This isn’t fair Hels” he looks up at the sky, sniffling as the rain covers his cheeks, running with his tears. “It's not fair I have to say goodbye to you” he looks back down at the pile of mud.

“I miss you already” he sniffles, “I waited a long time for a girl like you” he smiles to himself at the memory of you hanging out the passanger seat of his truck, blaring the forigner song. Sobs take over his body as his knees fall into the mud. “Hey” he jumps at the hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Raven with her own sad smile.

“I know” she whispers as he sobs harder, body falling into hers. “I know” she rubs soothing circles on his back as he sobs into the mud.

“She’s gone and I couldn’t save her Raven” he hiccups, holding onto her as she shakes her head. "It’s not your fault Jake, I know she didn’t feel that way either” she lets him sob in her arms as the rain pours over the both of them. After a few minutes, she encourages him to stand.

He stands, hand holding onto her arm as he takes one look back at where you lay, your dog tags sat in his palm, he knew he should've left them but his heart couldn't part with them.

He turns back one last time at pile of dirt now running with the rain.

Present day.

The raven haired woman comes into his sight before he processes it, “take that back Bradley” Raven defends, looking at her boyfriend and back at Jake. “I’m sorry” Rooster taken back at the sound of his girlfriends voice as he looks at Hangman. Jake shakes his head, handing the pool stick to Coyote, walking out to the back deck of The Hard Deck.

The saltiness of the air filled his lungs, almost burning them. The night of your funeral comes rushing back to him as he watches the waves. “Hangman” he turns at the voice, Bob stands there with a sad smile. “I’m sorry” he whispers, moving to stand beside the blonde.

“It’s okay” he nods, looking over at the WSO. Bob was the only one in the squad who knew about you, he was there for Gypsy at the time of the funeral. “He shouldn’t say that, he doesn’t know what happened” he defends as Jake shakes his head.

“I don’t need to explain myself to Bradshaw, or anyone for that matter,” Jake stands taller, watching as Raven digs into her boyfriend.

“Jake lost his wingman, my best friend” Raven looks between the group of aviators. “(Y/N)” she looks at Gypsy, who has a sad smile at the mention of their friend. “He loves her so much, he hasn't processed her death very well, even after almost five years” Gypsy adds, looking at Rooster.

"Hela?" he asks softly as Raven nods, he knew of you, never getting the chance to meet you but always had the chance to talk to you when he called Raven.

“You know how he got his air to air kill?” Raven looks over, shooting daggers towards Phoenix who looks away ashamed.

“He went after the enemy plane who took her from us" she whispers, hands on her hips.

“He has a right to feel the way he does and act the way he does but, Bradley" she moves closer to her boyfriend, "that was a low blow even for you". She walks past her boyfriend and the group to join the two men on the patio.

She makes her way to them, smiling sadly at Jake, “I’m sorry” she reaches out, hugging him as he hugs her back tightly. “It’s completely okay” he admits, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

The two of them forming a bond since the day at your funeral, she understood what he was going through.

“I’m gonna head home for the night", he stands to his full height. “Big day tomorrow” he chuckles, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he sneaks past the rest of the squad.

Sitting behind the wheel of his truck, his eyes fall to the photo of you against his dash. It was from the first summer barbecue his family always had, the sundress laid against your skin perfectly as you smiled at him. He can feel the same smile deep in his bones as he smiles back at you, “miss you beautiful” his voice was soft in the night.

Jake walked through Top Gun the same way he did the first time, strong and confident. He knew the squad had to know what happened to you, guessing his sister and Raven told them about what happened.

The room was silent as he made his way on deck, sitting down in the front of the room with a smirk on his lips. “Never let them see you fall” your words played on replay in his mind, reminding him he was strong. He looks up as Admiral Bates and Admiral Simpson make their way on deck, standing immediately.

Jake throws himself into flying and flying only. He watches as Maverick makes his way to the front of the room, smirking behind his toothpick, recognizing him not only from The Hard Deck but also from the stories of the famous Maverick.

“Wheels up in 10” he nods, walking past the aviators, Jake stands and is immediately stopped by the admirals.

“Lieutenant Seresin” Admiral Bates stands with his hands on his hips, turning to face him he pulls the toothpick from his teeth. “Yes Sir?” he asks as Admiral Simpson looks at him, “I need you to follow me” he says,motioning to the door.

The squad watches as Hangman follows the Admirals. “What is going on?” Gypsy asks as Raven shrugs, looking between their boyfriends. “Did Jake do something already?” She asks as they all shrug again.

She sighs, hands on her hips as she follows Bob through the hall. The two men knock on the office door, watching the other before a soft voice encourages them in.

“Now Lieutenant” Cyclone looks at Hangman, he remembers him from his time at Top Gun, he remembers the two of you always together. "We know this might be confusing and shocking, so please remain calm" Jake follows the two men and his world stops.

There in front of him stood, you.

You turn from the window, face covered in bruises and a busted lip, covered in your Navy bomber jacket.

Jake felt his world rushing back to him, felt the weight of the last four years almost drowning him as he was staring into the face of death.

“Hi Hungman” your bruised lip smirks back at him.

if you enjoyed this fic, you can find all my other fics here, in the library.

a/n ps: if you've read this far and you're thinking, gosh, I wonder if there's a part two to this, you're totally right, you can find part two to this fic here: "Red Carnations"

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman x reader #top gun hangman #hangman fic #jake hangman fic

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retrospacejelly · 7 months ago

Text

A Western Vendetta

Pairing: Ex-outlaw!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: A look into Miguel’s past, and why he was given the title, El ángel vengador.

Warnings: Angst, Guns, Mentions of the devil’s tango, typical cowboy things, language, death/murder, gore, alcohol

BEFORE YOU READ: This chapter is very dark! It is a huge contrast from the last two chapters so please read with caution!

Part: 2 ½ /?

Part: 1, 2, 2 ½ , 3

Not proofread

A/N: I had this idea brewing for a while, and character AI helped push the plot! (Thank you Monstera for letting me expand on the plot!)

Reach out if you want to be on my taglist!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red. Red was all he could see.

“Mamá…? Papá…?”

A young Miguel, only eighteen, had just finished work for some extended family in another town. He was delighted to be back home.

“Mamá, Papá?!”

He runs through the house, stopping suddenly at the sight before him.

In front of his eyes, the bodies of his parents lay lifeless on the parlor floor. The stench of iron flooded his nose, and his stomach churned. He looked around. Except for a tossed chair, nothing seemed to be out of place.

-------------------------

Miguel stuck the shovel into the cold dirt, makeshift headstones staring back at him. Reciting a quiet prayer, he turns to make his way back into the house.

He had walked throughout the house, looking for anything of value that might be missing.

Nothing.

Money that was kept in his father’s nightstand and safe was untouched. His mother’s jewelry was still organized in her cedar jewelry box; an anniversary gift from his father.

When he opened her jewelry box, he took her beaded rosary and a copper ring. He smiled sadly at the copper ring. Shoving them into his vest pocket along with some money, he made his way to the parlor.

Whoever had done this was going to pay. Whoever had done this would meet the wrath of Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel snatched his father’s trusty pistol from its spot on the mantlepiece. As he made his way to the front door, he slipped on his cowboy hat and set off for the town.

-------------------------

He first made his way to the saloon, its bright and cheery atmosphere a stark contrast from himself. He quietly made his way to the bar, ordering a whiskey.

He needed to come up with some sort of plan. He couldn’t just go around asking people if they’d seen any suspicious folk. He didn’t even know who he was looking for.

His thoughts were cut short by the sound of loud, boisterous laughter. Moving his head to the side, he noticed two seemingly drunk men four seats down from him. He shook his head, annoyed.

“...Yea, that bitch squealed like a damn pig, I tell ya! Had it comin’ too.”

Miguel’s attention was piqued.

“Don’t ya…don’t ya think killin’ ‘er was a bit much, though, Butch?” his friend asked.

The man named Butch scowled at his friend. “Hell nah! She made a damn fool ‘outta me when she turned me down at the market. I’m fuckin’,” he hiccups, “Fuckin’ Butch Wyatt. And no one makes a fool ‘outta me!”

Butch slams his glass down. “Planned on jus’ killin’ ‘er and leavin’ the body for ‘er husband to see. But that Bottom-Feeder came home early. Had to kill ‘im too.”

His friend tries to calm Butch down, not wanting to cause a bigger scene. But Miguel had heard. Oh, he heard well. He had to set his now empty glass down so as to not shatter it with his hand.

He watched as they made their way out of the saloon, swaying drunkenly out the doors. They wouldn’t make it far.

After a couple of minutes, he stood from his seat, placing some coins down by his glass. Nobody seemed to notice as he made his exit.

The street was silent save for the drunken laughter of the two men and Miguel’s heavy footfalls following behind them.

He watches as they turn into an alleyway, and speeds up his pace. His blood starts to pump faster as he closes in on the two. He slips the gun from its holster and calls out to them.

“Hey, Bastardos.”

They turn around, their eyes slowly trailing up to his own.

“Whatdya jus’ call me…?” Butch blurts out, reaching for his gun.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Senor,” Miguel answers, his dead eyes trained on Butch. Butch’s friend tugs his arm, a look of dread on his face. “C’mon, now Butch, you don’t know who he is?” he asks.

Butch looks over to his friend. “Am I supposed to know who he is, Casey?”. Casey leans in. “That’s Miguel O’Hara, I’ve seen ‘im doin’ work around town…”.

Butch lets out a laugh. “O’Hara?! Yer’ the bitch’s son?! What? Come ‘ere to seek revenge, boy? It’s two against one, ya know.”

Miguel doesn’t respond.

“Yer’ mother was a fuckin’ whore. When I pointed that gun at ‘er, boy was she-”

“Squealin’ like a pig. Yea, I got that.”

The sound of a gunshot rings throughout the alley, Butch’s body slumping to the ground. And before he knows it, he aims at Casey and shoots.

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The sun had risen just above the hills, and roosters crowed from their perches.

The Mayor’s wife was taking her usual morning walk with her mutt, Captain, humming happily to herself. She always awoke before the town to get a peaceful walk in.

She sees something hanging from the square’s stone statue (the statue being her husband of course). The sun blinds her vision of the statue as she squints to get a better look.

She walks closer, bringing her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun.

And then.

“AAAAAAAH!”

Her shrill scream alerts the homes nearby. She drops Captain’s leash as she covers her mouth, sobs racking her body.

Joshua, the storekeeper’s son is the first to stand by the wife’s side. When he looks at the statue, he retches.

As more and more townsfolk gather in the square all hell breaks loose. Shouts of fear and surprise fill the air but are soon quieted down as the Mayor makes his way through the crowd.

Looking up, he gasps, horrified.

There, hanging from the Statue’s arm were the mangled corpses of Butch Wyatt and Casey Brown.

And as Miguel stands at the top of a hill overlooking the town, mounted on a stolen horse, he can’t help but smirk as one of the residents shouts, “El ángel vengador!”

From that day forward, Miguel O'Hara would venture from town to town seeking retribution on other outlaws. Word spread fast of an Avenging Angel making its way throughout the West.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the people of Miguel’s hometown to figure out just who this Avenging Angel was. Word of El ángel vengador’s identity spread even faster and soon wanted posters of Miguel O’Hara were posted on every surface throughout every town.

Some argued that El ángel vengador was helping towns that were being terrorized by outlaws while others argued that vigilantes had no place to go around killing people.

As the years passed, Miguel made a realization that killing outlaws wouldn’t bring his parents back and would only make the reward for his head higher.

-------------------------

As he sat on the small bed in Y/N’s guest room, fiddling with his mother’s rosary, he thought to himself.

It had been a decade since the end of his murders, and five years more since the death of his parents. Even after all these years, he is still considered a wanted man, although the hunt for him has simmered drastically.

He couldn’t help as a tear escaped his eye, bringing the rosary up to his lips.

Tomorrow would mark the anniversary of his parents' deaths.

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This was a dark segment! A huge contrast from the previous chapter, I know. There might be some confusion, so here’s some clarification on age:

Miguel is around 33 when he meets Y/N. His parents were murdered 15 years ago, but he quit his murders 10 years ago.

Y/N is around 26. Her ex-husband cheated on her when they were both 21.

______________________________________________________________

Reach out if you want to be on my taglist!

@codenameredkrystalmatrix @slushycoookie

#miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel atsv #atsv miguel #for you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #cowboy #wild west #western

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alexiavettel · 2 years ago

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Ten things I hate about you

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: age gap, explicit language, allusions to sex, drinking, mentions to death, motorsport accident, angst sometimes, rbr mentions (ew), Horner mentions (he’s not the bad here), no use of Y/n, Daniel Ricciardo is a walking cliché (it’s actually cute for me) and Michael and Scottie are actually babies.

summary: The ten reasons why you hate Daniel Ricciardo through the years. But remember, the line between hate and love is thin, be careful…

I hate the way you talk to me,

“What are you doing here kid? This is an adult RedBull party, you shouldn’t be here”

“Shut up Ricciardo, I deserve to be here as much as you”

“For being the boss daughter? Wow how deserving!”

“And what are you doing here? I thought you jumped off last year”

“Y’know gal once you go Danny Ric you never want to go back, your daddy likes me so here I am”

“Dear god, I thought that after you were a coward and moved to Renault I would never have see you again out of the paddock”

“You don’t what you’re talking about, girl” the older man towers over you in the corner of the saloon.

“So unbothered until someone call you coward, right? You’re childish Ricciardo, that’s what you are”

She hates when he calls her kid.

and the way you cut your hair.

“Oh my god what have you done, cowboy?”

“Liked the new cut, golden girl?”

“Wow stopped calling me kid, it’s a significant development Ricciardo”

“Want me to come back calling you kid? ‘Cause I don’t mind”

“Shut up, and to be honest no. I don’t like it, the new cut just shows your age better you’re almost going bald man be careful” you said laughing.

“What wait really?”

“Your hairline looks like circuit corners, to be honest. But hear my wise words big boy, let it grow more than you’re used to. Curls look good on you”

Daniel always have his curls looking good now.

I hate the way you drive my car.

“C’mon girl, you drunk too much”

“OH DANIEL! What are you doing here, handsome?!” you might had a little too much long island iced teas

“M’gonna take you home, come on” he took your both hands and led you to the exit

“What about my car? She’s my precious daughter I can’t leave Daisy alone!”

“You named your car? You scare me sometimes little girl… You’re lucky I took an Uber, ‘gimme the keys”

“Don’t talk about Daisy like that!” you drunkenly shouted in the parking lot

“You’re joking you drive a manual! You have a fucking Supra what are you? Brian O’Conner?” he put you in the passenger seat and belt you on.

“Not like you’re not a fucking formula one driver, huh? Lucky me! And don’t talk about Daisy like t-that she’s purple not orange like in fast and furious” He just rolled his eyes and started driving.

“Didn’t know you could drive, even more a manual”

“You say that because you never saw me drifting”

They spend the next night drifting in an empty parking lot.

I hate it when you stare.

“What are you looking at mate?” Nico asked the younger man

“N-Nothing” he stopped staring at you across the paddock

“Hmm ‘nothing’ right? The ‘nothing’ you mentioned is that one covered in Red Bull merch staring back smiling right now?” Daniel immediately looked back searching for your smile but just found you laughing at one of Albon’s jokes.

She felt his eyes burning into her, she always did.

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

“Ouch! Daniel!” You shouted after he stepped on your foot in the middle of a dinner at your dad’s house with some friends, former drivers.

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean it” he gently caressed your hair with an apologising smile

“Okay but why the fuck are you wearing combat boots? It’s a dinner Dan, I thought you had a better sense of style”

“Sorry darling it’s not about the boots, it’s my big feet and y’know what they say-“

“Shut up, Ricciardo”

He gifted her a pair of combat boots on her birthday. She wears it at every opportunity.

and the way you read my mind.

“Stop. Stop thinking too much” he caressed your cheek

“But I am not-“

“Yes you are, I can almost hear your thoughts and I know they are plenty. Just don’t make a big deal out of it, if you want to stop and pretend I never kissed you we can do it…”

“No-"

He kissed her goodbye that night, and did it almost all the others nights too.

I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.

“I have something for you… I asked Michael to put it in your driver's room” you quietly whispered while passing through him in the McLaren hospitality

“Late valentines' gift, darling?” he said laughing.

“Maybe…”

You were scared of being a little too fast, but it was inevitable. You hate the things he makes you feel.

When the man found the sunflowers in his bed he was beyond surprised. But the two letters between the yellow fresh plants made a glint appear in his eyes. The first one had “about you and me” written down in the envelope.

“I have sat upon the seashore

and washed away my fears.

I have lived so many days now

that they are turning into years.

I have walked up in mountains.

I have splashed around in streams.

I have conjured up ideas

that have moulded into dreams.

I have seen a thousand faces

And I've matched a thousand smiles.

I have been to so many places

that I'm losing count of miles.

I have heard the wind, so gently,

cause the trees to creak and moan,

but I have never felt a heart

as perfect as your own”

And the second one had “about your eyes” written down in brown tint.

“You hated your eye colour,

called it a dull and dirty brown

Wished for the deep blue of an ocean,

where admirers hearts would drown

And it pained me when I realised,

you'd never see it like I do

The way your eyes hint a story,

that I want to read right through

They hold specks of stolen sunlight,

that you'd miss with just one glance

And a depth of raw emotion,

that can freeze you in a trance

They're a fix of melted chocolate,

when I'm craving something sweet

But hold a gaze that's so unwatering,

that I find it hard to meet

I fall right down the rabbit hole,

when I look into your eyes

The brown of earth's unfettered beauty,

that I yearn to memorise

When I was tired of not belonging,

they made me feel like I'd been found

And I hope you never say again,

That your eyes are simply brown.”

He even posts pics of his eyes now.

I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right.

“You need to stop running away! You want to end this or not? You want to keep hiding us from your dad like an afraid little kid? I do EVERYTHING to be with you but in the moment it gets a ‘little too real’ you run! That’s what you always do!” Daniel never screamed at you but today has been an exception.

“You don’t understand, Daniel! It’s not just my dad, it’s a lot more complicated than that!-” you mourn sitting in the sofa

“What? Have you realised that I am ‘too old’ for you? That you are wasting your time with me? That the public and your family will criticise us?”

“You are not old for me, babe… But they will speak y’know? I hate the media speculating about me with every single driver, but what if that damages your future in another team? What if your fans start treating you differently alleging that you ‘groomed’ me since we have known each other since I was 18? What if-” you started walking towards him

“You are too much worried about me, darling. Think about yourself. Think about us, how happy we make each other. I know you’re scared, babe… But that is what would make me happier. We can wait how much you want but I’m scared too. I’m scared you’re going to leave me for someone better, you have so many options it just doesn't make sense why you chose me…” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek after

“I am never leaving you. I am just scared” his eyes gave you the comfort you were looking for, that you always searched

“But love is scary. Specially after we couldn't even tolerate each other and now we are, this” he pointed between you “I have fears and more fears with you, but our love is bigger than all of them. If you want to be with me, for real, you also have to learn to surpass your fear. We are a team, darlin’”

He was right. He always is.

I hate it when you lie.

“You are a fucking asshole, Daniel!” You shouted after closing his door.

“I am sorry-”

“No you don’t! You could’ve died, Daniel for god’s sake. You could’ve died and I would only know after receiving a hospital’s call. You lied to me, you promised ages ago that you would never… I don’t understand, like I really don’t.”

“Darling, listen-”

“Daniel, I can't hear your voice right now. It’s making me angrier and I don’t want to act irrationally”

“Can I just explain why I lied?”

“Now? No. Please go away, I really need to think. Alone.”

You don’t understand, he had a car accident during the testing for the 2021 season and said it was nothing much. You watched everything on tv and didn’t looked too bad, but you were worried either way. The g forces are too much sometimes, but he swore he was fine. Long story short, he was not. He literally disappeared for more than 24 hours and you were looking up plane tickets to Bahrain when Michael called you telling what happened.

When Daniel crashed a part of his helmet was broken, and his head hit the neck support. Obviously could’ve been worse, but the amount of blood that came out of him was scary. Michael send you some pics after you almost threatened him of death, he explained that Daniel had only a small opening in his neck. And he was conscious enough after the crash to get out of the car, message you and go walking to the medic station. But unfortunately one blood vessel has been hit in the process and he was having an internal haemorrhage.

The thing is, he was notified before the surgery and he answered your call saying that “I am completely fine darling, just gotta do some exams and gonna be back to sleep in the hotel in some hours. Don’t worry, I love you” the first time he really said those words, and could’ve been the last.

She said I love you back. And took care of him until he was good to go back.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

“Oh my fucking god, Daniel! My dad is going to kill us” you said laughing after being thrown in your father’s pool with Daniel. His Monza win meant more to you two than you had expected.

“He can kill me if he wants, but it was worthy. At least I’m going to die happy. I could die happy whenever I’m with you” he kissed you messily.

“So cheesy, Dan ew. But if you really meant it, I hope it’s going to take a bit more to your death ‘cause I have no plans of ever leaving you”

“And I am the cheesy one-?”

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING HERE?” Oh that must be your dad… oops?

He always loved her laugh, even when they hated each other… The sound of her laugh always was the closest thing to heaven, for him.

even worse when you make me cry.

“1st task: word search, find your gift.”

No fucking way, Ricciardo. You say “I’m sad” in one day, and in the next you wake up with this note in the bed. The only possible answer in this messy word search was office. When you got to his office desk a box of chocolates was waiting for you, with another note, this time in the format of a heart.

“2nd task: i need to be fixed, what am i?”

Just could be the wardrobe door, that shit almost knocked you up one day. Just right, honey. You found a little cute poem with another note.

“I don't want a fairytale

ending with you.

I want to be there

to help you face

your fears and

to help you overcome

your failures.

I want to give you

the kind of love

that's not distorted

and fabricated,

but real, raw

and honest.”

“3rd task: complete the sentence, w__r_ __ _ s_en_ m__e __me on _ho_e?”

With an embarrassing amount of time, you discovered to be “where do I spend more time on phone?” and that must be the main bathroom. In the mirror lipstick were marking the words

“4th task: i am in your most peaceful place”

with a little flower in the end. There’s only one place.

When you opened the wooden door that separates the living room from the garage and garden you felt tears burning your eyes. Daniel were sitting in the garden with sunflowers, picnic basket, plenty of fruits, drinks and food in general.

“Sorry about the lipstick I used an old one and I swear I’m gonna clean after and-”

“You’re the most cheesy, cliche and argh I don’t even know what to- I fucking hate loving you!” How could you get so lucky? This 5’10’’ aussie, who has the biggest smile, loudest laugh, the best hug ever and seems like his life mission is making you the happiest person alive.

“Darling, don’t cry please! I hate when you cry!” he walked over you

“You were the one that made me cry!” you laughed sniffing giving a kiss in his cheek

“Eh… I might actually have one more thing…”

“What? I don’t think you can surprise or make me cry even more-” you said cleaning away your tears.

“Surprise!” You were wrong. Definitely wrong. Inside the picnic basket instead of more food was a little dog puppy, which couldn’t even open his eyes properly in this light. They furr shined in the sunlight, nose slightly scrunched and tail faintly moving side to side.

She thought the first time she would cry for a man, that it’s not her dad, would be after a heartbreak not for a cliché surprise.

I hate it when you’re not around.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise after this work I’m gonna get on the first plane to you, and then we can enjoy my summer break together. I swear”

That was the third time he said it, the only time he promised tho. It’s hard to get that much time to spend with your boyfriend, and then he still works in his holidays.

He did what he promised but after 3 days. 3 whole days of his absence, it’s different when he’s in the paddock. At least you got a bit of him, the good morning and good night texts, facetime before sleeping and the most important thing of your life: your dog.

When he is not around, she feels like the loneliest person in the world.

and the fact you didn’t call.

It has been a while since that happened but you still remember how the feeling was. The feeling of being just a piece of meat, just drunk sex, a replacement, an embarrassment or worst, a regret.

Your first time with Daniel was after his win in Monaco, 2018. Both drunk not only in tequila and whiskey but in lust. To be honest you don’t remember much of this night, but you remember him. And he remembers you. His hands were imprinted on your curves. Your fingers tangled in his hair. When you woke up in an empty bed, in a hotel room that was not yours. You remembered all too well.

You remembered that he didn’t call. You remembered that he ignored you in the garage and the paddock. When you finally got to ask (you sneaked into his driver’s room) why he was running he admitted “I just can’t even think when you are around now! All I have is memories when I look at you, and that makes me fucking mad! It makes me wanna hate you more but also makes me wanna kiss you more and fuck you more and I can’t! We shouldn’t. It’s wrong. I assume the responsibility, I’m sorry”

That was the first and last time he didn’t call.

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“So you hate loving me? Relax I hate loving you too” Daniel gave his characteristic laugh after you finished saying your poem at the end of your wedding vows.

•

“We are a team, in this life and all the others". That was the end of his vows, you could see he was shaking the entire time. You risk it looking at Michael and Scottie (obviously the best men) and they were crying like babies, pretty much more than you.

“See why I hate loving you, Ricciardo” you mentioned cleaning your tears half laughing and you could hear the guests laughing with you.

“You’re a Ricciardo now too, darlin’”

“You can kiss the bride now”

This was not the end. She still hates Daniel, everything about him, but especially, how much he was easy to love. He promised they were a team and he will always deliver on that, the love of this life of his and all the others too.

@laura-naruto-fan1998 enjoy <3

my taglist!!

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jakessbtch · 2 years ago

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☆ fluff headcanons | c.g

masterlist | requests

TW ✿ ° : hinting to deaths, Fluff

pairing ✿ ° : Carl Grimes x Reader [s/h]

summary of fic ✿ ° : Some fluff head cannons of Carl !!

requested by ✿ ° : @liu1307

word count ✿ ° : 558 words

a/n ✿ ° : ug nit updating the summary, though there will eventually be a new one!

✿ ° Carl has matching pajamas. his personal favorite are a blue pair with a cowboy hat sown onto the side. He has a whole drawer filled with them, one for all occasions. he and judith have a matching pair, him and you, he secretly has one for him and his dad too. he just loves them so much.

✿ ° Carl writes and draws his own comics, making you the main love interest and him the hero. he doesn't have much, just a few. yet he would burn himself, the comics and his home if anyone found out. secretly Rick has found one, but he never told carl. Carl reads them frequently, especially when hes alone.

✿ ° Carl is a big black cat bf he needs someone whom is bubbly and enjoyable, someone to stick up for him, and he’ll do the same. He loves being the closed off one, and he probably feels as if he wouldn’t do well with someone who couldn't show feelings well enough. Don't get me wrong he loves quiet people, but he also LOVES louder and carefree people.

✿ ° Carl names all the stuffed and real animals he comes past when on runs or in alexandria. his favorite is a tabby cat he couldn't forget, he named him Waddles cause he had an injured foot. He always told himself, when the world got better he would have a tabby called Waddles. if it ever got better.

✿ ° Carl Despises the pet name Baby. he hates being referred to as a baby because of memories in school. Carl likely got picked on because his mother was always so worried about him, preventing him from going out with friends and such. [i know this is an angst headcanon, but you're not getting fluff from me without angst].

✿ ° Carl had a dog when he was younger, before the apocalypse. He was such a sucker for animals, and after so much tiring yet purposeful pleading he got a small maltase shiatzu. he adored him, he loved going outside to run in circles and play with the dog. The dog kept him up at night after the apocalypse, but he still giggles at the thoughts.

✿ ° Carl wanted kids. He wanted 2 little boys. He found judith too fussy, and not knowing how baby boys were behind closed doors, he wanted one with you. he wanted to call one Noah and the other Flynn, you told him Noah was a basic name but he didn’t care. he always used the excuse, “It’s the apocalypse, no one is going to care about a name”

✿ ° Carls favorite subject to read about is either Mathematics or Biology. He finds it fascinating how different parts of the body works and how you could find percentages just by an equation. Carl always made fun of Rick for his lack of Mathematics knowledge. “You're wrong Dad, Look, it would be 13.6 percent because-”

✿ ° Carl has thousands of love letters in his room. he hides the everywhere, one behind a picture frame, one in old converses, on hidden between the desk and the wall. he wanted ou to find them, he could only say so much to you. he found it far more better writing them all down instead. He was in love with you.

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violetswritingg · 6 months ago

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Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

May, 2010

Oklahoma

They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and they would be right. And twelve year old Riley St. James was anything if not her father's daughter. She had grown up watching him chase storms, had been in front of the camera for a little more than some of it. The older chasers out there remember her as Rocket. Always causing chaos whenever her dad brought her around, getting under people's feet and just always wanting to be in on the action.

Not much has changed as she got older, if anything, it only got worse. She had been in front of the camera yes but she had been limited to watching from home with her grandma in bed, her Aunt tucked beside her on the couch, holding her hand and both holding their breath to see if Nathan would make it back to them in one piece. Even though most people would find that stressful the St. James family was anything but normal.

"Riley Josephine Thornton-St. James! Get back in this vehicle right now!" Her dad's voice barely carried out the open window of the Warlock, affectionately nicknamed the St. James mobile by the fans. The 'truck' was more of a tank. 3 inches of steel layered on the outside, a lowering capability on the suspension, a steel skirt around the bottom to keep out air flow and x-wing doors, three-foot-long spikes set up to pierce into the ground to anchor them in should a tornado get to close, or they want to get in the eye of it. Not to mention the double paned, double layered three-inch think Plexi-glass windows.

A street legal tank. In other words.

Riley's grin was bright, even though her baby hair was plastered to her face, despite her effort this morning to make sure it was all braided back when they had left the house, clothes soaked, but she had never been happier.

"One sec!" Riley was never one to be too far from her camera in moments like this. The expensive machinery wrapped protectively in its own little rain poncho and was snapping photos as fast as it could.

The storm they had been tracking since this morning had been playing with them all morning, looking like it was going to touch down and then not, moving on and doing it again. They had been trying to intercept but missing every time, it was shifting its travel and wind speed and making it hard to keep up. She saw something though, and her smile got even bigger, "Dad! Look!"

"What are you seeing Riley?!" Her dad, Nathanial St. James, called, leaning as far in her direction as he dared while in control of the car.

"It's gonna touch down! Go go go!" Her free hand slapped the top of the Warlock, clear Plexi-glass under her palm, layered with steel armor and providing the best views of a storm from the safety of inside and flying debris.

"You heard her." Nathan chuckled and shook his head, pressing on the gas and making the next right. On a muddier dirt road now, trying to get in the path of the storm. It didn't take long, Riley started to climb back in reluctantly knowing her dad wouldn't let her stay out there much longer, she was already pushing it as is. But then she noticed the spin of the clouds.

"It's trying dad! Look at the rotation!"

"I see it Nugget! I see it!" They both watched as the storm spun and spun, both holding their breath as the dark clouds descended little by little. Until-

"And we have tornado Gensis!" She screamed and Nathan whooped as it touched down, roaring to life and taking off. Running from them. Riley once again having her camera in her face and snapping away.

"Alrighty! We have a chance here to complete our objective for today here folks and that is getting those telemetry probes into this tornado here and getting a deeper picture of what it's like in the inner vortex of a tornado. We only have a couple sets of this kind of data and with each new set we expand our understanding of these kinds of storms, and when we understand them, we can start trying to figure out how to stop them or disrupt them."

"Why do you have to make everything so boring?!" Riley laughed like a madwoman, only looking away from her view finder for a second to roll her eyes at her dad through the Plexi-glass roof. The older man narrowing his eyes.

"Watch it." Riley just grinned and stuck her tongue out. "Real mature. We could go home ya know?"

"No, we can't. Besides, like you would just leave a chase right after one touches down in front of you." His daughter knew him too well. He chuckled and shook his head. "Are you seeing this dad! It stopped! Slow down!"

Nathan had seen it a second after his daughter, glancing at the video recorder set up beside him, attached to the panel beside the windshield and aimed inside the cabin of the Warlock. People like to see what was happening inside the vehicle too. He knew it was capturing every second and grinned before looking back at the tornado.

"It seems we are witnessing a tornado stand still here folks, what a time to be alive! And what better time than Rocket's first chase! Just a note that this kind of behavior isn't normal for the majority of tornados. It's only been witnessed once before by a friend of mine in last year." Nathan beamed as he started to take his foot off the accelerator. Doing as his daughter asked. Knowing another camera was catching it directly from the view out of the front windshield at the same time. Allowing him to focus on this moment.

The lens caught the proud look bubbling in the father's eyes as he watched his daughter laugh in the rain. Her camera abandoned around her neck as she stuck an arm out, the other securing her inside the car. Her head tilted back as she let out a happy scream. Her mind stuck on how the cold droplets stung her cheeks and made her feel like she had been struck by lightning. Her smile is wide as the sky, feeling the wind pulling at her clothes. Strands of hair getting pulled loose, but she couldn't care less. Skin sticky with humidity that dripped in fat drop along with the rain and small hail pieces that had just started to drop down and sting her skin with every strike.

"It's still not moving. Why is it not moving? It's not going to dissipate, is it?" She yelled over the wind, coming back to the moment. Looking down into the Warlock as much as she could. Her dad's eyes were on the tornado, though, his grin had faded and something settled poorly in Riley's stomach. "No, that's not right, the rotation is still going and – oh shit." She saw the vertices along the storm and her stomach sank. Vertices, to Riley's best understanding, were the streaks of little tornados you see when it's a strong tornado. And she could tell the wind had picked up.

Something dark moved in the corner of her eye and she screamed, dodging something, it was too fast to tell what. But she had a feeling that was a lot closer than her brain was letting her process at this moment, and she could feel the shift in the air.

"Inside. Now!" Riley immediately had her ass in her seat. Harness and seatbelt on and the double layered windows locked up in their storm position. "Good girl, hold on." Her dad reversed.

"No, no, no! Dad the storm is moving north!" Riley pointed to the obvious direction of the tornado, her voice approaching a shrill cry.

"The team already reported it, NWS has it and warning have been issued. We have to get out of here. It's starting to pick up speed." His voice was no-nonsense. Anyone of his team members would nod and follow the orders but not Riley. Because why would his daughter ever listen to him?

"No, we don't! We're still miles out," Throwing her arm to the front, chilled fingers pointing at the distance as if her dad couldn't tell for himself just fine, but she didn't care, she had a point to prove, "Besides, it's still going slow enough right now that we can catch up, get in its path, anchor, launch the probes, and get the data. But only if we go right now! There is nothing in its way, no towns, no nothing. It's the perfect tornado and you know it." She started to rummage around in the back, finding what she was looking for and wrapping a blanket around her.

"Riley." His tone was a warning, too bad his daughter took after him.

"Dad please. I'm not scared." Riley pleaded, "The car will protect us. That's what it's here for yeah?" Looking at him with her big blue eyes was enough to kill him, the father simply crumpling. He had taught her well; she knew what to do. He had to trust her.

"If it gets to be too much, you tell me, we turn around. Got it?" He checked in, needing her to know they would still turn around if she needed them too. No arguments, just fleeing the storm he's usually driving into.

"Got it." Riley nodded, her grin stupidly bright, practically vibrating, "Now North."

"You're gonna kill me one of these days kid." Her dad chuckles and shakes his head. Looking to the video recorder, "You heard her guys. Missions still on." He grabs his walkie and gets in contact with the other half of the team coming up around the back of the storm system. Getting a check-in of all systems go.

"Okay, here we go." Riley muttered after a couple more turns and a shift in direction they had managed to catch up. The swirling streams of air were dark and ominous and Riley shifted in her seat, Nathan noticing, Riley grabbed the tablet from the glove box, it wasn't huge, but it was new and she could see the doppler and radar readings on it. She looked to her dad, seeing what was happening and feeling her chest twist in anxiety, but she didn't show it. She trusted the Warlock, she trusted her dad. they would be okay.

"It's not an EF1 anymore dad." Riley informed, looking to the man with a worried downturn to her young eyebrows.

"I know, trust me I know." Nathan grit, white knuckling the steering wheel, his foot still on the gas. "Hold on!" He called as he sped up.

"It's right there dad!" The mam came to a screeching halt, pulling to the shoulder.

"Warlock lowered, Deploy spikes." Nathan spoke into his walkie, Riley reached to the center console and hit the button that did so. The sound of the hydraulics lost in the cacophony of wind and rain. "Rocket loaded," Nathan muttered into the walkie again, his finger hovering the launch button watching the roof, waiting. Riley watched him in awe, looking up at the tornado, wishing she could understand what was happening fully, but she still had a lot to learn.

The Warlock withholds and Riley is shaking. Her head felt like it was about the explode and the roar of the wind was all she could hear along with her dad screaming that the probes were launched and him telling her to hold on. The wind started to pick up more and the car groaned.

"Dad!" Riley's hands were white knuckling over her harness straps.

"It's okay! Just breathe baby girl. Just breathe! You're doing amazing!"

The car started to get pulled and tilt, Riley screamed as they were rolled down the side of the country road, landing upside down in an irrigation ditch as the tornado continued to push them around in the field. The heavy chassis is the only thing keeping them on the ground at this point. Nathan wanted to curse everything. What happened to the light EF1?!

"Hold on! We're caught in the back draft!" Riley grimaced as they were pulled back in reverse and then spit forward. She could feel the weight of the Warlock shifting and so did her dad. Nathan thrown an arm across his daughter's shoulder's to hold her steady as the Warlock was picked up. The tail end of it lifting up first. When they were fully in the air they didn't stick around long in the tornado. Getting tossed after about 10 seconds inside.

All Riley could see was grey, and dark. Debris flying all around them, her pupils blown as her adrenaline spiked and her palms began to sweat. Her throat closed up and she gripped onto her father's arm for dear life. It was over in the blink of an eye, but it felt like an eternity. And next thing she knew she was weightless before feeling the violent jolt. A crash. And then they were rolling. An involuntary scream left her throat and her dad held onto her tighter.

They rolled until, but by some stroke of luck, they rolled right back onto their tires. The tornado moving away from them now, but instead of demanding to follow it Riley was silent. Her chest fluttering with every sharp breath. Blue eyes wide, pupils blown wider as she shook in her seat.

"Riley? Baby? Look at me, are you hurt? Any blood. Hey, hey!" Nathan's matching irises searched his daughter's face as he questioned her. He was a little shook from that, he can't imagine what she's feeling. It was his raised voice and his hands on her face forcing her eyes to meet his that broke her out of her frozen state. Nathan's eyebrows scrunched heavily in the middle of his forehead, his every pore bleeding worry, fear, for his kid. Normal parent things. He could never tell what she was going to do and she did what she always does, send him for a loop, as she started laughing. Throwing her head forward against her dad's chest. Loud cackles leaving her as the adrenaline hits heavy and leaves her system fast now that they weren't in danger and her shoulders shake. Her dad grins a little but is still trying to find any injuries.

"I'm okay dad, I'm okay." She breathed, letting him push back some of her now dried hair, now much frizzier than before but that was the last of her worries, "I promise. But holy shit!"

Nathan was going to scold her but the water in her eyes cut off his harsh tone in his throat, tears were falling down her face as she kept laughing. And his eyes softened, petting her hair gently.

"I'm right here. We're okay. Just breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?" Nathan knew better than most what adrenaline can do to an adult body, but for kids as young as Riley it was something completely different. "Follow me." He mimicked a breathing technique he had learned early on to help him cope with this himself. He still did it after rough chases, or a close call. It helped ground him.

"Did we get the data?" she breathed out and her dad grinned. Grabbing his daughter's chin lightly and moving her head to annoy her. handing her the tablet with his other hand.

"I don't know, why don't you check?" Her dad smiles down at her softly, still keyed up for adrenaline and fighting off his own shakes.

Now that he knew Riley was okay, he got out of the car, leaving her to have fun analyzing, she didn't fully understand all the numbers yet and that was to be expected, she was 12. But she liked to watch them roll in, it meant they had accomplished something.

"Baby," her dad whispered as he opened the driver door up, motioning for Riley to come to him, holding a hand out. She scrambled over the center console and all it's switches and buttons. Her dad laughing at the excitement in her eyes. "There's something I think you'll want to see. Grab the camera."

When she had the camera in her hands and was on her feet in front of him, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky, he smiled softly down at his daughter. Brushing some of her hair down before placing his hand on the back of her shoulder and leading her out in the muddy field. Her boots squishing in it with every step. She followed where her dad was pointing and her breath was stolen from her lungs. The hail in the storm causing a bright blue glow among the shelf clouds feeding into the storm. It reminded her of a clear blue lake, perfect.

"Yeah, it is. You knew what you were talking about huh?" Her dad chuckled as Riley startled, not knowing she had said it out loud. Throwing his arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulling her into a brief side hug after she pulled her camera from her face. Both of them enjoying the moment, Riley's smile soft but content, her temple against his shoulder as she leaned into her dad. "If you feel it?" He whispered into her hair

"Chase it!" Riley chirped and giggled, Nathan following suit until they were both hunched over and gasping. Clinging onto another to keep upright.

It was perfect. It was.

Until it wasn't.

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