#definitely didn’t trace the gun. definitely not.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Seth Greer

[callsigns-haze]

Family Business

Summary: Hangman finally goes back to top gun and the daggers....well they want the tea

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of labour, postpartum.

Word count: 2636 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as part three of Little Life and Silly little life

Three weeks had passed since Jake had set foot on the Top Gun base, and as he walked into the hangar, he could feel all eyes on him. The usual hum of the hangar, the sounds of jets being prepped, filled the air, but this time it felt like he was walking into an ambush. He had been out of the game long enough for them to notice—and that meant one thing: relentless teasing.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Phoenix spotted him and was on him like a hawk. “Well, look who finally decided to show his face,” she said with a grin, crossing her arms. “I was beginning to think you forgot how to fly, Hangman.”

Jake smirked, unbothered as he swaggered toward them. “I don’t forget anything, Trace.”

“Yeah, except how to show up,” Rooster chimed in, leaning against one of the jets. His aviators glinted in the sunlight as he shot Jake a smirk. “Where’ve you been, man? Can’t imagine someone like you being tied up with ‘family business.’ Sounds like an excuse to me.”

Jake rolled his eyes, leaning against a nearby crate. “Family business, Bradshaw. Not an excuse. It’s called responsibility, but I wouldn’t expect you to know much about that.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile spreading across his face. “Responsibility? You? What, did you have to help your mom put up Christmas lights or something?”

Phoenix snorted, nudging Bob in the ribs. “Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, family man. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

Payback and Fanboy joined in, shaking their heads as they exchanged looks. “Hangman with family business? Did the world end while you were gone?” Payback teased. “Or is this some weird alternate universe we’re living in?”

Fanboy laughed, throwing up his hands. “Seriously, what kind of family business does someone like Hangman even have? I thought your whole life was flying and flirting.”

Jake shrugged, keeping his expression neutral despite the barrage of questions. “Family business is just that—family business. Nothing for you all to worry about.”

“Come on, man,” Bob finally spoke up, his quiet curiosity breaking through. “You’ve been gone for weeks. That’s not like you. We’re just trying to figure out what’s up.”

Jake could feel their eyes all on him, waiting for some sort of juicy explanation, but he wasn’t about to give them anything. Not yet. Not about Y/N, and definitely not about their daughter Ellie-Mae. The last thing he needed was the whole squad knowing about the tiny bundle of joy waiting for him back in Texas.

“I told you,” Jake said smoothly, his hands in his pockets as he kept his tone casual. “Just family stuff. Nothing to lose sleep over.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed as she studied him. “You sure you didn’t get married while you were gone? Or maybe you’re secretly a CIA agent and just can’t tell us.”

Rooster laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, if Hangman was in the CIA, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. He’d be bragging about it every chance he got.”

Jake shot Rooster a look, but before he could respond, Phoenix waved a hand. “Whatever. It’s not like you’re gonna tell us anything, so I’m not wasting any more of my time.”

The others murmured in agreement, their curiosity still piqued but knowing better than to press Jake any further. The teasing eased up, and they turned back to their tasks, still throwing the occasional glance his way. But Coyote—standing back, watching with his arms crossed—had remained quiet the entire time, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He was the only one who knew the truth, after all. Coyote had been there from the beginning, the one person Jake trusted with everything. He knew about Y/N, about the love that had blindsided Jake and changed his life in ways he never expected. And now, he knew about Ellie-Mae—their beautiful little girl with Jake’s eyes and Y/N’s fierce spirit. Coyote had kept Jake’s secret this whole time, and the amusement on his face showed just how much he was enjoying watching Jake dodge all the questions.

Once the teasing finally died down, Jake excused himself from the group, heading toward the locker room to grab his gear. He could still feel the weight of their eyes on his back, but it didn’t bother him. He was used to the squad’s prying, but he wasn’t ready to let them in on his new life just yet.

As he rounded the corner, making sure he was out of earshot, he heard footsteps behind him. Before he could turn around, Coyote’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he started shaking him playfully.

“Hangman,” Coyote laughed, gripping Jake’s shoulders as he gave him a few good shakes. “You lucky son of a bitch! Walking around here like nothing happened, when you’ve got a damn baby at home!”

Jake chuckled, turning around to face him, though he glanced over his shoulder to make sure the others weren’t following. “Keep your voice down, Javy. You trying to let the whole base know?”

Coyote let out another laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, I still can’t believe it. Ellie-Mae, huh? I knew you were going soft when you started talking about Y/N, but a baby? That’s next-level.”

Jake grinned, unable to help himself as the thought of Ellie-Mae filled his mind. “Yeah, well, didn’t exactly plan on it, but… here we are.”

Coyote clapped him on the back, his eyes shining with genuine excitement. “You’re a dad now, bro. That’s wild. How’s it feel?”

Jake paused for a moment, letting the question sink in. He thought about Y/N, the late nights with Ellie in his arms, and the way his heart practically burst every time he looked at her. “It’s… crazy,” he admitted, his voice softening. “Hard to believe I could love someone that much. It’s terrifying, but in the best way.”

Coyote chuckled, shaking his head. “I bet. You better start getting used to diapers and spit-up, man. You’re in for a wild ride.”

Jake rolled his eyes, though the grin never left his face. “Yeah, well, it’s worth it. Y/N and Ellie—they’re everything.”

Coyote’s expression softened as he gave Jake another firm clap on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky guy, Hangman. You know that, right?”

Jake nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, Javy. I know.”

With that, they stood there for a moment in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them. Coyote was right—Jake was lucky. Luckier than he ever thought possible. And as much as he loved flying, he knew that his real world was waiting for him back home.

That evening, the Dagger squad made it their mission to squeeze answers out of Jake—answers they knew he wasn’t going to give up willingly. But their tactics had shifted from teasing to something more strategic: drinks. They’d dragged him to the bar near the base, determined to make him pay for disappearing for three weeks without so much as a solid explanation.

Phoenix nudged him as they settled around a table. “Alright, Hangman, since you won’t tell us where you’ve been, the least you can do is buy the first round.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but his grin never faltered. “Oh, I see how it is. You think a few drinks are gonna loosen my tongue?”

Rooster smirked from across the table. “You never know. Maybe after a couple of shots, you’ll be singing like a bird.”

The whole squad chuckled at that, and even Jake had to laugh, though he wasn’t planning on revealing anything. “Fine, fine,” he said, standing up. “But don’t expect any stories. This is just because I’m a generous guy.”

Payback clapped him on the back as he headed toward the bar. “We’ll take what we can get, man. You owe us.”

Jake made his way through the crowd, ordered the drinks, and carried the tray back to the table where the squad was already lining up a game of pool. The atmosphere was lively, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. He handed out the drinks, then leaned against the pool table, chalking up a cue as Rooster took the first shot.

But just as Jake was about to join in, his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen, and his heart did a little flip when he saw Y/N’s name pop up, along with the FaceTime icon.

“Of course,” Phoenix muttered when she saw him glance at his phone. “Let me guess—more ‘family business’?”

Jake smirked, putting the cue down. “Yeah, something like that. I gotta take this.”

A collective groan rose from the squad. “Come on, man!” Rooster protested, lining up his next shot. “Can’t it wait?”

Jake shook his head. “Not this time, Bradshaw. You guys keep playing. I’ll be back.”

He slipped outside the bar, leaving the noise behind as he stepped into the cool evening air. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the sidewalk, and he found a quiet spot away from the crowds before answering the call. As the screen connected, the familiar sight of Y/N’s desk came into view. She was sitting there, her hair tied back in a messy bun, wearing one of Jake’s old t-shirts. But what really caught his attention was the tiny bundle wrapped against her chest—Ellie, snug in her baby wrap, sound asleep.

Jake’s heart swelled at the sight of them, and his usual cocky grin softened into something more genuine. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, his voice low. “How’re my girls doing?”

Y/N smiled, her eyes tired but full of love. “We’re good. She just went down after her evening fuss. Thought I’d call you before it gets too late.”

Jake leaned against the wall, his smile widening as he watched Ellie’s little chest rise and fall with each soft breath. “She’s getting bigger every day,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I swear she looks different already.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “That’s because she is. You’re missing out on all her growth spurts while you’re out there playing pool and buying your squad drinks.”

Jake winced playfully. “Busted. Yeah, they dragged me out tonight, trying to get me to spill where I’ve been. They don’t know about you or Ellie yet.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Still keeping us a secret, huh?”

“For now,” Jake said, his tone softer. “I just want to keep this between us a little longer, you know?”

She nodded, her hand gently resting on Ellie’s back. “I get it. We’re your secret weapon.”

Jake’s smile softened even more, his heart swelling with how perfect this moment felt. “Exactly. How’s Ellie been today? No more colic?”

“She’s been a little angel today,” Y/N said, glancing down at the sleeping baby. “I think the baby wrap helps. She loves being close like this.”

Jake’s gaze lingered on them, a quiet longing in his eyes. “I miss you both so much,” he murmured. “Wish I could be there.”

“We miss you too,” Y/N said, her voice filled with warmth. “But we’ll be here when you get back. And maybe next time, you can tell the squad the real reason why you’ve been missing.”

Jake chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, maybe. One day. But not yet. For now, I’m keeping you two all to myself.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes soft as they locked onto his through the screen. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just watching each other through the screen, neither wanting to hang up. Finally, Jake sighed. “Alright, darlin’. I should let you get some rest. I’ll call you again tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice soft. “We’ll be waiting. Love you, Jake.”

“Love you too,” he said, his voice warm as he ended the call. He lingered for a moment, staring at the blank screen, already missing them more than he thought possible.

With a deep breath, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and headed back inside, ready to face the squad again, but this time with a little more peace in his heart.

The moment he crossed the threshold, Rooster spotted him, leaning on his pool cue with a cocky grin. “Oh great, he’s back. And look at him—moping around like a lovesick puppy.”

Phoenix, already lining up her next shot, glanced up and smirked. “I thought you were supposed to be Hangman, not Hang-up-the-phone-and-sulk man.”

The rest of the squad laughed, and even Bob, always the quiet one, chuckled under his breath. “What was that, your mom calling to check up on you?”

Jake rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite muster his usual bravado. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Baby on board.”

Payback, who had been eyeing him from the bar, raised his glass in Jake’s direction. “No, seriously, man. Who’s got you all down and out? You were fine before you left to take that call, now you look like someone kicked your dog.”

Fanboy leaned back in his chair, grinning wide. “I’ll bet it’s a girl. That’s the only thing that ever makes a guy like Jake Seresin go all soft.”

Jake shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. “You all have way too much time on your hands, you know that?”

“Come on, Hangman, spill it,” Rooster pressed, the competitive glint in his eyes still there even after the teasing. “You’re not this distracted unless it’s something big. Or someone.”

Jake shook his head, not ready to let them in on the truth. He leaned on the pool table, picking up a cue as if nothing had changed. “It’s just family stuff, like I said. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Yeah, we’ll believe that when you stop looking like you’re about to write a country song,” Phoenix said, taking her shot and sinking a ball into the corner pocket.

The whole squad chuckled, and Jake couldn’t help but smirk at that one. “Real original, Trace.”

But despite the banter, it was clear that Jake’s head wasn’t entirely in the game. He took a lazy shot, missing a pocket he would normally nail without even thinking. Rooster raised an eyebrow at the miss, exchanging a look with Phoenix.

“Wow, you really are off your game tonight,” Rooster teased. “First you disappear for three weeks, now you can’t even make a simple shot? Whoever’s on the other end of that phone call must be something special.”

Jake leaned on the table, sighing a little as he looked at the group. “Maybe I’m just tired of carrying you guys all the time.”

“Oh, so now we’re back to old Hangman,” Payback said with a grin. “Nice to see some things don’t change.”

But even as Jake tried to join back in the banter, his heart wasn’t in it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N and Ellie, to the soft rise and fall of Ellie’s chest, the way Y/N had smiled at him through the screen. It was a different kind of responsibility weighing on him now, one that made everything else seem a little less important.

Phoenix narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not buying the act. “You’re seriously going to keep us in the dark, aren’t you?”

Jake shrugged, still playing it off. “Family business, Trace. That’s all it is.”

The squad groaned in unison, but the teasing softened, and the game went on. Yet as the night wore on, Jake couldn’t quite shake that faraway look in his eyes, no matter how many jokes the others threw his way. And though they kept up the ribbing, no one pressed him for more, leaving the mystery of his absence hanging in the air, unanswered.

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[luveline]

hihihihi! 💕 if you’re willing, can you write a little something with shy!r being the one to initiate the first kiss with hotch but her glasses get in the way? tytyty! 🙏🏼

—Hotch almost dies and you can’t take it anymore. He’s not expecting a kiss. fem, 1.7k

The thing is that you don’t mean to panic. Hotch is marching out of the building with handcuffs cut open on his wrists, Emily and Morgan just in front of him, and you’d been stuck out here with JJ because they never let you do the touch and go stuff. An UnSub held a shotgun to the back of Hotch’s head and you just had to watch. 

You hold yourself in place with all your strength as they come down the path of the house to the blockade of cars and emergency vehicles. “I’m fine,” he says, before any of you can ask him. “Not a scratch on me.” 

You can see the skin of his wrists has cut from tugging, so he’s lying, but that’s not surprising. You shift with your hands clenched together. He’s closer now, you could touch him, nearly speechless as he says, “Honestly, I’m surprised it happened to me, and not Reid.” 

Everyone else laughs. 

You can’t take it. He looks at you, and you, despite the last year of pushing down feelings of nervousness and affection, of pretending you don’t notice how his fingers feel when they brush the backs of your hands or the way his suit stretches across broad shoulders, despite practice, you can’t stay still any longer. 

You weave around JJ, past Spencer, in between Rossi and Hotch himself to press yourself to his chest. You hug him tightly, worried he might disappear if you don’t hold on. Safe, your brain says, even as your hands tremble. He’s safe. 

“I’m alright,” he says quietly, clasping your back carefully. The handcuff stuck to his wrists jabs through your vest. You can feel it on the bone. 

“I–” Your eyes are still open, too shocked to let them close. 

“I’m fine.” 

You take that for a polite ‘unhand me’ and step back. His hand lingers on your shoulder as though checking you for injury, like you’re the one who just had a gun to their head. “You’re sure you're okay?” you ask. 

“I’m not hurt.” 

You look pointedly at his wrists. 

“Mm,” he says, turning on the spot. “I suppose I am. But there’s nothing to worry about.” 

You’re egregiously worried regardless. In an attempt to keep from making the situation about you, you turn away from him and take a walk, pretending you need something from the car you came in. You open the passenger door, sweeping your hands across the leather seat for your phone, but you don’t want it, so you hold it in two hands and try to calm down. You’re shaking like crazy. He must have felt it when you hugged him. 

If you thought he cared enough about his life to prioritise it you might not have panicked as hard, but an advantage to being quiet is getting the opportunity to really listen to people. You don’t talk much, but Hotch does, he’s always telling someone what to do, or reassuring them, and he’s constantly on the phone trying to coordinate. You’ve heard his voice for hours on end. So when Rossi told him through the wire that they were gonna get him out of there, you heard the fake confidence in Hotch’s voice as he said, “I know.” 

He didn’t know. He was scared, so you were terrified. 

You check the time. It’s almost two in the morning but the cars give enough light to see inside the car. You trace the stitching on the seat, your eyes sore and blurry at once. Admitting defeat, you climb into the seat and dig around for your glasses. You’d thought you might need them —if Hotch was injured you’d need to go to the hospital and your contacts are dailies, so you knew you’d have to take them out. 

You pull the sun guard down and flip the cover on the mirror to take your contacts out, dropping them in the glasses case to throw away later. Your eyes sting. You rub them hard. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice says. 

Hotch is a blob. You slide your glasses open and up your nose, blinking as he comes back into definition. “Hotch.” They’ve cut his handcuffs off and wrapped light bandaging around his wrists. “Okay?” you ask. 

“Are you?” 

“I’m fine, sorry.” You clear your throat. “My eyes are tired, that’s all.” 

He stares at you for too long. Desperate to be out of his scrutiny, you get out of the car and shut the door. “Can we go home soon?” you ask. 

“I believe so.” 

“Oh,” you say, looking down at his hand, “good.” 

There’s another gap of silence, and then simultaneously:

“Are you–”

“Can I–”

Hotch smiles. “You first.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? That must’ve been so scary.”

Hotch gives his head a slow shake. “I’m fine. I was more scared at the time than I would’ve liked to admit to, but I’m okay now. I’ve felt worse.” 

“Really? Worse than that?” you ask, trying but failing to smile. Your wrist is too hot in your own hand. 

He seems to measure his response. “When you and JJ got stuck in the middle of New York a few months ago, when we couldn’t contact you, that was the most scared I’ve ever been on the job.” 

New York. He’d just separated from Haley, and everyone kept telling you how much chemistry he had with Kate, and you were already hopeless for him. It sucked. He almost died and you had to act like everything meant nothing to you, he was just your boss. 

But you’re friends now. Maybe you can be a little more honest. 

“I was scared too,” you say. You can’t help pouting. You must look like a petulant kid. “You wouldn’t believe it, Hotch, I watched you on the camera twenty different times. And now today, I had to see it again, I can’t keep watching this stuff happen to you.” 

“That’s the job.” 

“But why does it have to be you?” you ask.  

His eyes track over your entire face, his brow ever so slightly furrowed. “Because it does, and it always will,” he says, eyes softening, voice like silk. He’s talking to you like you’ve hung the moon even as he lays down an unfortunate truth. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I know exactly what it is that I’m doing. I don’t want you to worry about me.” 

“I can’t help it.” 

He smiles just a touch. “I know. I can’t help it either.” 

You look at him and you know he’s not gonna kiss you. He might want to —it’s insanity, it doesn’t feel real, he almost died tonight and you never would’ve known how this feels. 

You step into his chest. You’re frowning at him, the edge of tears without any of the heat. “I don’t know what I’d do if something really happened to you,” you confess. 

The scratch in your voice perturbs him. Careful, his hand comes to rest against the small of your back, drawing you in. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“Don’t be. Please. God knows I’d lose my mind if it had been you in there tonight.” 

He doesn’t move as you touch his cheek. Doesn’t step away as you steel your nerves. He must know what you’re about to do, but he doesn’t stop you. For a moment you can’t let yourself have it. But then he lets out a breath, and closes his eyes, and he angles his head down to meet you. You tip your head to the side and lean in. 

For a few seconds, your chest is uncomfortably hot, and you’re so scared he’s not gonna kiss you back and that you’re ruining everything you can’t think right. And Hotch —Hotch must know exactly how he likes to be kissed, and you’re probably not doing it right. But you’ve wanted it for long enough to try twice. You kiss him with lips parting, your hand unsteady on his cheek. 

He makes a sound at the back of his throat and curls you in. 

You’re hungry for it, there’s no other word —the second he responds you bear up. You kiss him hard enough to make your lips sting.

“Ah,” he says with a laugh, tilting his head to the side. “I think you blinded me.” 

“What?” 

“Your glasses, sweetheart. They’re at risk of giving me a concussion.” 

Sweetheart. You touch your glasses, remember the problem and touch his face, just under his eye. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He pushes them up against your forehead. “Okay?”

“I can’t see you.” 

“Well, I don’t think that’s a necessity unless you do,” he says. 

You’re not sure what he means until he’s brought his hands to your neck, holding you by either side. 

“It’s been a long time since someone surprised me,” he says softly. Before you can make sense of it, he’s leaning down to kiss you chastely. He’s much sweeter about it than you’d been and what an embarrassment that is, you’d thrown yourself at him and he’s kissing you like a prince. 

He kisses you. His thumb runs along your cheek. When he pulls away he smiles, settling your glasses tenderly back on the bridge of your nose. 

“I’m really alright,” he says. He’ll be lucky if you ever speak again. Knowing, he cups your face with his thumbs, his fingers slipped behind your neck. 

You duck your head. He takes it as a sign to hug you, ushering your face into his neck, your glasses smushed to your eyes. If he can feel the heat coming off of you, he’s kind enough not to mention it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he murmurs. 

“Do you think I can give you back?” you ask. 

You’re glad when he laughs, a surprised chuckle that vibrates from his chest to yours. “That’s harsh, agent.” 

You were obviously kidding, but the teasing has to stop. You won’t survive it. 

“Will you kiss me again?” you ask under your breath. 

He’s too busy doing as you’ve asked to tease you. You’re too busy being kissed to remember you were scared.

[brunchable]

To the Windowww, To the Wall | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

Pairings: Stay-at-home Bucky Barnes x f!Reader. Themes: funny? Bucky being a sad puppy that you had to leave him. Summary: You had to leave for a few days, leaving Bucky alone by himself. See, Bucky doesn't know what to do without you around and he finds a way to keep himself entertained. A/N: Totally not inspired by Sebastian's singing clips.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, blue eyes tracing the car that slowly backed out of the driveway. He tried to keep his expression neutral—really, he did—but the moment you waved at him through the window with a sheepish smile, his mouth curved down into the most pitiful pout.

“Call me as soon as you get there,” he called out, voice loud enough to carry over the crunch of gravel. “And text me when you’re at the hotel, okay? I wanna know you’re safe.”

“I will, I will,” you promised, shaking your head at his intensity. “It’s only two days, Bucky. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He gave you a half-hearted wave as the car pulled away, standing there long after the taillights disappeared down the street. With a defeated sigh, Bucky trudged back into the house, the place already feeling too empty without you. He stared at the closed door, then sighed dramatically.

“Hey, Google,” he called, slumping onto the couch, staring at the ceiling with a forlorn expression. “Play something… uplifting.”

The house assistant processed the request before responding cheerfully, “Sure. Playing ‘Take On Me’ by a-ha.” The iconic 80s tune burst through the speakers, and Bucky groaned, already reaching for the bottle of red wine you’d left on the counter.

“Take on me, huh?” he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as he unscrewed the cap. He poured a dangerously generous glass, filled it nearly to the rim, and took a long gulp. “Whatever, let’s do this.”

The song picked up tempo, and before Bucky knew it, his foot was tapping against the hardwood floor. He took another sip—more like a gulp—and suddenly, it wasn’t so bad. He could be alone for two days. He was fine. Totally fine.

“Take on meeeee!” he belted, raising his glass in salute to the empty room, swaying with the music. He spun on his heel, shuffling over to the kitchen, letting his voice warble with mock sincerity, “Take me onnnnn!”

Feeling the buzz of wine, the song swapped to “Hungry Eyes” next, holding his glass like a delicate flower. He glanced at his reflection in the kitchen window, grinning at how absolutely ridiculous he looked.

“Hungry eyes…” He set the glass on the coffee table, swaying his hips with exaggerated movements that definitely didn’t match the beat. 

“One look at you and I can’t disguise…” His voice faltered as he noticed just how lonely the living room seemed without you. He grabbed the bottle again and poured himself another glass. 

Screw it, he thought. If he couldn’t be with you, he could at least dance away the emptiness.

He threw himself onto the couch, raising his glass high above his head as the final chords faded. 

“Google,” he shouted, half-expecting the AI to be annoyed by his demands, “play ‘Get Low’ by Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz.’”

The house assistant complied, and the second the familiar booming beat and crunk vocals hit, Bucky perked up, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“To the windowwww to the wall!” he sang, throwing his hands up and letting his hips sway. The buzz of the wine, coupled with the absurdity of dancing alone in their living room, made him throw caution—and dignity—to the wind.

He got up, spinning in place like he was at a crowded club instead of a silent, empty house. Bucky shimmied to the center of the living room, red wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim as he started to get into the groove.

“Til the sweat drop down my balls! Til all you bitches crawl!” he bellowed, bounced to the beat. Pretending to taunt an invisible person with gun fingers.

He leaned forward, a playful grin stretching across his face as he started lowering himself closer to the ground, hips rolling in tight circles. “Ahh skeet skeet motherfuckuhhh” he growled, then laughed at how ridiculous he sounded.

He jumped back up, still swaying his hips in rhythm to the chorus, then decided—because why the hell not?—to try his best attempt at Lil Jon’s vocal growl. “Ahh skeet skeet goddamn!”

Feeling a surge of confidence, Bucky planted his feet, rolling his shoulders back. “Get low, get low, get low, get low!” he sang, then reached out to slap the air like he was hitting someone’s backside.

He burst out laughing at his own antics but kept moving, thrusting his hips forward and back with exaggerated flair. 

“To the windowww, to the wall!” he shouted, holding the final word until his voice cracked.

Glancing over his shoulder, his hips swinging from side to side. He brought his hands to his hips, then began moving in small, tight circles, thrusting forward with more energy than was probably necessary. He was completely lost in the rhythm, the absurdity of it all driving away the loneliness—at least temporarily.

“Drop that ass, aye, shake it fast, aye,

pop that ass to the left and the right, aye!” 

“Now back, back, back it up!” he sang, doing a quick little shuffle steps backward, “Now, stop! Then wiggle with it.” He reached out with one hand, smacking the air as if it were someone’s backside again, then immediately snapped his hips forward with a grin.

He didn’t even notice when the front door creaked open.

“What the hell… are you doing?” Your voice cut through the blaring music, startling Bucky so badly that he nearly dropped the glass. He whipped around, his face flushing a deep shade of crimson.

You stood at the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in a look of pure amusement. He blinked once, then twice, his stance frozen in mid-thrust as if he’d been caught in the middle of a crime.

“I… I thought you left,” he stammered, wide eyes darting to the door and back to you. He stared at you for a second longer, then glanced down at himself—knees bent, hands hovering in the air like he was about to grab something. “This… this isn’t what it looks like.”

You blinked, glancing from his face to his ridiculous dance stance and then back up. “It looks like you’re dancing to ‘Get Low’ and smacking an invisible ass.”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he straightened up with as much dignity as he could muster and cleared his throat, smoothing his shirt like it would somehow erase the last few minutes of embarrassing dancing.

“Um…” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I… missed you.”

“I was gone for ten minutes,” you pointed out, stifling a laugh as you stepped closer.

Bucky shrugged, eyes darting around the room like he could somehow come up with a reasonable excuse for what you just walked in on. 

“Yeah, but… it felt longer.”

You shook your head, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you reached up to cup his cheek. 

“Well, I’m here for a little while longer… I guess we can share a drink.” Your grin widened as you glanced around the mess of the living room. “And maybe, if you’re nice enough, I’ll join you for one last dance before I go.”

His face lit up immediately, his grin matching yours. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He pulled you into his arms, the ridiculous music still blaring as he spun you around the room, your laughter blending perfectly with the beat.

When the song changed to a new beat, you pulled away, raising a brow as you glanced at him. “How about I show you some real moves?”

Bucky’s grin widened as he stepped back, giving you space. “Prove it.”

With that, you took a deep breath and started moving, your body flowing smoothly with the rhythm. You rolled your hips, your arms swaying in sync, and when the beat dropped, you dipped low, popping back up in a fluid wave that left Bucky staring, mouth slightly agape.

“Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh. “I had no idea.”

You laughed softly, giving him a playful shrug. “I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.”

Bucky’s gaze softened as he took a step forward, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you replied, stepping back before he could pull you close again. “But, I really do need to go.”

His face fell slightly, but he nodded, understanding. “Alright.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, giving him a warm smile. “I’ll be back.”

Before he could respond, you backed up a few steps and—making sure his eyes were still glued to you—you dropped low again, this time adding a playful shake as you swayed back up, your movements teasing.

Bucky choked on a laugh, his hand flying to his mouth as he watched you with an almost comically wide-eyed stare. “That’s just unfair.”

You blew him a kiss. “See you later, Bucky.”

And with a quick, last little shimmy, you were out the door, leaving him standing there, a goofy grin plastered on his face as he shook his head, wondering how the hell he got so lucky.

[bothoutsiders]

Lately, Tim had been thinking about relationships in particular. He didn’t feel any loneliness or a need for somebody else. He didn’t seem very into kissing, having a special someone or doing something intimate with them. His mind never went there, and because of that, he believed relationships were not his thing. 

He was, definitely, not interested in any of that.

“You have to cover this area so you don’t leave any trace.” Jason said in a deep, warm voice, and with both hands completely open, covered the area with a black plastic bag. His hands were big, and moved in a confident way, as if he had been doing this all his life.

And for some strange reason, Tim felt something funny in his stomach.

When Jason walked away, a smell of gun powder, leather and something else, something delicious, almost drowned him. It was so good, that he almost followed the other man, only to keep breathing him.

Jason came back, and Tim glanced at his body. It was easy to notice how strong, tall, manly, and good he looked. Just to imagine Jason’s body hovering over him, his strong arms wrapped around his body, and his voice purring his name…

Tim looked away, something warm and needy woke up inside him. Something that he didn’t know it existed and spread through his body with ease.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jason’s voice made him look up and, oh. Was Jason’s face this handsome before? “Your face is red. Do you have a fever? Maybe it’s time to call it a night.” And Jason’s strong, warm, big hand is on his cheek, cupping his face– and alright. Alright. Maybe Tim is interested in relationships. 

Maybe he is interested in Jason.

--

i'm drunk, i'm not sure what was the point of this. maybe some yearning, maybe some horniness, maybe tim teenage horniness just stared, maybe he's in heat, idk. you make the rules, my friend.

[ijscoupe]

(no pressure to write this of course!! Do whatever makes you comfortable and happy <33)

I live for angst, and this was probably done before but I’d love to see your take on it if it’s no bother:

Reader with Simon who believes that their feelings for him aren’t reciprocated, that he and some other recruit are an item and so they keep their distance

Until a mission goes wrong and reader protects the recruit with their life, thinking that by sacrificing themselves they’d make Simon happy.

But all this time it was a misunderstanding, and they don’t find out until Simon storms their hospital room later on pissed off about their grave injuries

it is no bother! i am angst queen. and this is actually all of my favorite things to read wrapped in one very bloody tortilla. thank you sweetie pie

fools rush in (where angels fear to tread)

Your heart feels constrained, begging to be let out of its cage and into his arms. It pulses, as your head fills up with needless thoughts of pure doubt. Doubt and her and Simon, and the sniper rifle you’re holding on so tight to without a thought taken to the bruises forming on your rosy knuckles.

You hear a distant– Close? –shout but pay no attention to it, instead squinting one eye and shutting the other so tight blood rushes like a stream to your head. “Hey,” A gruff voice sounds, splitting in the air like a throwing knife to your ears. It’s nothing.

Nothing to you, at least, you know better than to assume any of his words belong to you. They’re hers, you’re sure of it. You suck in an estranged breath between your teeth, and aim right in between those stupid little beady-black doll eyes–

“Hey, are you even–?!” Ghost yells in your ear, and you flinch so hard you press the cold, steel trigger resting between your thumb and your pointer.

Fuck.

The man below the roof you’re perched on skitters away, screaming bloody murder to his mates. God, you’re not coming back from this, are you?

Simon gives you one final– definitely pissed off –look before dragging you and your gun away with him. Of course, not without bringing that dumb little new recruit along with him. He leans close to your ear, teeth grinding your fucking feelings down with seven thoughtless words spilling out of his mouth.

“Do better. What’s the matter with you today?”

Your heart pangs, an ache in your chest holding you strapped down so tight– yet your legs keep you moving, despite the grief popping like firecrackers in your chest.

While the matter he spat so rudely about, cuddled tight to his geared arm. Like she belonged to Simon. You had half a mind to split her head straight down the middle right then and there, but then it had dawned on you.

You were irrelevant.

In every instance, she’d taken your spot next to him– and he hadn’t done so much as tell her off. Ghost let her ogle over him, tracing gentle, kind (kinder than you could ever be) shapes on his hands when she’d gotten nervous.

She wasn’t built for the military, you clocked immediately as she’d been introduced– Soft, loving eyes greeting even yours with respect, unscarred, untainted skin. Unlike yours. Unlike yours, who’s had skin littered with disrespect and woe and torture from the moment you slipped into the world. She danced, daffodils lining the grass where she’d stood, entering the light like some sort of sacrificial-Disney princess.

And what were you to be, then?

An old crone utop your crowned palace of muck?

You didn’t fully know what had happened next– the recruit scrambling to protect herself from bullets, then yourself suddenly motivated to become a human meat-shield.

Of course this was how it ended. The old codger shot as a sacrifice for the beautiful lady, saved from ever leaving her ivory tower.

You wake up with a start.

Your arms are wrapped so tight you think you’re losing circulation, and once you realize no, you’re not in the fourth circle of hell, your eyes have wandered to the man at the end of your bed. Eyes closed peacefully and… snoring? Standing…?

His eyes shoot open, meeting yours. Veins practically bulge out of his built forearms when he sees that you’re awake, rushing to your bedside. You’re quick to defend yourself, worried that you’d caused a ruckus– a major supply and money loss from the doctor's efforts to save your life.

It was supposed to be a sacrifice. Something heroic, something unreachable.

Something you weren’t supposed to be here to see happen.

“I’m– I’m sorry– Simon, Ghost, L.T., you must be so pissed off with me, so done, I–” Your heart stops as his face draws together to a confused one. 

“What are you blabbering about?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed perplexingly as his hand is pressed firmly to your IV-ridden forearm. You stop, eyes trailing back to his worried face. He’s not… angry, no… his eyes are puffy like he’d been pre-mourning your death, his other hand gripping the sterile bed’s paper-flat blankets like that’s the only thing he could hold on to for you not to run away hurting yourself again.

Well, it’s not in your eyes, but you doubt he wants to hold you in this moment. Not now, when he’s not even sure your spine won’t collapse if you do so much as sit up.

“Alive and breathing for two seconds and you have the bloody gall to beg for your lover’s mercy?” You say nothing, the heart rate monitor’s steady beeping shooting up to an alarming shriek. He glances over at the hunk of metal, sighing, before getting on his knees.

He lowers his head onto your blankets, breathing in the bleach-lemony dryer sheet scent before closing his weary, tired eyes. “I was training 'er."

Nothing, again. Your heart rate smooths out to a slow beep on the screen, your eyes burning holes into Simon’s mask. “No other reason I’d let a pitiful thing like ‘er follow me around.”

“Promise, love.”

divider by astralnymphh <3 thank you lots for reading my angels my babies. i now have an emotional attachment to you all. so

[yuriisclumsy]

Greetings. I'm happy to see Cale x reader's request.. 💯

Can I request Cale x reader.. Where the reader is kidnapped, so Cale and the others try to help search her but Alberu, the reader's best friend already knows.. He be like : Yup, they didn't kidnap her but she kidnapped them.. Fluff and chaos .🤣🤣🤣

Thanks for reading.🫂🫂❤️❤️❤️

The Kidnapped Wife

[Authors Note]: Look! I updated again! Not my main muse, but I finally got a good idea for this one. Hope you all like this one! This request in back from June. PS. As you can see I don't have my iconic title. that's because of the limit in characters you can have per post. I hate it :D.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1084

»»►Getting kidnapped is something that would definitely happen to us, because, you know…we’re the wife of the most powerful man in existence.

»»►How did we get kidnapped? Oh, I don’t know…maybe it was because of the temptation of FOOD?

»»►Seriously, out of all the things they could have bribed you with, it had to be food? So uncouth.

…

“What do you mean [Name]’s been kidnapped?”

That was the first question Cale asked when he was informed his wife had been kidnapped.

Yes, you read correctly. You have been kidnapped.

And no, you did not take a nap. You’re no kid. I mean that bad people abducted you to an unknown place, far away from any village–hell, far away from any living soul.

“I received a letter from the letter’s boy under your name, Master Cale. When I grabbed it, I smelled the faint traces of poison coming from within it,” Ron explained.

There’s poison in this…?! Cale yelled in his mind, and let go of the paper instantly.

The butler smiled sinisterly, amused at Cale's actions of dropping the letter at the mention of poison. “So, to secure your wellbeing, I decided to open it and see if it was life threatening. But you needn’t worry, Master Cale. The letter only had a small amount of poison in it. It would only take effect if you were to hold it for a longer period of time.”

Bullsh-t. You knew it had poison, and didn’t bother warning me about it, you creepy old man.

“Right… Well, thank you for taking my health and well-being into consideration, Ron.”

“You are very welcomed, young master.” Bastard.

Cale turned his body to look outside the window. “Anything else regarding her?”

“Unfortunately, these foxes were more cunning than this old fool could have anticipated. They left no trace of their presence behind for us to possibly find.”

“...” Cale looked out where the children were playing, unaware of their ‘mother’s’ disappearance. “Call for Rosalyn and Raon. We need their magic for this, also…” he looked back at Ron, “get the crystal.” Ron’s smile widened. “We’re calling the imperial family. This could very well be an attack on the kingdom.”

…

Grunts and pants are the only sounds heard in a room turned upside-down from battling.

“You B-tch!” a man yelled.

“You’re calling me unpleasant?” The man went flying to the wall behind him at full speed. “Me?”

“Ah!” Another goon charged at you from the opposite side. You blocked it by grabbing his hand, going underneath, you punched him in the stomach. “Agh..!”

“Screaming your attack is very ineffective. Weren't you lot professionals?” You saw a small glimpse of the shining of a gun's metal. With quick reflexes, you throw one of the limited pieces of furniture from the palace you had been held hostage and threw it at him, rendering him immobile. “Cute try, but not good enough.”

You stood in the middle of the room full of bodies of men laying there in the ground either whining or crying out of pain. All this would have been avoided if they just decided to negotiate with you.

“Poor souls…”

…

“HAHAHAHAHA!” static cackling came from a ball on a table. It belongs to none other than the crown prince.

Cale looked at the prince like he had lost his mind. “...Why are you laughing?” Alberu looked up and stared at him through the crystal ball. Cale did not like that.

“Isn't it obvious?” He smirked, “clearly I think all of this is hilarious.”

Well no sh-t. Cale’s expression began to sour.

“Now, now, master Cale. Don’t look so distraught, [Name] is completely fine. In fact, I think she’s doing better than even I could have imagined,” he picture you beating the crap out of the kidnappers, much to his pleasure.

“Is that so…” Cale wanted to punch Alberu in the face. He just wanted to wipe that smirk off his mouth, even if it is a crime to do so. 

“Master Cale, if you would allow me?” Ron approached his master from the other side of the table.

“What is it, Ron?” Cale was as irked as he could be.

“I agree with the crowned prince,” Cale looked betrayed at Ron’s agreement on the situation. “Master Cale, [Name] is a talented individual. Surely, you should put some trust in her abilities.

“I’m also in support of this, [Name]’s prowess is no joke. She’ll make it home safe on her own,” Rosalyn commented.

“What the humans are saying is true,” Raon landed on Cale’s lap. “You can trust the Great Raon Miru’s judgment!”

“...” Cale closed his eyes. With all of this faith in you, he can’t ignore it.

“Fine.” He glared at Alberu. “But if she isn’t here by sunset, I'm sending Choi Han and Raon to get her.”

“That’s fine by me!”

With that, the call ended, and Alberu couldn’t stop from giggling at Cale’s worriedness for you.

“Ah… [Name], you’ve gotten yourself a worrywart as a husband.”

…

The sun had gone down a while ago, the birds went to rest, and the children had all gone to sleep on your shared bed. Yet, there was still no sign of you anywhere in sight.

Cale paced back and forth in the balcony, he did not enjoy worrying about someone's safety, much less yours.

“Master Cale.”

“Huh? Oh...Choi Han. Has there been any news?” He looked down and shook his head slowly. “I see… It’s getting late, you should head to sleep.”

“But, master Cale, who will–”

“I will.”

“...” Choi Han wanted to protest, yet he remained silent. He knew better than to argue with a stubborn man. “Yes, sir…” He left Cale with himself. 

Hearing a click from the door, Cale let out a frustrated sigh and scratched his head, annoyed at the situation at hand.

“...Where are you [Name]?” he whispered.

“I was gone for a day, and you missed me that much?”

“!” Cale twisted his body and faced the person that had spoken to him.

And it was none other than his lovely wife.

“Hi, Bo,” You smiled sweetly. “How are you?”

Cale sighted for what seemed like the 100th time this day. Only this time, it was out of relief. “I’m fine…” he said with a small smile.

“I’m glad…” You leaned and gave him a kiss on the check.

“Only there..?”

“Well, yes. I’m extremely hungry right now, and I want to eat,” with perfect timing, your stomach growled loudly.

“...” Cale’s eyebrow twitched at your response. He motioned his hand to look like a knife, and karate-chopped you in the head.

“OW–”

“I’ll go get Beacrox to prepare something for you. Wait here,” opening the door, he pointed at you. “And don’t. Move.” You giggled.

“Eye, eye, captain.”

With an approving nod he left in search of your meal.

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Master-List

[sorchathered]

Guilty Eyes and Little White Lies

Pairing-Bob Floyd x reader, Bob Floyd x Natasha Trace, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings-talk of sexual activity, language, drinking, adultery, angst

Summary- you’d thought you had the perfect marriage, what happens when you’re betrayed by the one you love most, and how do you piece yourself back together? Sometimes a little revenge isn’t a bad thing.

A/N- This one has been sitting in the vault for a while! Not my usual at all, but I’m feeling the angsty vibe lately and rolling with it!

———————————————————————————-

He truly hadn’t meant to let it get this far. The bird strike incident a few weeks ago had them both on edge, feeling their mortality and in a moment of weakness he’d let her kiss him. He’d blamed it on nerves, claimed it didn’t mean anything and continued to push down the gnawing feeling that it might be something more. Then the mission had happened, they’d nearly lost Maverick and then Bradley, and when everyone came back safely everyone had gotten a little too drunk on the carrier that night and he’d somehow found his way to her bunk. They’d fit together in a way that scared him, and when he woke up the next morning he looked down at her sleeping form and didn’t think of you once. But reality hit when they got home, and the wedding ring on his left hand felt like a 1,000 lb weight.

Bob Floyd had royally fucked up, he’d broken protocol by sleeping with his front seater, and the worst part of it all? He’d cheated on his wife. His sweet, beautiful, faithful wife who was waiting for him back in Lemoore. The one he’d sworn to love until he died, and it brought on another wave of nausea as he paced the floor of his barracks room just thinking about how far he’d let things go. He’d fallen for Natasha Trace in the weeks he’d been at Top Gun, he hadn’t meant to truly but she got under his skin in a way that he couldn’t shake. She knew he was married, knew what they were doing was wrong and had agreed to stay apart until he could figure out what to do, but seeing her every day made it more and more difficult to do the right thing. The right thing…the right thing would have been to end it immediately and tell you the truth right when it happened. The right thing would have been to request an immediate transfer back home after the mission ended, but he didn’t do that either. He’d been dodging your calls for days, making up excuses while he tried to find the right things to say, but he knew you were too smart to believe him. You knew something was wrong, and it wouldn’t be long before it all came toppling down.

——————————————————————

When you’d both been stationed at Lemoore two years ago it had been like a dream, finally in the stationed in the same place after years of long distance. You’d soaked up all the quality time, getting to work together every day and go home together every night had always been the goal and it had been everything you’d hoped for. Nothing is ever perfect though, and Jake Seresin was the very definition of throwing a wrench in the machine. He lived to rile Bob up, and nothing ruffled his feathers more than when Jake flirted with you. He always joked that you were far too good for Bob, that you needed someone wild to balance you out and keep you on your toes, you’d constantly shut his flirting down and asked him to be nicer to your husband and for a while Jake did back off. That is until he and Bob got called back to Top Gun for this mission, and most especially when his jabs had been confirmed, opening an empty conference room door one evening to find your husband pressed against Phoenix with her hand down his pants. After they’d been caught he had ended it, he hated himself for what he’d done but couldn’t bring himself to find the words to tell you the truth.

Bob knew there was no point in begging Jake to keep his mouth shut, so he simply asked to be able to explain to you himself. You’d been devastated, but not surprised. He’d been avoiding you for weeks, every time you’d discussed coming down for the weekend he’d claimed he had things to do and didn’t want to drag you down to San Diego just to sit in a barracks room. You’d held it together as best you could but you were furious, you’d never given him any reason to stray and to watch him throw 5 years down the drain for a woman he barely knew set a fire in you. So one Friday you packed an overnight bag and drove down to North Island, pulling into the unfamiliar apartment complex late in the afternoon. The ridiculous jacked up truck in front of the building told you he was home from work, and you made your way to his door still shaking with nerves despite feeling so confident all day. Jake Seresin in nothing but sweatpants was a sight to see, and the shock on his face was even better. He had texted you a few days before to make sure you were ok, offered you a place to crash if you decided to come down and discuss things with Bob in person, he certainly didn’t expect you to show up and had to say he was glad he got to reap the benefits of Bob’s shitty lapse in judgement.

“As happy as I am to see you Sweetheart, are you sure you’re up for all this? You don’t have to do this yet if you aren’t.”

“It needs to be done Jake, I need closure and I want to move on. So take me out to this bar you guys keep talking about, and let’s burn the rest of my marriage to the ground.”

——————————————————————

Just a few hours later you and Jake were perched at the bar, nice and tipsy and feeling lighter than you had in days. You knew Bob and Phoenix would be there soon and the thought suddenly had you white knuckling the bar stool, maybe you’d been too bold in thinking you could handle catching him in some other woman’s arms, maybe you weren’t as brave as you thought you’d been after all. Jake seemed to notice the shift in you, knocking his knee into yours to pull you out of your head. He gave you a wink and peeled your hands from the stool, taking them both in his.

“You sure you still want this? I am totally fine with us heading home with some ice cream and letting you cry it out, but I’m also down to kick his ass if you need me to. Whatever you want to do we’ll do it, just say the word and we’re out of here.”

You heard him before you saw him, the group of aviators from his squad calling his name and you knew it was too late to run. You shook your head, plucking Jake’s tequila shot from his hand and downed it, revenge was all you had left and you’d be damned if he took that from you too. Standing up and smoothing the material of the dress that was your husband’s favorite you backed yourself up against the bar, settling yourself between Jake’s legs and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Put your money where your mouth is Seresin, show me what I’ve been missing.”

——————————————————————

Meanwhile on the opposite side of the bar everyone is saying their hellos, none of the squad know what’s been going on behind the scenes and as far as they can tell it’s just a normal Friday night meetup. Phoenix is the first to notice that Hangman is missing from the crew, Rooster nodding towards the bar letting them know he’s on a date with some girl from out of town.

“Hangman has a girlfriend?! Since when?”

“Beats me, he just said she’d come down to visit for the weekend and he’d bring her over when she was up for it.”

Bob is clueless to it all, and offers to grab the next round as everyone sets the table up for a new game.

He’s settling into a bar seat with Phoenix to wait for their beers as she nods in your general direction.

“Well they look cozy, but I swear I’ve seen that girl before, she looks so familiar. Bob, have you seen her before? I feel like we know her.

He looks up towards the direction she’s pointed and it feels as if his world has been upturned. Because just across the bar from him is Lieutenant Jake Seresin with his tongue down his wife’s throat, bodies pressed together with a handful of your ass.

“I know exactly where you know her from Phoenix, that’s y/n. That’s my fucking wife.”

——————————————————————

Jake is having the time of his life if he’s honest, he’d always been fond of you but he had enough respect for the sanctity of marriage to keep his hands to himself. You’d always belonged to someone else, that is until Baby on Board had done exactly what he expected and fumbled the bag. He knew you were hurt and that his chances would be slim for a while, but he’d bide his time if that meant he got to hold you like this tonight. And if it helps satisfy your need for revenge? He certainly wouldn’t mind helping you out with that. He was just a philanthropic kind of guy after all. You were a little tipsy now, giggling while he kissed you and he decided to play up the game a little and slide a hand down to grope your ass. You yelped but leaned into his touch, and he had to keep reminding himself this was just a game, that you weren’t his and that he still had to win you over.

“Jakeeee, you’re gonna get us in trouble if you keep this up, I don’t want us catching an indecent exposure charge” you said a little breathlessly into his mouth, maybe this hadn’t been the best idea; you could definitely see the appeal, and as it turned out Hangman wasn’t just all talk- he was very good.

“Sweets if I had it my way we’d already be halfway to my bedroom, but I’ll save that for another night. ‘Sides it looks like we’ve struck that nerve you were looking for, your husband’s looking our way and I think he’s getting a taste of his own medicine.” Jake cocked his head in the direction of Bob and Phoenix, winking at them as he continued to press kisses into your neck.

“Oh-oh shit, maybe we should go outside before we start a bar brawl.” You were wide eyed as you pushed him back a little, but he could see you were still comfortable with him continuing the plan so he looped an arm around your waist and tossed a 50 on the bar as he led you towards the back exit.

——————————————————————

“What do you mean that’s your wife?! What is she doing here, and what is she doing with Seresin?”

Natasha is spiraling, meanwhile Bob can barely hear her. He can only hear the rush of blood in his ears and his heart thumping out of his chest, nausea rising up in his throat as he catches Jake’s eye. The motherfucking gall of Jake Seresin, he’d spent months jabbing at Bob about how you were too good for him and while it had stung he’d been confident that you’d never be interested in him, but now to see your body pressed to his, kissing someone else? It confirmed every fear he’d had, he absolutely deserves this; you’d given him everything and he’d burnt it down but damn if it didn’t hurt to watch you walk away in the arms of someone else.

“Nat- I can’t do this right now. Can you find a ride home? I need to talk to her, see if she’ll let me apologize in person.”

She looks hurt, but she knows damn well she has no reason to be, this is on the both of them and she has to respect whatever choices he makes.

Bob follows the path you and Jake took towards the back exit, no idea what he’s going to say or if you’ll even listen but his feet carry him anyways, into the balmy night air and across the lot where he can see the two of you talking.

—————————————————————————

“Alright pretty girl, had enough revenge for tonight? Think it’s about time we get you home.” Jake said with a grin as he ushered you towards the truck at the back of the parking lot, you were a little unsteady in your wedge sandals but it had felt good to let loose tonight. You didn’t give a shit what Robert Floyd thought of your behavior, you’d tried to be his everything for so long and knowing that he could throw it out the window so quickly just solidified that it had never had anything to do with you. Something in him was broken, he could have had a long lasting love and he took it for granted. You wrapped both arms around Jake’s bicep and leaned into him with a sigh; you didn’t know what this was with him but you definitely knew you weren’t ready to get your heart broken by another handsome face anytime soon. All you could hope was that he’d settle for friends in the meantime, but you couldn’t dwell on it now, because through the buzz of the alcohol you suddenly heard a voice you knew all too well calling your name above the crash of the waves. Of course he was, he couldn’t just let you have this one night to have the upper hand, he’d actively avoided you for weeks and the second someone else paid you attention he suddenly had something to say.

You went ramrod straight and froze, Jake turning slightly to see what had you so tense and scoffed as he watched Bob make his way towards you both. He tugged a little to shield you from Bob but you looked up at him and shook your head, you could handle this; there was no need to delay it like he had and you had plenty to say.

“Y/n, can I just have a minute-“

“You don’t deserve a second of her time Floyd and you know it.” Jake snapped, but the gentle touch of your hand on his arm gave him pause; it wasn’t his job to be the white knight and he knew damn well you could handle yourself, but he couldn’t help but want to shield you from anymore pain.

“I’ve got this Jake, give me some time ok? I’ll be back.” You squeezed his arm and stepped away, and you thought you saw pain flash over Bob’s features at the familiarity between you two, but he had no right and he knew it. You followed him down the rickety wooden ramp to the beach, the sound of the crashing waves filling the awkward silence.

“I’m sorry.” He said, so quietly you could barely even hear it, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he looked down at you, and all it did was make you see red.

“You're… Sorry? After shutting me out for weeks and then telling me what happened in an e-mail, you’re sorry? Well I’ll be, that’s gotta be the biggest pile of horse shit I’ve ever heard Bob.” You laughed, but it was harsh, it had him wincing from the coldness in your tone.

“You’ve got to be shitting me, I get an adrenaline rush, I get feeling your mortality, hell I’d even get it if you just kissed her. But you slept with her, you gave pieces of yourself to her that were only ever supposed to belong to me, and then to make it worse you hid it from me…for weeks! You have always been someone I considered to be honorable, and this? This betrayal? This is slimy. This is cowardly, and you fucking know it.”

You didn’t cry, you didn’t scream, you simply said your peace and when you looked back at him his eyes were full of tears and regret.

“I broke us, I know that. I’ve always known you deserved better, tried to be better, and I don’t have an excuse for any of it. I don’t know how I got here, I just know that I’m sorry. I ended it, we are just friends now, and I know that means shit to you but I’m trying. I just didn’t know if you’d even listen if I called, and then you came in tonight, with him and I realized just how much it hurt. God, seeing you with him- it makes me sick. I get it now, I get how much it must’ve hurt you. I know that’s why you did it, and I deserve it, I deserve it all. I don’t know where we go from here, but I don’t want you out of my life, I know it’s unfair to ask.” He couldn’t even look at you, it was infuriating to think that the man you loved had become this shell, a person you couldn’t even recognize.

“I wish you well Robert, I would never wish harm on you, but no. You clearly need to work on yourself, and so do I. Wherever that journey takes us, it’s not us against the world anymore. I don’t think I could ever look at you the same, and it’s not fair to ask me to try. I’ll speak with our lawyer, see if we can wrap this up as smoothly as possible, but there is no more us. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” You say with a sigh and a small tear rolls down your face before you can swipe it away, one last tear shed for the end of a life you’d always dreamed of. As you walked away from him and made your way back to the lot, you could hear his broken sobs, and you prayed whatever higher power existed would help him move past this, because you couldn’t stay.

Jake helped you get in the truck and the two of you drove in silence on the short trip back to his home, he could see you lost in thought so he let you drown in it for a few minutes until he pulled into the parking area. You swiped more stray tears, and then with a deep breath let your body sag into the plush leather of his f-150.

“You know why I was always on him about not being good enough for you?” Jake said quietly, causing you to turn and face him. You had always wondered, and begged him to stop more than once, he’d always said it was just fucking around but you had a suspicion it was something more.

“It wasn’t because I was trying to put a wedge between you two, well…maybe some of it was, but really it was because he never really saw you. It was always about him and you seemed sad, like you were ornamental, a box to be checked off on his list (and he did love to make lists), but never like he truly saw what he had. It drove me nuts, I’d kill for that, and I knew it was wrong, but I wanted it with you. And then when he fucked it all up I knew it would hurt you, but I couldn’t help but think that I could be the one to show you how much better you deserved to be treated. I can love you better, maybe not today, maybe not for a while, but I’ll wait y/n. You’re worth the wait.”

He looked wrung out from his confession, you knew he’d had some kind of schoolboy crush but it had never occurred to you that his feelings were genuine. He was the Hangman for gods sake, he’d always seemed like this larger than life flirt, why on earth would he be into some mousy little jag lawyer who was already married to one of his teammates? Maybe he was right, you did have a habit of putting yourself in small boxes to let Bob shine, he’d never asked you to but you’d done it anyway; you’d always put him first but he’d never thought to do the same.

“I’m not ready yet Jake, and I can’t promise I’ll be ready anytime soon. I’ve got to find me again, I don’t even know how I got here. But someday…someday I think I might like to know what it’s like to be loved by you. If you can wait for me, I’d really love that.”

He grinned at you and you couldn’t help but smile back, there was just something about him that lit you up in a way you’d never felt before. Friends would have to be enough for now, but someday you’d let yourself really appreciate just what it could be like to be truly loved.

——————————————————————————-

🏷️ Tagging- @attapullman @mynameismckenziemae @bobgasm @sebsxphia @roosterforme @seitmai @sailor-aviator

[pixeltwix]

{The Disconnect & The Spiral}

(I realize this isn’t my usual content, but hear me out, the rekindled GF fixation is going hard rn)

- -As an avid fan of Gravity Falls and an even bigger fan of the tragic old man lore packed into the mystery trio, I honestly gotta say..

I refuse to believe this is the full story towards WHY Fiddleford and his wife had a whole blasted argument over…him forgetting to get her a Christmas present?? Upon reading this section, I can frankly say I had a similar reaction to Ford. The immediate sense of, ‘really? That’s it? Your family reunion was torn up over that?’

I mean- your husbands been gone for lord knows how long, your young son also hasn’t seen him in ages, and let’s be honest- with how much trauma the ole hillbilly is stacking up on a day to day through his adventuring with Ford, how often is he actually able to call home or write a letter with a sound mind?

It just doesn’t feel feasible that a man who started this journey so troubled and in yearning to return home to family would be so forgetful as to not scrimmage up not even a souvenir or postcard from Gravity Falls for his family. So what is it then? Perhaps he’s become so averse to everything in the small town he wouldn’t dare bring a trace of it home with him, or rather, he truly had forgotten some small one off promise he made. Perhaps he’s forgotten a lot by this point-

Because of lack of dates on a majority of his entries it’s a little difficult to put together a timeline of when Fiddleford finished his memory wipe gun and when he started using it. By all means he racked up a lot of memories he wished to forget in the beginning being as quote ‘weak minded’ as he is. But then of course we all know he becomes addicted to quite literally erasing every little inconvenience until of course the end result. The freedom of a clear mind outweighing all consequences for him.

Instead however I choose to believe these were the first persisting side effects of his machine. We know enough about it now to get the fair suggestion that even one use of the memory wipe gun can be more damaging than can truly be discerned, so seeing as he quite possibly has used it at least twice by now- both events he used them for being extensive (the shifty incident and the gremloblin incident cited in journal 3) I believe it only fair to assume this quoted argument he got into with Emma-May was hardly over one measly little present. True, we have no frame of this woman much less the rest of the family (minus what we get of Tate once he’s grown), but I am TRULY giving her the benefit of the doubt in believing her husbands mind has begun to scatter in ways he didn’t even realize. So much to the point that a fight possibly fueled by ‘it’s not just about the Christmas present, it’s about ————“ would truly confuse him

I say that in the kindest way, I love Fiddleford, truly he’s the most tragic character in my mind regarding this story, but the man’s self destruction and drift from his family had to have started somewhere. And just like any addiction that can tear a family apart, this one was definitely packing punches. I realize I don’t have much backing, and I’m really just rambling some nonsense, but Alex Hirsch just doesn’t feel like one to write a one off ‘oh by the way this silly reason is why Fidds is alone from his family for the holidays, something he clearly holds a deep fondness for’. Nah, that man is too cryptic for him to write something like that and for me to not overthink it <3

(But with all that said and done- dear god the snow globe cabin and the knitted six fingered gloves literally killed me- that hillbilly is such a damn sweetheart, it can almost make me ignore the doom that will befall him and the town <3!!)

[stsgluver]

tags. criminal mind!au, gojo x reader, unestablished relationship, mentions of blood, slight angst

"stop hovering."

there had to be at least two dozen emergency staff buzzing around you, ranging from medical to the fbi. everyone had a role to play in aiding the injured and ensuring no one else died tonight.

your job, for the most part, was complete. you'd profiled and detained the unsub and, although the adrenaline racing through your body had you on high alert still, you were more than ready to climb into your hotel bed.

"gojo," you called out the name of your white-haired colleague after he didn't respond to you. he wasn't listening, too focused on the movements of the paramedic who was sterilising the cuts on your arm and forehead. luckily, you didn't require any stitches. "satoru."

his first name, which you ever so rarely used while on duty, had him at least making eye contact with you. he wasn't injured but he definitely needed to shower - there was dirt staining his face and hair.

"i’m fine," you repeated for what felt like the millionth time. you loved your team, you really did, but you all worked the same dangerous job that came with the same dangerous risks. you came out of the ordeal as unscathed as you possibly could've been and while you were grateful for their concern, there needn't be any.

“barely," gojo muttered, electric blue eyes tracing the cut on your forehead that had yet to be cleaned, the blood still staining your skin.

you lightly shook your head, "that’s an exaggeration."

that set gojo out of whatever daze he'd been in as he frowned at you. "is it? what if i’d been another thirty seconds?"

out of everyone on the team, gojo was your favourite for several reasons. whilst yes, there was the obvious closeness between the two of you as your similar age had meant you'd quickly become close friends, there was also his attitude. it was rare that you ever saw gojo so serious, always finding a way to lighten up the mood no matter how dark or twisted your job gets.

this, however, was not lightening any mood, and you felt a pang of guilt that you were the cause of his unease.

"but you weren’t," you countered softly, trying not to sound like you were arguing or dismissing his worry.

you'd entered the building alone - inside was the unsub and a hostage and no one else would be on site for at least a few more minutes. the kidnapped girl did not have that time so you risked it.

after an altercation with the unsub, the hostage had managed to run free but you'd been left pinned down on the ground with a gun pointing at your forehead. no amount of negotiating could talk them through the psychological break they were experiencing so it was very likely that had gojo not shown up and put a bullet through him that you may died tonight.

but he did show up. he always did.

"yaga didn’t give you clearance."

"i know he’s already lectured me." it was exactly what you had wanted as gojo had helped you out of the building. he'd even stood by you as yaga spoking, supporting most of your weight as you'd twisted your ankle. "i don’t need to hear it twice."

"don’t you? i-" gojo stopped himself for a moment, running his hands through his hair as he so often did when he was frustrated. "we could’ve lost you." you felt bad for the poor paramedic who probably just wanted to get their job done and not have to listen to your quarrel.

"i’m fine satoru." you felt like a broken record.

your insistence wasn't enough for him to overcome his anger towards you and you had to fight off any tears as you watched him storm off into the crowd of people around you.

[stargirl-in-dilfspace]

Comfort(ers) & Sheets - Joel Miller x Reader [Drabble]

[moodboard for moodboards sake can easily be read as game or hbo joel <3]

warnings/themes: allusions to sex, no smut, fluff, lots of romance/love, pov swap, implied plot, it’s sweet & short that’s it.

a/n: just a quick drabble based on a thought I had at 11pm when I should’ve definitely been sleeping. thoughts loved and appreciated if you enjoy <3

————————————————————

You could spend every late Sunday morning all wrapped up in the huge white comforter you’d invested in when you moved into this house from trading.

Specifically under it, with your very sleepy husband sprawled out on his side of the bed, as you lay, naked (Joel had made sure of that the night before) your stomach pressed against the mattress, your fingers tracing down his face, over his nose. His scars.

The cool summer breeze from the morning seeps in with the dim sunlight, the warmth and coolness all at once of the oversized, stuffed blanket makes you want to lie there forever.

He doesn’t stir. Not anymore. When he knows you’re there he stays still, content even in his sleep.

You slip out of bed, only a loose sheet wrapped around you, opening the back patio door and settling in a rocking chair he’d built for you. You watch the trees behind your home, in the warm sun, your body sore and relaxed all at once. You took pride in that, even if Joel didn’t believe you. He made you feel like you could just…melt, soak into the dark ground and dig your way right back out just for him again.

“Sugar…” Joel all but spoke loudly as he leaned on the doorframe, he’d been there for a few minutes now, but he wouldn’t tell you that. In his mind, when he got to watch you think, about anything, he’d been blessed by some divine grace to have you.

“Honey.” You smile, turning enough to see him.

“Still early…come back to bed?” He offers, his tone convincing, always too convincing.

“We have a day to start.” You remind him, as he leans down to take up your hand, letting you make sure the sheet that covered you was wrapped still. You’d shown him every piece of you, and every second of that he wanted more. But until he had you safe and comfortable…that piece of you only he got, stayed hidden to the world, and to him.

“The day can wait on us.” He replies simply, picking you up completely as he carries you back in, and you shut the patio door.

————————————————————

Your soft breath. That’s what he listens to. It’s the same as a heartbeat to him. It means you’re alive, and still here with him, sheet left to the floor, the same with your clothes, to be found when you meet the day. His eyes watch your resting face, pensive but restful nonetheless. His right hand snakes into your hair and out, a repeated motion, his left placed over yours, on his bare chest. He’d managed it again. Managed to keep the most beautiful and most precious thing in his life in his bed, sure, with his head buried deep between your thighs, and a slow and sleepy push back into sleep.

But he likes it that way. He’d stay like this for an eternity if he could, ignorant to every sin and deformity that is the world now, mapping out every inch he could of you, instead of escape routes and patrol paths.

He wanted every piece of you, just the way you are.

His eyes are tired but the last thing he wants to do is sleep. He watches his calloused hands, destroyed by the grips of countless guns and weapons.

He should marry you again.

Even with the years that take a toll on both of you now, years that you can let show on your faces and bodies, he wants to be smooth like a whiskey on a bar with a new finish, soft like a shower, washing the dirt from your body after a long day, a relief to you the way a breath of fresh air feels after the restriction of a gas mask. Those are the things he strives, no, begs some higher power to be.

Even in his dying breath, he is yours. That’s all he knows.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

ruthless hero who destroys everyone verbally, doesnt take shit + chatty villain who just grins and loves banter(if its not too much) have a great day!

The hero swallowed.

Although the gun was shaking in their hand, they took in a deep breath and steadied their mind. No time for second thoughts.

This was it. They’d been searching for the villain for weeks now. They’d finally found them and they were not going to let them escape again.

“Oh?” the villain asked. They eyed the hero carefully, as if the hero was the object of their attention instead of the gun. They were sitting on the couch in their lair with all the casualness in the world. “Aren’t you a little too confident for your own good, darling?”

“Aren’t you?”

The villain cocked their head and the grin followed as so often. They stood up slowly and raised their hands but despite their actions of surrender, they were clearly mocking the hero.

“Mhmm. That’s how it is, I see. How spunky you can be…”

Determined, the hero took their handcuffs and threw them into the villain’s direction. Even though the villain seemed to be more confused than intrigued, they caught and inspected them.

“Cuff yourself,” the hero said.

“Gosh, you can be so kinky.”

“And you’ll be bleeding out in a few seconds if you don’t do as I say.” Their grip around the gun tightened. It didn’t matter that the villain had saved them so many times. It didn’t matter that they were occasionally nice.

It didn’t matter because the hero had a job to do.

They had to arrest them.

The villain rolled their eyes.

“All bark, no bite.”

“Would you like to find out? I recall breaking your arm pretty easily,” the hero said. They were aiming at the villain’s shoulder and slowly, very slowly, their anxiousness faded. It was a job like every other.

A villain, just like all the others.

Shooting at them in this moment seemed irrational. They weren’t a threat nor were they extraordinarily provoking them. Of course the hero knew it would be difficult to explain to the team how the villain had surrendered without much of a struggle.

They had to find a solution to that later.

“Mistakes happen in the heat of the moment. I understand you were distracted by my muscles flexing during the fight.” The villain was in a good mood, as so often. But the hero could also sense some sort of uncertainty.

It was in the movement of their fingers that traced the handcuffs. In their restless eyes that went over the hero again and again. If they wanted to admit it or not, the hero had surprised them.

And that was something the villain absolutely despised. Surprises. Not being in control. Not knowing what happens next.

“I can assure you it was intentional. Your muscles aren’t that special.”

“Ouch.” The villain contorted their face as if they were truly hurt. The mockery should’ve made it easier. But it didn’t.

The hero turned off the gun’s safety.

“Handcuffs. Now.”

“Fine.” The villain cuffed themselves, one wrist after the other. Once they were finished, they stretched their arms out and presented themselves. “Am I not the sweetest present?”

“The most annoying, definitely. Sit down.” The villain did as the hero commanded and leaned back, pushing their hips forward. Lounging like that was definitely not what the hero wanted them to do.

They’d been chasing the villain for weeks and they were determined to put them behind bars. Whatever had happened in the past, it was gone now. The hero had let go of it and could only pray the villain had done that too.

“We’ll wait here until my team arrives.”

“I suppose that’s enough time for me to escape. You know you love our little hide-and-seek game.” Their smile was genuine and sweet. The hero didn’t know what to make of that.

“No, this is it. It’s over. I can’t let you go.”

“But you will. You’re still so soft for me.”

“You’re really not as important to me as you think.” Then why are you hesitating?

“You’re not as cold as you think,” the villain said. “Not when it comes to me.”

They jiggled with the handcuffs. The hero could hear their own pulse.

“Just tell your team it was a good fight and I escaped, hm? Just like last time,” the villain suggested. Sweat was running down the hero’s back. Their fingers were ice cold.

“I cannot do that.”

“You’ve done it before, darling,” the villain said. “As long as I can walk, I can still escape. You know I’m skilled enough to do that.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I enjoy my time with you,” the villain said. They looked at the ground. “…and I still have feelings for you.”

The hero felt sick in their stomach.

“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Suddenly, the hero lowered their gun and pulled the trigger. They couldn’t let them escape again. They couldn’t put their own feelings before their responsibilities. As soon as they pulled the trigger, they regretted it.

Their heavy heart sank fast.

They hoped one day they could forget the villain’s reaction when the bullet entered their knee. That stare of utter fear and betrayal. That scream and those tears of pain.

But that would haunt them forever.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Date Night

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Black!Nurse Reader

Warnings: mdni, mentions of sex, jokes about age.

Main Masterlist

WC: 1.3k

✧༺♥༻∞

Being at the Avengers Compound on your day off used to be weird. Avengers are cool and all, and you’re very appreciative for the chance to be considered ‘part of the team’ even if you only worked in the Medbay. No one wants to hang around their place of work when they don’t need to be. Then you started seeing a certain blue-eyed brunette super soldier.

So here you are walking through the main hallways to the the gym and passing a good amount of agents and techs enjoying their breaks. Then you hear your name being called. You look up from your phone and see Aaliyah, a friend of yours that works in the special equipment department (aka Avengers Weapons Only). You walk up to the cafe where her and some other work mates like to frequent.

“Hey Liyah, I didn’t know you were working today.”

She brings you in for a side hug. “I know, I’m not supposed to be, but Mr. Wilson just had to call me on my day off about fixing redwing.” Her cool demeanor shudders as the Falcon’s name coasts out of her lips.

You smirk. “I think he would prefer if you just called him Sam or your boyfriend. Your pick.”

She covers her face and shakes her head. “How about we talk about why you’re here on your day off? The Medbay is about 6 floors up and on the other side of campus.”

“Hey, I’m completely fine with saying I’m here for my man.” 

The light cockiness in your voice paints a mischievous grin on her lips. “Oh speaking of your boyfriend, does Barnes know how to use a pc- no a toaster- nope a smartphone?”

“Oh fuck off, is that what yall actually think?” You scoff as a people 10ft away from you shake their heads. “No fucking way, you can’t be serious!”

“Girl half of these people have never even seen him in person and they work in the same building he lives in.” Kyla, another nurse, says from the end of the table.

You roll your eyes and look at Aaliyah. “For real?” She nods her head.

“You know he wasn’t frozen for 70 years straight right? He couldn’t be a spy if he didn’t know how to blend in.” 

“How does he work a phone with the metal arm though?” She asks as someone comes up behind her.

“He has a flip phone, gotta remember he’s an old man.” Sam chuckles as she jolts out of her skin.

“You asshole! I told you to wait downstairs.” He shrugs and throws an arm around her. 

“You said you’d be back by 2:30, now I’m a punctual man baby. I waited a whole 5 minutes before tracking you down.” She buries her face in his chest to hide how he flustered her with the pet name. So cute.

“You should be going too, the old man has not stopped talking about you since we got here. I swear I’m gonna ask for a new mission partner.” You smile then hug them goodbye.

The walk from the break center/ cafeteria to the weapons testing arena and gym is a 5 minute straight shot. It also where you’d more times than not find your boyfriend. In the miniscule chance that he isn’t, you could probably find him in a conference room, with Captain Rogers outside lapping civilians or his suite. The kitchen exactly because those soldiers can eat. 

But the second those sliding doors open to his personal gun range, you see him just like you knew you would. He sat on a stool at a table with his muscular back adorned in a form fitting black henley and black jeans that emphasized his ridiculously thick thighs. His neck length brown hair is tied up in an adorable blue silk scrunchie as he dissembles his favorite rifle to clean it. You lean against the door frame just admiring the man’s beauty for a while more. He most definitely knows your behind him thanks to his enhances senses and experience as a spy, but that would not stop you from-

“Enjoying the view pretty girl?” Exactly, he gets it.

You smile and walk up to him, “absolutely.” You hum hugging his back and tracing your short almond acrylics across his abdomen.

A strong warm hand covers yours as he chuckles, a deep almost gravely laugh that electrifies every cell in your body. “I’ll be done in a couple minutes, then we can go.” 

You watch from over his shoulder the way his hands work in tandem to polish each nook and cranny of the gun. His vibraninum fingers curling around the body of it cause a shiver down your spine as you think about the nights you spend withering in his bed thanks to them. You shake those thoughts away and lay your head on his shoulder.

He brings one of your hands up and places his soft lips to your knuckles. “Fuck you smell so good. I knew you were coming before you hit the door.” He groans extending the kiss to your wrist before placing your hand back on his stomach.

“It’s your favorite, and you haven’t even seen the whole outfit yet.” 

He lets out another one of those heavenly chuckles. “Aw baby, did you get all dressed up for me?” The gun clicks shut and you feel yourself spinning around to face him.

“You like?” He takes your hand and you beam as he spins your once more. 

Since you were just going to a drive in movie, you paired a simple black top with your his favorite pair of dark gray baggy jeans that hug your waist and accentuate your ass just the way he likes. You couldn’t go wrong with some gold jewelry that shines beautifully on your brown skin. The whole look complimented itself.

Your 4c hair on the other hand didn’t want to cooperate this morning, the week old braid out was at its wits end and desperately needs all the mousse and gel washed out of it. So you did what you had to, found a giant hair tie, slicked your edges back and finger coiled a few strands in the front to give the look back some of it’s life. 

He nods biting his lip and looking you up and down. “You look just how you smell: decadent, like one of those death by chocolate cakes you love. And like you want to spend the rest of this weekend in my bed naked.” He smirks.

You hook your arms around his neck, step into the spot between his strong legs. “Well Mr. Barnes, we can’t have that. You promised me dinner and movie and the look’s not complete yet.” 

He raises a brow and dips his face to yours. “Oh yea,” he says huskily. “What could possibly be missing? You already have the body glitter.” The takes an imaginary bite out of your glazed arm. You nod at the leather jacket hanging on the hook by the door and he grins instantly.

“Go walkin’ around in that and everyone will know you’re mine.” He growls, his crystal blues deepening in hue flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want.” You whisper against his lips tilting your head to connect them to yours.

His soft lips melted into yours perfectly, your hands pull on the hair tie locking away his silky locks and gently pull at them. He groans languidly licking into your mouth and swiftly lifting you into his lap, his hands holding firmly on your ass. Just like that it feels like the first time. Your heart beating heavily against your chest while you learn each other mouths. Tugging at his roots a bit more you nip his bottom lip and smile.

“You love playing with fire love.” 

You cheekily chuckle pulling back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He squeezes your cheeks then playfully smacks one inciting a gasp from you. “A dangerous, dangerous game that could cost you your night.”

“Aw but my favorite movie is playing.” Your fake pout morphs itself into a smirk. “Or maybe I wanted to makeout with my hot Brooklyn boyfriend in public without anyone knowing.” He bites his lip as you look at him with siren eyes.

“And people wonder why I can’t stop talking about you, my girl is a damn minx. Fuck it, lets go.” He sighs as you jump off his lap and grab his leather jacket.

While he’s securely putting away his rifle, you look over at him and smirk putting on the jacket. “Thanks daddy.”

His eyes go wide as you walk out the door giggling.

Gotta love date night.

♥*♡∞:｡.｡

AN: I was missing the character that brought me back to my passion, so this was really for me but yall can enjoy it too xox

as always likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Fly by Moonlight

CW: Vaguely fantasy, hunting, possessive whumper referenced, bullet wound, guns, blood, makeshift surgery, implied dehumanization, scarring

Chapter One

-

The sky above them was an explosion of stars. With her head tilted back until it tipped against the sleeping bag, providing her the barest protection from simple dirt, she could see the Milky Way itself, winding its ghostly way from one horizon to the other. It was funny, to think that she was a part of that winding, sinuous length of endless light. 

The people who think they came from stars, she thought, must have been people who thought highly of themselves. There was nothing more incredible than this, and it seemed impossible to understand how something as amazing as stardust could coalesce into the reality of wind rushing through leaves around their campsite, the simple beauty of her own heartbeat and blood.

Alongside the universes she could imagine above her, the moon hung heavy and full. Supermoon time, it was so much larger than usual, blocking some of the stars when Anaya tried to find them. 

The moon, she thought, felt like what it was - a piece of earth thrown into space by asteroid impact. Like a mother who loses the grip of her child’s hand, and all of history had been the story of their slow reconciliation. Or maybe of the child running, always staying just ahead of her mother’s reach.

Anaya Cross laced her fingers together behind her head, her heavy, dark hair providing as much softness as any pillow. Beside her, in another sleeping bag, her boyfriend Eden had long since fallen asleep. His heavy, soft breathing and the sight of his ash-blond hair falling over his forehead was another kind of peace. Eden only slept well in the wilderness, and Anaya never slept well at all. 

Even if she didn’t sleep much, here, she could rest by watching the stars. Her eyes traced a constellation, catching on the edge of the corona borealis and following its C-shaped swing from one end to the other. 

Then, she heard a sound.

It was a faded sort of boom, as if someone in the park had set off a huge firework, one of those big mortar kinds Anaya had been terrified of as a child and still avoided today. She frowned, shifting uneasily and pushing herself up a little onto her elbows.

At first all she heard was the wind, the soft whispering of the leaves.

Then it happened again.

Boom.

Anaya took in a quick breath and sat up fully, head tipped to one side. This time, the sound was followed by a high-pitched squeal, almost a scream, but totally inhuman. Anaya’s breath caught, and she scrambled to push herself out of the sleeping bag, leaning on her knees over to shake Eden’s shoulder. “Eden-... Eden! Wake up!”

Eden groaned, slapping ineffectually at her hand, before his eyes finally blinked slowly open. They looked fogged over, still half-asleep, but he moved to sit as Anaya popped up to standing. “Wh-... what’sit?” It was all one run-on sound, hardly language. “Naya? What’ss… what time’sit?”

“I don’t know,” She answered, shifting forward slowly. Between the stars and the moon, the night around them was nearly as bright as daylight, only with a cool, almost blue tint to everything around them. “I heard something. Like a-... like a gunshot. I think. From a really fucking big gun.”

“You heard-...” Eden’s brain was still struggling to come online. He raked a hand back through his hair, leaving it standing up in wild chunks all over his head, before he started wiggling his way out of his sleeping bag, too. He stood, scratching at his stomach underneath his ratty old t-shirt, gray sweatpants hanging low on narrow hips. “A gunshot? Here? But-”

“Protected reserve, I know. But I definitely heard it. Do you think…” She trailed off. All she heard now was the wind, rushing through the trees. Only-... was it only the wind? Or was there a discordant note, crashing of something desperate running for its life?

Boom.

This time she could see Eden heard it too, his eyes widening. The sound was closer, louder, more immediate. Anaya and Eden’s gazes met, and then without a word spoken the two of them half-ran, half-walked as one to the edge of the clearing and away from the obviousness of their campsite. Eden’s car was parked at the camp lot a three-hour hike away, and they were deep within a part of the reserve no one was supposed to go to. It had seemed romantic, when they came here and chose this space, carefully marking their trail to ensure they could make it back. It had seemed like a way to get away from it all and really find peace, let Eden get some real sleep.

Now, though, it seemed to hit Anaya all at once that coming out here - alone, with only her boyfriend, with no one really aware of where they’d gone other than ‘camping’ - had been monumentally, impossibly stupid.

Anaya crouched down behind a tree, keeping the campsite in view. Woods like these could get you lost within a few feet of where you’d been, the trees so close together that they hid you from your own trail unless it was well-marked. Eden moved to be just slightly in front of her, shielding her a little.

Not that it would matter against a gun that could make a sound like that.

“Poacher?” She whispered. 

“Probably,” He whispered back. Now the crashing seemed close, and Eden’s body was warm against hers even as both of them were shivering. “But what is there even to hunt here? You can find deer anywhere in this stupid state, you don’t need-”

The answer to his question came flying out of the woods in front of them.

A huge wolf that somehow still looked half-grown and spindly, with too-long legs and giant paws, flashed through their campsite in a reddish-gray gleam lit by moonlight. Until it tripped over Anaya’s cooler full of beer and went tumbling, high-pitched whimpers and whines filling the air. Anaya jerked forward when she realized the cooler now had a red smear along the white lid, but Eden grabbed her arm to pull her back out of sight. 

“It’s bleeding!” Anaya hissed. “That poacher shot it! We should go help!”

Eden’s grip only tightened. “It’s not a dog,” He hissed back. “It’ll just attack you. Not to mention the poacher will shoot you, too. Just stay here, Naya!”

The wolf stood on shaking legs, a low soft whine in its throat. The light of the moon seemed to turn the tips of its red fur to silver, reflected in its strangely human-looking eyes. Anaya blinked at the sight of scarring around its snout, like something had been wrapped there at some point until it dug in. It limped to the edge of the clearing, tumbling hard to one side before righting itself. Blood streamed from one back leg, clumping the fur and leaving a dark stain. 

The wolf’s tongue hung from its mouth and it panted heavily even as it tried to lick at the blood and the wound beneath it, ears pricked and moving constantly. Its tail was tucked between its legs. Its nose went to the ground, picking up the scents of Anaya and Eden probably, and Anaya shivered when it growled.

The low rumble was more frightening than the sound of the gun.

At least the gunshots hadn’t been about her.

After a long pause, the wolf’s growl ended. It did what Anaya could only call taking a deep breath to steady itself, and then limped heavily away, out of the clearing in the general direction of the main hiking trails where Anaya and Eden had started their hike out here. Its nose stayed low, and Anaya heard Eden let out a breath in a rush once it was out of sight.

“Uh… what do we do now-”

Anaya clapped her hand over Eden’s mouth, shushing him and yanking him further back around the tree trunk.

The man with the gun - and holy shit, Anaya didn’t even know they made guns that big - stepped into the clearing, taking in the sight of the destroyed campsite smeared with wolf blood with a baffled, incredulous expression. He wasn’t too much older than them, maybe in his thirties, but he had a hardness to his jaw that said whatever his age, the years had definitely sucked the life out of him.

“Well… shit.” The man huffed, moving forward and using the muzzle of his gun to nudge the blood-stained cooler, lifting up the sleeping bag Eden had been in only a few moments ago. He ran a hand back over his crew cut, looking around. “Hey! Is anyone here? Anyone hurt?” The sound of concern in his voice seemed real. 

But Anaya and Eden were alone, in the woods, in the middle of nowhere. And this guy had an enormous fucking gun. They stayed silent, in the dark.

“God damn it.” The poacher sighed, looking down at the sleeping bags. “Shit shit shit. If he killed somebody… that little shit. Fucking campers on our land. Bet he chased them off. I’ll have to call Bill and report it. He’s gonna kill me when he sees Rusty got out, let alone that he made a mess out of campers… if they find bodies on our land again, we are going to have the government up our fucking ass…”

He pulled out a compass and looked at it, then looked ahead, eyes scanning the ground. He must have seen some of the wolf’s blood on a leaf in some underbrush, because he moved forward confidently then. He went through the clearing, from one side to the other, and then was gone. 

Anaya and Eden waited until the sound of the man moving through the forest had faded into the distance, and then looked at each other. 

“... Did we go too far and end up on private land?” Anaya asked.

At the same time, Eden said, “Did he say ‘if they find bodies on our land again?’”

Both of them stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Then, as if they’d come to some agreement that didn’t need words, they moved out to the wreckage of the campsite. Anaya rolled up the sleeping bags while Eden checked on the small cooler, wiped the rest of the blood off of it with a shudder, and then shifted it back into the heavy pack he’d carried out here. Anaya felt the tension rising between them, until it was tight enough it might snap. Her heart pounded so hard it found its way up her throat, making her occasionally stop to catch her breath. The two of them pulled their socks on and then laced up their hiking boots after. Neither even bothered to dress in daytime clothing. Their sweatpants and t-shirts seemed like enough, for now. 

The hike back was silent and slow.

They put one foot carefully in front of the other, following the markings Anaya had left wrapped around trees in non-obvious places. She undid each and every colorful ribbon, packing them back away. Taking back everything they’d brought with them. No sign they’d ever been here at all, ideally.

She found herself wondering where the park ended and private land began. There’d been no signs, no warnings. Not any that they saw, anyway. Then again, it’s not like you could mark every square inch of a wild forest like this one.

Above them, the moon hung heavy. When its light cut through the canopy overhead, it made everything otherworldly and beautiful.

If only Anaya could appreciate it, and not take every quiet step sure she’d see the end of a gun between her eyes the moment she looked up.

At some point, they got close enough to the trail for cell phone signal to come back, and her phone buzzed with a handful of missed messages. Nothing that suggested anything big had happened while they were out of reach. She didn’t dare check it - not yet. Not until she felt sure that the light from her screen wouldn’t draw in either an injured, probably hostile wolf and a healthy, definitely hostile guy with a gun.

She kept cycling her thoughts back to the sight of the thing. Something had been off about it, but she didn’t know enough about guns to even begin to know what. Hell, she didn’t know enough about guns to even know if anything was actually off, or if she was just thinking of movie-guns and not understanding that the real thing was different.

Exhaustion dragged at the edges of her mind, even as adrenaline kept her so wired that she knew she couldn’t possibly have fallen asleep even if they simply laid down right here. Hours passed, Eden and Anaya saying little to each other. They heard the boom just once more, far enough away that they felt themselves finally able to relax.

Wherever the guy had tracked the injured wolf, it wasn’t in the direction they were going. 

Finally, they stumbled back out onto the trail. 

Anaya checked her phone, as surreptitiously as she could.

It was almost three in the morning, and they had another good two hours of hiking on the trail before they got to the parking lot. 

“I say we sleep in the car,” Eden said, voice heavy and husky. When Anaya glanced over at him, his half-lidded eyes reminded her of a sleepy kitten, and she found herself smiling, briefly overwhelmed with love for him. He frowned back at her. “What?”

“You’re cute,” She said. He shook his head and started walking again, but she caught the edge of his smile before he turned to hide it from her.

“Pretty sure the T was supposed to make me handsome, not cute,” He said over his shoulder as he started walking again.

Anaya had to stifle a laugh - talking might be okay, might be safe, but laughter carried further. Especially Anaya’s laughter, which had a tendency to be too loud, according to her mother. Too loud, attention-taking. Just like all her emotions. “Well, you’re definitely handsome,” Anaya said brightly, falling in behind him. “You’re just also cute. You were handsome before the T, too, by the way.”

He didn’t say anything, but his shoulders straightened a little, and she caught the edge of a flush to his cheeks.

Her feet ached by the time they had Eden’s car in view, the ancient Subaru with its huge trunk thanks to the removed backseat a white gleam in the pinkish light of early dawn. The moon was still visible, just now beginning to fade as sunlight overtook it, wiped it out. Each throb was in time with her pulse, and Anaya’s brain seemed to have become mush at some point.

They could sleep in the back of Eden’s car, if they made it to a safe parking lot or something in town. Maybe the diner where they had parked before they came up here, those people had seemed pretty cool about it. 

Eden came to a sudden stop, and Anaya walked into him so hard the two of them both stumbled, Eden with a huffed breath, an oof that any other day would have been funny. But now Anaya just groaned. It better not be the poacher having found them. She was too damn tired to deal with that, or even be scared of it anymore.

At least if he shoots me I can get some damn rest, she thought.

Out loud, she only mumbled, “What?”

Eden swallowed. Anaya could hear it. Something about that woke her back up all at once, sent brand new adrenaline flooding through her. Her head began to pound in time with her feet and her heart. Would anything not hurt by the end of today?

“There’s something under our car,” Eden said, voice hushed. 

Anaya stiffened. “The wolf?”

Eden took one step forward, and then another. He squinted. “... No. I think it’s… a person.”

“A what?”

Who would be out here? Thanks to flooding on the more well-known trails, this park had been more or less empty of tourists. It was one of the reasons Eden and Anaya had chosen this for their off-trail campsite. Eden moved slowly forward, and Anaya followed him. Once she got closer, though, she moved more quickly, dropping her bag next to the car and moving into a crouch.

The sound of her pack hitting the pavement made the boy curled up under the car flinch, his arms jerking to cover his head with his hands, knees nearly to his chin. Anaya caught a glimpse of reddish-brown hair through his fingers, a swath of pale skin marked with brown freckles at the shoulders, the tip of his nose.

“Hello?” Anaya whispered, reaching slowly out. Her fingertips just touched the boy when his eyes snapped open and he looked at her with wild, animal terror.

His eyes were the same color as the wolf’s. 

His hair was the same color as the wolf’s fur had been, reddish brown, maybe tipped with some gray.

His left leg had a wound blown right through it - bullet wound, Anaya thought a little wildly, I’m looking at the entrance and the exit’s at the back, he’s lucky it didn’t hit the artery there - and the blood was… everywhere.

The boy’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a useless snarl. His teeth were flat, human, except for maybe his incisors being a little too long, a little too sharp. He had scars marked across his face, around his neck, all over his arms. Some old, simply silk-soft skin marked in risen lines, some fresher, still bright red. A couple even looked like they’d been bleeding recently, too. He made a sound that Anaya only realized after a beat was an attempt to growl.

“... This is the wolf,” Anaya said, voice low. “Eden… Eden, this is the wolf.”

“What? No. That’s clearly a dude. The poacher must have seen him and shot him.”

“No, this is-... his eyes Eden-”

“That’s not a wolf, Naya. End of story. That is a dumbass teenager who did dumbass things. Somebody’s probably looking for him.”

Anaya thought of the poacher’s confusion, his angry concern. “... Yeah, somebody probably is.”

Eden dropped into a crouch beside her, casually pulling out the knife he always had on him, flicking it so the blade showed. “Naya, something’s wrong with this kid.”

The boy’s eyes went to the gleam of sharp metal and he whined, curling up tighter. Anaya frowned, looking at his leg. The blood. The wound. The way the boy’s skin was ash-pale under his freckles. The scars, half of them rough but the other half precise.

Knife-blade scars. She had some old ones herself, although hers had been self-inflicted.

She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, felt it trembling under her touch. She could barely reach him, he was so far under the car. “Hey.” She gentled her voice as much as she could, rubbing lightly. Goosebumps rose where her fingertips went, but the trembling seemed to settle a little. “Hey, kid. You’re… you’re really hurt. We’re gonna call someone-”

The boy scrambled backwards away. “No!” His voice came out hoarse, as if he wasn’t used to speaking - or speaking with a human mouth, anyway. “No! Don’t! Don’t call!” He made it to the other side of the car, scrambling to his feet. Anaya went to chase him, but in the end she didn’t have to - as soon as he tried to put weight on his leg, he went down hard, scraping the palms of his hands on the pavement and letting out a pained cry.

Anaya swallowed. “Eden-”

“I’ll call 911-”

“No,” she whispered. “He’s scared of that. Let’s just… let’s just put him in the back of the car, yeah?”

Eden paused. “Naya, are you fucking out of your mind? Where are we gonna take him? He needs a hospital.”

“Or a vet clinic,” She muttered, ignoring the look Eden gave her at the dark joke. “No, let’s just. Okay, let’s just… we have our first aid kit. You know how to do stitches-”

“Stitches, sure, but I’m not exactly qualified to treat wounds like that.”

“Try. Let’s get him into the car. Hey, kid? Kid, hey.” Anaya went to the crumpled heap of teenager, grasping onto his arm. He shivered and tried weakly to pull away, but between the pain and the blood loss, he wasn’t exactly able to put up much of a fight. Eden opened the trunk of the car and threw in their packs while Anaya helped the boy to stand. She could hear Eden laying down the towels and sleeping bags, opening up the first aid kit.

That’s why she loved him. He might think she’d lost her mind on this, but he’d still follow her lead.

The injured boy gripped onto her once he was upright, his eyes dancing in terror from Eden to Anaya and back again.

“Don’t,” He whispered. “Don’t.”

“We’re just going to get you bandaged up and something to eat,” Anaya said, voice soothing, easing him into the trunk until he could lay down in there. “Then we can talk, okay? First off, we need to stop the bleeding.”

Those odd eyes stared at her, but he laid down on his side slowly. Anaya had been vaguely aware the boy was naked, but only now did it hit her that the boy didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care. 

“I’m Anaya,” She said, softly, taking his hand and holding it while Eden took a wet cloth and began to wipe away the blood to try and get a better look at the wound. “I’m Anaya Cross, and this is my boyfriend Eden Yarrow. We’re going to help you.”

“There’s no exit wound,” Eden muttered, looking at the backside of the boy’s thigh. “He needs a surgeon, Naya-”

“Well, good thing you trained to be one, huh?"

"Yeah, before I quit residency-"

"Eden, just... can you get the bullet out?”

Eden exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Probably. It's a pretty clean wound. I definitely shouldn’t, but…”

“Well, try.” She turned back to the boy, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles, back and forth, back and forth. The kid stared at her like she’d grown a second head, but he didn’t pull his hand back. He just… watched her, with those strange canine eyes. “Hey. We’re gonna get the bullet out of you, and then we’ll help you get somewhere with people.”

“No,” He said again. His eyes moved from one to the other. “No… people.”

Eden’s eyes closed. He muttered something under his breath that Anaya didn’t quite hear. Then he moved to dig around in the first aid kit again. 

“Okay. Well, we’ll figure that bit out as we go, then. Can you tell us your name?”

She thought of the poacher mentioning Rusty.

The boy was quiet for a long, drawn-out silence broken only by a hiss when Eden used a sanitizing wipe on the wound, cleaning it out again as best he could. Finally, almost under his breath, he whispered, “Misae.”

“Missy?” Eden said, nose wrinkling. “Your name is Missy?”

The boy’s odd eyes narrowed. “Misae,” He repeated, a little louder. Mih-say-eh. Some of the gravelly hoarseness was leaving his voice, the more he spoke. Anaya wondered if he didn’t speak often. 

“That man with the gun called you Rusty, I think,” Anaya said, keeping her own voice gentle.

“... their name for me.” Misae hissed through his teeth, lips pulled back in a snarl again as Eden began to probe into the wound, eyes closing tightly. Tears leaked fro the corners of his eyes. Anaya gave him both her hands and he gripped on tight enough to hurt, making a sound that was clearly meant to be a canine whine. “Not… my name.”

“But Misae is your name.”

“Y… Yes.” His head lowered until the top of it, the shaggy reddish hair, pressed against her. He kept pushing against her, until she twisted one hand free and laid it there, scratching her fingers against his scalp. His whining softened, then. It was all so terribly… doglike.

No.

Wolf.

Anaya tried not to look as his leg twitched and oozed blood even as Eden carefully worked one of the tools he kept on hand into the wound, searching for the bullet. Misae didn’t answer at first. She leaned over, hoping her voice could carry through the pain. “It’s okay, honey. You’re going to be okay.”

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Misae groaned, finally laying his head directly in her lap. She could feel his tears soaking into her sweatpants, the hitching of his breath as he fought not to sob. His voice was a whisper she barely heard, twisted around his pained, frightened whimpers.

“Th-thank… thank you…”

“Found it!” Eden shouted, triumphant. He might have been reluctant to do this, but there was a reason he’d worked so hard to fill his first aid kit with anything you might need to stay alive in the wilderness when medical care was too far to get to in time. There was a reason he’d trained as a surgeon. He was good at this, he always had been. He wiggled the little tool, making Misae cry harder, but then something bloody and shimmering beneath the red came out, and Eden dropped it on a towel beside Misae. “Intact, even. Nice.”

Eden was focused on getting the wound closed up and stitches sewn. Anaya though, watched blood slide along the surface of the bullet, too big, a terrifying size. The gleam of the metal, though, along with the strange runes carved into it, made her eyebrows furrow. “... Eden.”

“Mmmn?” He dipped the needle, pulled it through skin. Anaya knew if she looked she’d faint dead away, so she kept her eyes on the bullet. On the shine. 

“That’s… that hunter shot him with silver.”

Eden stilled and looked up, his eyes catching on the bullet, too. Then shifting over to Misae, who was shaking like a leaf, eyes open now, wide and almost sightless. In shock, Anaya thought, not that she knew for sure or even really understood what being in shock meant. But it reminded her of people going into shock in the movies, on television. Eden’s eyes moved to meet Anaya’s.

“Once I finish stitching him up,” He said, voice low and calm, “We drive this car as far away from here as we can get before we stop.”

“We’re taking him with us.” 

“... Naya-”

Anaya’s jaw set and she raised her chin. “We’re taking Misae.”

Eden looked down at the boy, who didn’t seem to hear or even see the two of them any longer. Then he huffed and went back to what he was doing, sewing slow, careful, precise stitches even as he had to continually wipe away blood, too. “Fine. We go as far as we can with him, and then we… think about what we do next. Figure out how to call his family or something.”

“Fair.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

They paused, and smiled at each other.

Then Misae whimpered, and Anaya realized she’d stopped scratching his head. She started up again, and felt some of his shaking settle once more. “Do you have family?” Anaya asked, trying to distract him as Eden finished up. “Someone looking for you?”

Misae was silent for so long that she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her.

Then he answered, voice low, “No family. Not… anymore."

"Did you run away from them?"

"No.” Misae's body shuddered, and Anaya found herself rubbing her thumb in little circles just behind one ear. "No."

"Then-"

"Dead. Everyone... is dead. But me."

-

[venture4treasure]

"Footnote"

Words: 1065

Premise: Venture and Ex-Talon!Reader talk about history to-be.

Warnings: Scars, Description of violence 

Sprawled out across Venture’s lap with the afternoon sun warming your back is one of the most pleasant ways to spend your down time. You shove your face into the pillow between you and Venture, mind begging for a nap. They rest their hand on your back, tracing down the shape of your spine, you melt into the feeling. Their hand sneaks under your shirt and trails back up your back. You can feel their calluses against your skin, scratching an itch you didn’t realize you had. 

You hear their breath hitch and you lift your head to see what’s caught their attention. Their hand is stopped at the edge of a large scar that tore across your back. The scar tissue is smooth and pale, dipped slightly lower than the rest of your skin. It's also violently jagged and marred, few things could leave a scar like that.

“You can touch it, not like I can feel anything there anymore,” you laugh, trying to bring up the mood. You drop your head back onto the pillow.  

“I did this to you,” Venture frowns, ignoring your comment.

You roll over, turning your back against the couch. Venture’s hand finds its place on your stomach instead. You're a bit annoyed that your afternoon took a turn like this — you could be napping right now. And recalling the story of the scar isn’t nice either, the reminder is enough to make the area tingle with a phantom pain you shouldn’t even be able to feel. 

Nobody forgets how it feels to be on the receiving end of a proper fight with Venture, the tremors and rumble from their drill. The feeling of plates and threads meant for cutting stone against flesh. It’s unforgettable. 

—

You’d genuinely believed you were going to die that day. 

You had been with Talon back then, out in the field to find whatever it was that your commander sent your team out to find. ‘You’ll know when you find it’ was all the details you were given – you’d nearly rolled your eyes at him when you’d been given the order.

The search crossed paths with Overwatch and the Wayfinder Society. It was unlucky that both groups would be at the same site your team was assigned to. You were all ill-prepared to handle Overwatch, much less both organizations at once. You had call the shots, you told your crew to retreat and that whatever consequences Talon had for your cowardice would be easier to handle than if Overwatch had gotten ahold of you guys – despite being Talon-affiliated, your team weren’t bad people and definitely didn’t deserve to be doomed to whatever fate ‘good guys’ wrote for them.

You would’ve gotten away too if Venture hadn’t caught you – your first meeting. They had been mad, screamed and shouted about artifacts and history. You didn’t really register anything about what they were saying, the sound of rushing blood deafened you. You had every intention to put a bullet in their head and book it before any backup arrived. Unfortunately, ever stubborn and skilled, Venture didn’t withdraw at the notion of a gunfight. They fought well with such an unconventional weapon. Impressive in retrospect, but horrifying in the moment. There was no way for you to land a good shot with the way they were moving and defending. No matter how much you backed up, they closed the space between you two faster. 

Too close, you had managed to keep Venture from slamming their excavator into your front point-blank by swinging your rifle at it. The drill sent painful tremors through your arms when your gun made contact – if you had a spare moment, you’d wonder how Venture was even holding it. Having traded your weapon to save your life, you couldn’t do anything when Venture swung again except dive out of the way. 

You weren’t fast enough, the drill ripped through the clothes and flesh of your back and sent you face first into the ground. You had screamed, raw and fear-filled. It seemed to snap some sense into Venture, who shut off their excavator, the silence without the engine was suffocating. They approached you and you could see your own blood drip off the ridges of their weapon. They had a scowl on their face as they radioed their location and reluctantly threw their jacket on your wound and pressed to keep you from bleeding out. They mumbled about how it was the ‘right thing to do’. 

—

“I was on the wrong side of history then,” you shrug, your feigned nonchalance breaking Venture out of their remorseful thoughts. They chuckle a bit. 

“There’s no real wrong side of history,” Venture smiles down at you, their mind now on a different train of thought, “history is written by the winners, and everyone wants to win in the present”. 

You swat at the air, “technicalities and whatever. You think you’re the good guys, no? So, therefore, you should think that I was on the wrong side of history. Simple”.

“Uh-huh,” they say, amused at your logic. 

They watch you with a soft expression, wearing the golden hour sunlight so prettily. Your heart stutters at the sight. 

“Look,” you swallow, “it’s my eternal joy to be able to spend my life as yours”.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Venture coos, unsure where the unprompted affection is coming from, but happy to hear it nonetheless, “I love you t-”

You pull at their shirt, tugging them down to meet them halfway for a kiss. They give into you easily. 

“Sloan- No,” you correct yourself, “Venture”.

Your voice saying their call sign catches their complete attention.

“Venture,” you reiterate, your hand tangling in theirs, “your story was meant for the history books. Venture will be remembered for years and years after we’re all long gone. Venture of the Wayfinder Society, Venture of Overwatch, you’re destined for the spotlight in history. Maybe you’ll even get your own chapter,” you laugh.

“Right or wrong side of history, I’m happy to be just a footnote in your story”, you add softer, “as your lover”.

Venture hisses something in Spanish – you’re certain it’s a swear. 

They squeeze your hand, “Amor, I’ll make sure my story is a good one so you can be proud to be a part of it,” they promise with unwavering conviction. 

“I know,” you breathe, “I know you will, Sloan Cameron”.

Author’s Note: Reader’s fight with Venture was when Overwatch was first building relations with the Wayfinder Society. So, new and inexperienced, Venture mostly fought on instinct and emotion. They aren’t as violent anymore in fights. 

If you made me write out the entire story in my mind, it’s enemies to lovers. Slow burn, but picks up pretty fast once Reader and Venture’s relationship shifts from negative to friendly. During Reader’s time as a captive, Venture is constantly dropping by to share information about artifacts, at first to guilt-trip Reader and later it evolves into a daily routine to share about their day to Reader. Eventually, this relationship convinces Reader to spill what they know about Talon. Venture convinces Overwatch to let Reader go. Now they both live together and fall in love and all that good fun. Cheers! 

Hope it’s not too out of character… I haven’t been able to consume much Venture content lately :( It got harder and harder to get the confidence to write again, so I sat down (reminded myself that I am supposed to be less critical of my writing here) and just wrote whatever I wanted :)

[acowardinmordor]

The muse of angsty plot bunnies who only visits when I’m trying to go to sleep has arrived. Wretched thing.

Omegaverse secret identity recluse mildly scent-mate situation here.

Pulling from a base I used for something else, Eddie was with Chrissy, hanging out for the first time. She was convinced someone was following her but never saw anyone and thought she was going crazy. Goes to Eddie because he looked scary but shes desperate, so she asks him if he can get her a gun. He definitely cannot, but he does have drugs. Meet up later that night, a young Henry really was stalking her; she’s killed in Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie is the only suspect no matter how much he swears there was someone there. Eventually the state throws the case out. Never even goes to trial because there was dna under her nails that didn’t belong to Eddie, and the DA dropped it.

It doesn’t matter. It was one of those highly visible cases because the pretty young omega and the super senior alpha? Of course he killed her. Everyone knows that.

Eddie becomes a recluse. Barely even talks to his uncle because he doesn’t want to get his uncle tied up in the hatred the town has for him. Very, very occasionally, he goes into town, keeps his head down, and gets out. Usually goes super super early in the morning.

Enter Steve. Omega, moved to town with his family not long after the murder. He saw all the press coverage, knows the name, knows the face, but has never met or spoken to Eddie. He’s working some awful job with Robin, and from time to time, he’ll catch just the barest trace of a scent he wants to follow. It’s unpredictable though, and he’s never managed to find them. He’s not even sure if whoever this alpha is has ever noticed Steve’s scent.

After a few months, Steve happens to get scheduled for an opening shift on a day Eddie is there. Before they even make eye contact they both have that sudden moment of “oh, I found them.”

Then they actually see each other. Eddie sees a beautiful omega he immediately, instinctively knows he would love forever. And Eddie sees when his potential perfect mate recognizes him. The hopeful smile collapses, and Steve backs into a display as he tries to get away from him. Eddie runs.

And Steve… look. He’s a romantic. He always wanted to find a scent mate, but it’s not like this is a one time thing. It’s more like a stamp of approval from the universe that it’s a divine requirement. He could have another chance. You know, not with a violent murderer.

Eddie makes sure he won’t cross paths with Steve again. Doesn’t even have a name, just a tiny moment of hope about this omega, but he knows that hope is DoA. Smothers it.

Not long after that first encounter, Steve starts getting a weird creepy sensation. He feels like he’s being watched, but never sees anyone. Robin keeps an eye out too, but nothing. Obviously Robs knows about that encounter with Eddie, and they both, logically, assume that’s who’s watching.

They even dig into some of the less publicized I formation from five years ago, and see the notes from Chrissy’s friends that talk about how scared and paranoid she was.

Proof positive, right?

Stobin talks to Hopper, one of the few people in town who is confident that Eddie Munson, once arrested for trespassing because he got high and wanted to hug the kittens at the shelter, did not kill anyone. He has a duty though. Visits Eddie, who honestly is not doing great. Then add in Hopper asking questions about whether Eddie’s been following Steve? Yeah. Eddie’s not having a great time. All he can think about is what Chrissy told him back then.

So Eddie, a fool, and desperate not to let someone else die because he failed to help them, starts actually stalking Steve. Only as security, but yes, technically it’s stalking. Steve is increasingly terrified, Robin is worse.

Worst of all? Every time Steve smells any trace of Eddie, he gets all Omega-y, and emotional, and he yearns. He isn’t going to go court a murderer, but his stupid omega instincts don’t care.

I don’t know the steps between, but this is obviously heading towards Henry coming after Steve, wanting the same thing as before. He wants to steal an omega, and this time, has a plan so he won’t have to kill his chosen when they fight him. Maybe Robin is there when it happens. Maybe Steve does get grabbed at first, and she runs to Eddie because she now knows it wasn’t him. Maybe she wasn’t there and when Steve goes missing, she goes to Eddie to find Steve. Maybe she’s there but before Creel can do anything, Eddie arrives.

What matters is this. Eddie has spent five years hating himself, simmering in failed alpha instincts, and now a potential omega mate is in danger? He’s definitely going to do something stupid about it.