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niallhorxns · 5 months ago

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Niall Horan x Reader: Worth Fighting For

Prompt: The distance while he's on tour is difficult, you and Niall try to make it work.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi all!! So excited to be writing again. Please enjoy this slightly angsty, short fic. And please feel free to send any / all Niall requests my way :)

Niall’s contact photo pops up on your phone. The ringer interrupts the song you were playing through your car speakers, but before you even slide to answer, you already know the sound of his voice is going to be way better than whatever poppy tune had been on.

“Hey babe,” you smile widely, trying to balance your phone between your ear and shoulder as you drive home from work. The fact that you would be seeing Niall tonight has been the only thing keeping you smiling throughout the day. Not even the heavy traffic can interfere with your good mood.

Since you’ve been together, you’ve dealt with Niall spending long hours at the studio– and occasionally taking long weekend trips to Ireland or New York. But this tour was so much more difficult than any of that.

When Niall left for his latest tour, you both were dedicated to making things work. You planned FaceTimes and phone calls and flew in to see him whenever you could. However, the last few months had been harder than you could have ever anticipated, and the distance had definitely taken a toll on your relationship.

But right now, none of that mattered, because Niall would be home tonight.

“Hey there,” Niall says back. You can hear chatter in the background and briefly wonder if he’s landed yet.

“Are you almost home?” You ask, hopeful.

There’s a brief pause, then Niall sighs. “That’s actually what I was calling about—“

“Oh no,” you interrupt. “Was the flight delayed?”

“No…” he clears his throat, “I’m actually still in New York.”

The moment he says the words, your coffee canister slips from your hands, spilling over your lap and car. The heat immediately seeps through your skirt. You’re lucky you don’t crash as you try to wipe it up with the napkins stuffed in your cup holder.

“Shit,” you gasp, your thighs burning from the hot beverage. “Shit, shit, shit—“

“Baby?” You hear his worried voice through the line.

You flip your blinker on and pull over on the side of the road. You wipe up the remainder of the coffee, ignoring Niall asking if everything was okay on the other end of the line.

Once your legs no longer feel like they’re on fire, you pick your phone back up, and already on the verge of tears resume your conversation.

“Are you serious?” You ask. “I thought you had three nights off.”

“I know– I do, but we got the opportunity to play on Fallon, my agent booked it–“

You can tell he’s trying to dodge a fight, which you’ve been doing a lot of lately. Last week you were mad when he canceled your FaceTime date to go out with bandmates instead. The week before that, he was frustrated that you declined his offer to fly you out to Denver with less than a day's notice.

Seeing each other today has been what you were both holding onto. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Why do you have to play Fallon, Niall? It’s not like you’re desperate to grow your image–”

“I know, but it’s a good opportunity to expand to other listeners–”

You sigh, and without raising your voice say, “I just… We’ve had these dinner plans for so long— I mean my parents have been talking about this for weeks.“

“I know, I know, I know—“ he says frantically, “I’m so sorry, believe me, I’d much rather be there than here… this place is nuts.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, and close your eyes, listening to the sound of traffic rushing by your parked vehicle.

“Okay,” you sigh, feeling so defeated and drained all of a sudden. “Okay, well, we’ll miss you.”

“I know, tell everyone I say I’m sorry for not being there.”

“Yeah, alright,” you agree.

“So we’ll just talk later then?” He asks, the noise in the background getting louder.

“Okay,” you say before hanging up.

You can’t help but notice that the “I love you’s” were skipped.

You drive the rest of the way home with your fingers tightly clutching the steering wheel. Your knuckles are white by the time you pull into the driveway. You drag your bag and coffee-stained self into the house to change and get ready for dinner with your family.

You try convincing yourself that the night will be fun, regardless of the fact that Niall bailed. But the moment you sit around the table at the restaurant and count that you are in fact the ninth wheel of the family, you know things are doomed. Plus you can’t shake the achy feeling inside your chest that makes you fear for your relationship with Niall. You’d been holding onto this weekend together with everything you had. It’s kept you grounded, and reminded you that this distance between you and Niall won’t last forever– that this tour will eventually end.

Except now, you have nothing to hold on to.

“Where’s Niall?” Your mother immediately asked. Of course she does– because your family loves Niall.

Without even thinking, you lie, “His flight got delayed. Bad weather. Tornadoes, I think—“ you’re not sure why you don’t tell the truth. Denial, maybe. Embarrassment that his job would always come before you.

“Bad weather?” Your brother asks, “Where is he?”

“New York,“ you say quickly.

Your brother pulls out his phone. After a moment his brows furrow. “Huh, weird. The weather app says it’s sunny and clear there.”

Instantly you feel your face turning red. “Yeah… weird,” you say.

Your brother opens his mouth– probably to ask more questions, but his girlfriend elbows him, indicating for him to shut his mouth. You give her a soft smile in appreciation.

You stay quiet for the majority of the meal, and you don’t feel much like eating. You try to listen to your dad talk about golf, but all you can focus on is how Niall might chime into the conversation. You try to listen to your older brother when he complains about his meal, but all you can imagine is how Niall would nudge your leg and offer you a sly smile, knowing how much that annoyed you.

You can’t be present because all you can do is think about how much you miss him– you miss his laugh, and the smell of his aftershave. You miss how warm hands always are, and how they’re always touching you– every chance he can get. You miss the way he can always lighten the mood, and how safe you feel just knowing he’s around. You miss him with everything inside of you– and his absence tonight only makes you miss him more.

All-in-all, you’re relieved when everyone is ready to head home.

“Hey,” your brother’s girlfriend catches up to you before you can head to your car.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Is everything okay? I just— I wanted to make sure, because you do know New York doesn’t really have tornados, right?”

You nod and let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I know. And Niall’s flight never got delayed,” you take a deep breath, “I guess that just sounded better than the fact that he didn’t even get on his flight. Got caught up at work,” you explain.

She sighs empathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just—“ you feel the tears starting to fill your eyes and you wipe them away, embarrassed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh no,” she says empathetically.

“The distance is just, really, really hard. Way harder than I ever thought—“ Even you can tell how choked up your voice sounds. “And I just don’t see it ending anytime soon. I mean, sure, this tour will end. But he loves his job, so I know there will just be another one. And another. And can’t ask him to give that up. But I can’t compete with it. I just don’t know if I can do it—”

“Maybe you should talk to him about this,” she suggests, as she soothingly rubs your shoulder. “Tell him how much it’s bothering you. Be honest.”

You nod. “Yeah you’re probably right.” You wipe your runny nose on your sleeve.

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod, thanking her and hugging her goodbye. She’s right. You do need to talk to Niall. But that’s a conversation you wish you could just keep on the back burner, ignoring until everything ignited. You dreaded it the whole way home.

When you did finally arrive home, you puttered around the house– put the dishes away, washed your face, got into your pajamas, all as an effort to stall. Finally, you curled up on the couch. With no more excuses to delay the inevitable, you pulled out your phone and clicked on Niall’s contact. You hated this– everything about it. You hated that you hated it– hated that you were dreading calling your favorite person in the entire world… the only person who made you feel whole.

The phone rang three times before Niall answered. “Hey baby,” he said cheerfully. “How’re you?”

“Okay,” you said quietly. “How was Fallon?”

“Not bad– that guy from the TV show you like… the one on HBO? God, I can’t remember the name of it now. But he was there. Made me think of you. The crowd was fun– a few people actually knew the words. How was dinner?” He asks.

“It was fine—“ you lie, not really wanting to fake small talk. “Everyone missed you.”

“Yeah, I wish I could’ve been there.”

You clear your throat as you anxiously pick at the skin around your thumb.

“Listen, Niall. We need to talk—“

“Babe,” he protests, like he knows where this is going. “I already apologized for not being there— I wanted to, but I couldn’t say no after they booked the gig–”

You don’t want another fight. You’re too tired, too drained, too sad to fight. You love Niall– so much so that you wanted him around all the time– needed him. And you know Niall loves you too. But Niall also loves music, and touring. One was always going to interfere with the other, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. And suddenly, the realization that this just isn’t going to work hits you like a ton of bricks.

“I know…” you say as non-confrontational as possible, “I know it’s your job, I understand that, but I— I need you here, Niall. And maybe that’s selfish of me, or whatever, but it’s true. I need you here. And I don’t know if I can do this distance thing, I thought I could, but I don’t think I can. It’s… Honestly, it’s killing me.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Niall asks. “I mean, what do you want me to do? Quit? Do you want me to quit the tour?”

You squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of what’s about to happen.

“No, I don’t want that,” you say, your voice becoming thick with tears. You could never take performing away from Niall– you wouldn’t be the thing that came between him and his passion. “I hate that this is through the phone, but I don’t think we should do this anymore. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

A long, heavy silence settles over the air. It sends waves of blood pumping to your ears. It’s deafening.

You begin wondering if you should provide more of an explanation, but then Niall speaks.

“Baby—“ he pleads, his voice suddenly full of desperation. “Please, I know you’re mad about tonight but I can fix this—“

“I’m not mad,” you tell him honestly, pushing the emotion in your voice down and trying to muscle through. “I understand that you couldn’t say no. I know you wanted to be here but couldn’t. But I come second to your job, Niall. And I always will. And that’s not your fault. But it’s not my fault either. And I– I just think that I need more than that.”

He’s stammering incoherently on the other end, and you imagine what his face looks like right now. Is he crying? Are his eyebrows all scrunched up?

He tries protesting again, but you can’t think about anything other than getting off the phone.

“I’m really sorry this isn’t in person, you deserve that. But I just can’t keep doing this,” you explain. “When you’re back in LA, shoot me a text and I can get your stuff together.”

“Baby–” he pleads.

But you cut him off. “Goodbye,” you whisper, hitting the end button before he can convince you to change your mind. As soon as the line goes dead, you break out into uncontrollable sobs. The weight on your shoulders that you thought would be lifted only felt heavier as you let yourself fall back against the cushions of the couch you bought together.

Your chest aches. Desperately, you clutch your arm around yourself, trying to hold everything together.

It hurts like fucking hell.

It’s the kind of pain you know will leave lasting scars– the kind you know you’ll carry with you forever. And the only person you’d ever want to call to help you through it is the one you just broke up with.

Broke up.

You and Niall broke up.

You cry harder.

You cry and cry and cry– until there’s nothing left inside of you, until you’re pretty sure if you cried anymore, you’d need an IV to replace all the fluids. You cry until finally, you drift off into an uneasy sleep, curled up on the couch with Netflix playing on the TV, the screen lighting up the otherwise dark living room.

The clock below the TV reads 7 am when you wake to the sound of the front door opening.

Your first instinct is to scream, but you catch a glimpse of the familiar, dark haired man crossing the room before that can happen.

“Niall?” You say groggily, rubbing your tired eyes. “What are you doing?” You feel like you might still be dreaming.

“I know you probably don’t want me here,” he says, he’s out of breath, panting, even– like he ran across the country overnight to be here. That’s when it hits you that Niall is really here– not across the country in New York, but standing in your shared living room in LA.

“Just hear me out—” He begs. When you don’t protest, he continues. “I love my job,” he states. “Playing music has always been my dream, and then that dream came true. I love touring– I love performing.I love being able travel around so much—“

You let your eyes wander to the floor, wondering where this all is going.

“But none of that compares to how much I love you,” he says, his shoulders finally deflating. “And I’ll quit in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Please, please don’t be mad– I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, I swear.”

It had been so long since Niall had told you he loved you, that you feared it might no longer be true. But as soon as he says the words with such honesty and passion, your face scrunches up and the tears start to fall, because you immediately believe him. For a moment, you forget that you’d practically broken up with him over the phone.

All you care about is that he’s here. Niall is here, standing in front of you in real life for the first time in so long. As soon as he sees your face crumple, he’s crossing the room in two quick strides. Before you can protest, he’s kneeling in front of you on the couch.

Your knees– you think. But then one of Niall’s hands is cradling your cheek softly while the other rests on your thigh, and all you can think about is how grateful you are that he’s home.

“I’m not mad, I just… I– I miss you–” you sob before leaning forward, arms winding around his neck while you crash into him. “I miss you so much, all the time.”

His arms wind around you tightly. He smells so familiar, and when he tightens his grip around you, you immediately feel safe and secure and whole again– the way only Niall can make you feel.

You’re not sure how long you stay like that. But you’re afraid that the minute you let go, things will fall apart again.

“I miss you too,” he whispers, hand coming up to stroke through your hair. “God, I missed you so much.”

You lean into his touch, try to memorize the feel of it. Then, you sigh into his neck. “I could never ask you to quit your job. You love your job more than anything. You’d be so unhappy and I’d hate myself for making you unhappy.”

Niall pulls you away from himself– holding you out in front of him. “You come before my job, okay? It’s not even close. If I quit music, I’d miss it. Of course I would. But I can write songs here– play my guitar here. Eventually, it’d feel okay. But if I lost you–” Niall shakes his head, like the thought alone is too unbearable. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to be happy again. You come first, okay? Always.”

You give Niall the best attempt at a smile that you can come up with, enough to show him that you appreciate his gesture. It’s nice actually hearing how much Niall cares for you. He smiles back, it’s weak and doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s a smile all the same. And it’s Niall’s.

But then it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a slight frown before he says, “What if you came with me?”

Taken aback, you immediately shake your head. “What? On tour?”

He nods, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Yeah, why not?”

You open your mouth, presumably to list the reasons why that would be such a bad idea. But your mind is blank.

“You can bring your laptop– work from the bus, or hotel or whatever. We could travel around, see things. Just be together.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’d get sick of me–”

“Are you kidding? I’m sick of being away from you.”

“Niall– there’s no way. I have work– what about the apartment?”

“It’s an apartment, not a dog. It doesn’t need food or water. Plus, I won’t be touring all the time. Just for a few more months. We’d get through it, then figure out what to do next. But we’d be together.”

The more he talked, the more you realize that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Like he said, it’s only a few months. Maybe it really could work.

And in that moment, on top of admiration and love and endearment, you feel hopeful– hopeful for the first time in a long time. Because even though things between you and Niall are far from perfect, you love him and he loves you. And that’s worth fighting for.

#niall horan #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #niall horan imagine #niall horan angst #niall horan fic #niall horan x reader angst #niall horan x reader #niall horan x reader fanfic #niall horan x reader imagine #niall horan x reader fic #niall horan x reader fanfics #niall horan x you

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world-of-aus · 4 months ago

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The Arrangement - Chapter 4

Pairing:Mobboss!bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angsty Dialogue

Authors Note: I apologize immensely for the delay but my mental health has absolutely tanked in the last three weeks. I have fought enough to feel a semblance of normal and was able to put this chapter together. I hope you all enjoy, and look forward to the groveling and ass kissing our guys gonna do. Love, and many thanks, happy reading. 🤍

Bucky thinks he finally understands vividly the phrase ‘so close, yet so far’.

The two of you have been married a little over a week and it’s as if nothing has changed, he still barely see’s you despite the two of you living in the same house. You’re asleep when he arrives, and you’re gone when he wakes, and despite his best efforts, you’ve managed to avoid him at every turn.

He knows there is no excuse you could give him, no longer any reason for you to still be actively avoiding him the way you have. And while he’d give just about anything to have you at least talk to him about what troubles you, to enjoy his presence the way you had the night of your wedding, he doesn’t want to push when your discomfort is so obvious.

So he gives you time.

The first two days he gave you all the space you could have possibly wanted making himself scarce, but as the third came and went as did the days that followed, he found his patience running quite thin, an underlying hurt brewing deep within his chest.

Your close friends had all but advised against his plan to confront you.

‘She just needs time pal, she’s working through a lot of emotions, don't get a hot head because she’s coping in the only way she’s known, let her come to you when she’s ready.’

‘Listen, I’d avoid you too if I had to marry an ugly mug like yours.’

‘She’s conflicted B, she’s had her happiness ripped from her before, she’s been placed in uncomfortable situations without having anyone check up on her well-being, she’s putting herself first for the first time in a very long time. Don’t mess this up, because she won’t be the only one you lose this time around.’

He had taken their words to heart, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He just wanted to talk to you, to feel a sense of normalcy in your shared marriage, he wanted you to be happy, genuinely happy. Bucky wanted you to want to be in this marriage not because it was asked of the two of you but because it was something you genuinely wanted. He knew it was a lot to ask of you, but he would do so anyway.

Or at least he was going to try.

You're finalizing emails to meet with the other heads sometime this week when a knock stills your fingers on the keys and draws your gaze from the screen. You call out for them to enter, you weren’t sure who you were expecting but you hadn’t been expecting him. You only barely manage to conceal your shock.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” You question unable to help the way your eyes flicker to the time on your desktop, you were certain you had mastered the times you arrived home. Your eyes flicker back to his, “I was just about to make my way to the house I would have met you there.” You lie.

He offers you a smile that barely meets his eyes as he closes the door behind him, your heart races in your chest as he closes the distance between the two of you. You watch as he rounds your desk, he stops to lean against it, his eyes taking you in.

“Is everything okay?” you worry somethings happen, with his sudden appearance.

“I don’t know y/n, is everything okay?” he questions in return.

“Well yes,” you answer, “I was just -” He stops you mid statement, he doesn’t want another lie from you.

“Don’t,” he shakes his head, “don’t do that sweetheart, don’t hide behind another lie, we both know you’ve been actively avoiding me since our first night home after our wedding, and you’ve been doing so since we signed that contract Monday, and somehow that feels worse than when you would cancel on me when I was with your sister, at least then I wasn’t catching on to the lies you made to get out of it.” Your eyes shut on a shaky exhale, “Talk to me,” he pleads, worried you’ll continue to shut him out, “tell me what I can do to make this right. This isn’t what I want for our marriage I don’t want -”

Your eyes snap open, “and you think this is what I want, you think this is how I wanted our marriage to go?” you question looking up at him in disbelief. “There may have been a time where I envisioned vividly what our marriage would be like but – I,” you shake your head unable to speak on that night right now. “I don’t know how to do this,” you continue, “I’m not even sure how to feel because before all of this,” you gesture between you, “I was certain with all finality that you’d be nothing more than someone I called a friend, my brother in law, my sisters husband and I was finally coming to terms with that, I was finally starting to feel okay with it. But just like that night I’ve had the rug ripped out from right under me yet again and I’m scared Bucky! I’m scared that it’ll happen again, that I will get too close, get too comfortable – fall in love – and with a snap of a finger it’ll all be taken away. I can’t go through that again.”

I don’t think I’d survive a second time.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he knows he’s pleading again, but he wants to do right by you, he wants to right his wrongs. “You’re my wife now y/n your happiness is above anyone else’s, I made vows to you that evening, vows I intend to keep. Please tell me how to fix this.”

The tone of his voice almost breaks you, has your resolve crumbling.

“That’s just the thing B, I don’t know.” You answer truthfully. “How do I come out from behind her shadow if everywhere I look it reminds me of her, of everything she had, everything she took from me that should have been mine. I can’t even look at you without being reminded -” you shake your head looking away from his cerulean blues as you press your fingers into your eyes willing away the sting of tears.

You feel your chair being pulled to where he knows kneels before you, gentle hands prying your from your face. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, “y/n, sweetheart look at me,” he murmurs, “please.”

Your eyes slip open, to find his waiting gaze, “you are my wife. And ill be damned if you feel anything but. Please give me the chance to give you the marriage you deserve the one you are worthy of, I know you don’t want too, and maybe I shouldn’t ask, but let me try, let me try to be the man that is worthy of you.”

He can see the hesitation in your gaze as you look down at your intertwined hands, “what if she comes back? Decides she wants you back.”

He runs his thumb along your wedding band drawing both your gazes there. “I made a promise to you, I recited my vows to you,” your gazes find one another, “I am faithful to you. My wife.”

“But what if -” he chuckles shaking his head, “There are not what ifs, I’m. Yours.” He’s squeezing your hands in his, “give me a chance, give us a chance, let’s try.”

Your hearts beating like a wild drum in your chest, “Okay. Let’s try.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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delicatebarness · 6 months ago

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cry baby | chapter twelve

Summary: It's not who the hell is Bucky, it's where the hell is Bucky?

Warning: Lack of Bucky. Mean Bucky is back (question mark?)

Word Count: 1654

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A/N: Oh... Buck. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Your phone buzzed, an indication that you received a text, and you eagerly snatched it up. Only to find it was the regular pizza deal text from the local pizzeria you ordered from, one time. Sighing, you tossed your phone back onto the couch and wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself.

A few days had passed since that night Bucky left your apartment. In that time, he hadn’t returned any of your calls or texts, and he hadn’t been showing up at the bar. You had expressed your growing concern to the rest of the group, however they seemed unbothered. “He’s just being Bucky,” they all waved off with a casual shrug.

As the day continued to pass without a word from him, your worry began to deepen. Each time your phone buzzed, your hope would flare, only to vanish when it wasn’t him.

The first place you checked when you hadn’t heard back from him was his apartment. You had gone there during a time when you knew he wouldn’t be at work. Knocking on his door and calling his name, you waited around a few moments longer than you normally would, but there had been no answer. You had even asked his neighbors, but they explained that they rarely see him.

You found yourself pacing the apartment, the thought of him possibly hurt or in trouble gnawed at you. Your mind raced. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing your phone and keys, you decided to check the local hospital. It felt drastic, but the uncertainty was eating away at you. The cool air did little to calm your nerves as you walked toward the hospital.

At the hospital’s reception desk, you explained your situation to the receptionist, trying to not rush your words and steady your breathing. “Hi, I was just wondering if my friend has been admitted here. He hasn’t been in touch for a few days, and I’m really worried. His name is James Barnes… but he might be under Bucky.”

The receptionist took a moment to check her records, giving you a sympathetic look as she turned back to you. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone by that name admitted.”

Your heart sank, but you thanked the lady and headed toward the bar. As you walked, the city lights began to turn on as you debated your next move. Checking with Fury felt like the next logical step, but you worried it may be too extreme.

Reaching the bar with heavy steps, your mind swirled with anxiety and unanswered questions. You saw that Natasha was already sitting at the booth. Concern was etched on her face as she looked up at you sliding into the booth. “Hey, everything okay? You don’t look so good.”

You shook your head, fidgeting with the ends of your cardigan shelves. “I still haven’t heard from Bucky… I checked his apartment, the hospitals… nothing.”

She reached out, a comforting hand resting on top of your trembling ones. “I know you’re worried, but remember,” she paused, taking a sigh. “This isn’t the first time he’s disappeared like this. He’s always had the habit of going off the grid for a week or two and then, one day we walk in here and he’s just back.”

You nodded, a mixed feeling of frustration and relief rushed through you at her words. “I know, but it just feels different, Nat. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Natasha gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a sympathetic look covering her face. “I get it, but he’s a tough guy, he knows what he’s doing,”

You couldn’t shake the worry entirely, but her words gave you a small sense of hope. As the rest of the evening passed by, you found yourself staring at the empty seat across from you.

Over the rest of the weeks, you tried everything you could think of to try and get a reply from him. You continued to send him calls and texts, each one sounding more desperate as the days passed. You even resorted to sending him Snapchats of your kitten, hoping that a glimpse of the kitten you named, Alpine, together would prompt him to reach out.

However, no matter how hard you tried, all you could see was that everything had only been delivered. He remained silent, and you were left unread.

You checked your phone obsessively, hoping for some sign of him.

The week rolled into the next, and you found yourself trying to distract yourself with work and drawing. No matter how hard to tried to focus on something else, your thoughts kept drifting back to Bucky. You found yourself returning to his apartment time and time again, hoping you would catch him. But each time, the door remained closed.

After a night with the rest of your friends, the bar began to empty out. You had remained lost in your thoughts for most of the night, your gaze still fixed on the empty seat in front of you.

Suddenly, the door to the bar swung open. Your heart began to race as the hope built up inside you. Stretching your neck out to turn toward the door, you locked gazes with Tony.

Tony had been a friend of your group for years, he was the best mechanic in the city and did everything to help out with the bikes. He walked in, carrying a bulky-looking package. His eyes remained locked on yours, a bright smile spread across his face as he made his way over to the booth.

“Evening ladies,” Tony greeted, the term ladies used to greet all five of you sat at the booth. “I’ve been meaning to give this to Barnes, but since he hasn’t shown up or answered his goddamn phone… I figured I’d better bring it to you.”

You watched as Tony placed the cardboard box on the table in front of you. “What’s this?” you asked, curiosity filling your voice.

Tony shot you a mischievous grin as he began opening the box, revealing a pastel pink motorcycle helmet adorned with intricate designs. “Barnes ordered this from the shop a couple of weeks ago…” he trailed on before handing it to you. “Like I said, he hasn’t come to collect it yet or answered any of my calls. But, I can only assume it’s for you.”

Your eyes welled, the surprise of the gesture taking over your emotions. You reached out to look over the helmet, feeling the smooth surface beneath your fingertips. It was adorable, matching the color of your new cardigan perfectly, and the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to order it for you filled your heart.

“Thank you, Tony…” you sniffled, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. “I have no idea he was planning something like this.”

Tony chuckled, his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, I’m glad I could get it to you, Cry Baby.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Tony. He didn’t stay around much longer, with a nod and a wave, he bif you all farewell before leaving.

Holding the helmet in your hands, you couldn’t help but think of Bucky. Why would he plan this gesture but then disappear, you thought?

You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as you stood outside of Bucky’s apartment door, clutching the pink helmet. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you reached out to knock on his door.

The sound of your knocking echoed in the hallway, you held your breath as you waited anxiously for a response.

A surge of relief rushed through you as the door cracked open. However, it was short-lived as you looked up to see Bucky standing there, shirtless and caught off guard. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, and his skin shined from sweat. His eyes widened in surprise as he registered your presence.

“Hi…” you greeted him, offering a small smile in the awkwardness of the situation. “I, uh, Tony… Tony came by the bar tonight,” you tried to keep your voice steady while gesturing toward the helmet in your hands. “I just wanted to thank you for the helmet,”

His expression was guarded as his gaze went back and forth between you and the interior of his apartment. He stepped back slightly, closing the door with him, blocking your view into the apartment. “Oh, uh, yeah. No problem,” he mumbled, his tone terse and distant, if you hadn’t been hanging on his every word, you may have missed him adding your name at the end.

He hadn’t used your name since you were four years old. Twenty years, he has only called you ‘Sweetheart,’ until now. It was a small detail, you should have easily overlooked but it felt significant somehow.

That was when you heard movement coming from the apartment, and the pieces fell into place. You tried to mask your embarrassment as you realized that you had most likely interrupted something more intimate.

“I really appreciate it,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “It, um, it was so thoughtful of you.”

His eyes darted between you and the helmet, and you could see the tension in his posture as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Yeah, well, it’s no big deal,” he muttered, his voice strained.

You bit back the urge to apologize but instead, you focused on getting away as quickly as you could. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to… whatever you were doing,” you said, your voice tinged with embarrassment.

Bucky nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah… thanks,” he mumbled, his gaze avoided yours.

With a final awkward smile, you turned to leave. As the door closed behind you, you made your way back down the hallway. Before rounding the corner, you stopped in your tracks turning back to look at his door.

With a heavy sigh, you tore your gaze away and continued on your way.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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blackbirdie1234 · 9 months ago

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Brothers Best Friend Pt.2

Pt.1

Sam Uley! x Fem!Reader!

A/N: Part Two of a two-part series where Sam is your brother's friend. Slightly based on the plot of New Moon. Emily is Sam's cousin in this. Sorry this took me so long, I've been super busy. Sorry if this sucks lol I didn't proofread but I hope you like it. Feel free to comment, I would love feedback! Stay tuned for my Fred Weasley fics soon!

Warnings//: Profanity.

Summary: Sam is your brother's best friend. What happens when suddenly you start hearing rumors that they have joined a gang and gone off the rails.

B/N=Brothers name (make one up if you wish

"I only have one, why did my brother attack Sam like that? It was out of nowhere, I couldn't even react. It all happened so fast," you ask with confusion trying to wrap your head around all of this.

She looked at you a bit stunned as if she didn't know that piece of information, and you had just said something bizarre.

"He what?" she stuttered. "Wait B/N attacked Sam? Is that why they shifted? I thought the boys caught a whiff of....... never mind" she trailed off, not meaning to slip up.

"Caught a whiff of what?" you ask, staring at her intensely. She looks up at you like a guilty child getting caught doing something wrong by their parents, she avoids your eyes and stands up starting to clean up what you assume was lunch, until the boys were interrupted.

"Of what, Emily" you press, a bit more sternly.

Just as Emily was about to speak, all of the boys barged into the house playfully pushing each other around. You search the group for your brother and Sam. They must still be outside. You sit there as Emily laughs at the boy’s antics and kisses her boyfriend Jared. They all turn to look at you.

“I guess the Wolf’s out of the bag” Embry remarks with a smirk.

“Sorry if we scared you Y/n,” Quil says with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

You smile shyly at them

“ It’s okay, I think the initial shock is gone,” you say with a breathy laugh.

“Sam and B/n are on the porch if you want to go talk to them,” Jared added, moving to sit at the table and grabbing a muffin.

You nod your head and stand up, walking to the front door nervously. You could hear your heartbeat booming in your ears. You were more nervous to talk to Sam than anyone. Ever since you made eye contact you couldn't get him out of your head, you feel guilty but your brother barely crossed your mind. You should have been worried about B/n but you couldn’t help but worry for Sam, wondering why B/n would attack him and if he was okay. You near the door and before you can open it your brother walks into the house. You stare at each other for a while, he can tell on your face that he isn’t the one you were hoping to see. He doesn’t say a word, only tossing his head back to the porch and continuing to walk into the kitchen. You continue to walk out of the house and see Sam sitting on the steps with his head in his hands. He looks up when he hears your footsteps. You sit next to him and look out at the trees, not saying a word.

“I assume Emily filled you in” Sam begins, hesitation clear in his voice.

“She did, at least part of it. I know what you and the rest of the boys are. I don’t know why, or what any of this means though.” You answer. You hear him sigh, and when you look over at him you can see he’s restraining himself, like he wants to say something but is hesitating heavily. Trying to find the right words before he begins.

“I need you to trust me, I need you to listen and I need you to promise me you won’t take off running before I finish explaining” He breathed.

You stare at him momentarily, a bit scared and shocked at what he is saying. You already know he is a werewolf, what could he tell you that would make you run when you haven’t already?

“Okay, I promise” You accepted. You were nervous, but you couldn’t help the pull you felt towards Sam. You could sit there for hours not saying a word and be perfectly content. You tried to push your feelings down in his moment, now was not the time to let your emotions take control.

“Growing up with the stories of our tribe, you already know what we are… but there are things, secrets, only the pack members and elders know.” He sighs, breath shaking from nervousness.

You sit waiting patiently for him to continue.

“None of this was a choice, not a single one of us chose this for ourselves. I don’t think any of us would choose this life if we did have a say in it.” He takes a moment to glance at you, then continues. “ In our world, there is something called an imprint. An imprint is a person that you have a special bond with. When you meet this person, it is no longer gravity holding you to the earth… it's them. Having an imprint is like having a best friend, a lover, a sister, or anything that the bond decides that you are. It's not always romantic, it can be whatever the imprint decides they need. We wolves go along with it, we are happy to. On our side of things, we will be whatever the imprint wants or needs. We act as a built-in protector, friend, family member, or…lover.” he trails, glancing at you to read your face.

“ So what does this have to do with me?” You say confused.

“You are my imprint Y/N, I understand all of this is shocking and crazy. If you need time to figure things out I will support that and whatever else you need. Just say the word and I will back off.” He says rushing, trying to be clear that you have a choice even if he doesn’t.

“Do you even like me? I mean I know you said that it doesn’t have to be romantic but do you even want me to be your imprint?” You said, insecurity dripped from your words. You didn't mean to sound so rude or disappointed but you wanted to know that these feelings were not one-sided. You had feelings for him and now you’re bonded, but he is making it seem like he wouldn’t have picked you if he had the choice.

He doesn’t have a choice. This thought repeats in your head filling the silence that takes over until he begins speaking again.

“You’re my best friend's little sister” He heaves a sigh. He puts his head in his hands and grips his hair before looking up at you again.

“Fuck it” He mumbles before grabbing the back of your head and bringing you closer to him in one smooth motion. You can feel the heat coming off your body, your cheeks become warmer and you become more nervous under his intense gaze. He looks down at your lips and then into your eyes, waiting for you to pull away or tell him to stop. You sit there shocked for a second, mind racing and body not fully responding to what is happening.

“Yes,” you speak barely above a whisper, answering his unasked question.

That's all he needs before he connects your lips, grip still on the back of your head. Your eyes close and you sink into the moment. All the years of pining suddenly become clear as the kiss deepens. Two people who have tried to keep their feelings hidden finally let them flow as their mouths move perfectly in sync. The kiss is aggressive, hard, and fueled by fire but also soft, warm, and loving. Contradicting itself but turning into the perfect blend of yin and yang. It was a representation of the people who made it.

You both pull away out of breath but longing for more. You open your eyes, catching your breath. You push on his chest softly and back up. As amazing as the kiss was, you needed to hear him say how he felt. You needed to know that it wasn’t just the imprint bond.

He quickly realized what you were searching for and smiled softly, moving his hand from your head and taking your hands into his own.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids” he said blushing, looking down at his hands and then looking out to the beach in the distance.

“I knew since the day your brother and I were playing with BB guns and he shot me in the forehead. Even though it was an accident you screamed at him and called him stupid for not being more careful.” You both laugh softly at the memory, he smiles at you before continuing. “You took me inside and gave me a bag of frozen peas to put on my head. I was embarrassed but you looked at me with the purest look in your eyes and told me that ‘everyone got hurt and it was okay to let someone else help you every once and a while’. I realized how special you are, I wanted to be around you to feel that comfort that you so easily gave. From that day on my feelings only grew, but I didn’t want your brother to find out. I thought that he would hate me, I thought that I would be a bad friend for even considering liking you. So I hid it, and slowly I started ignoring you. I feel horrible for it but I had to, I couldn't talk to you or even be near you without feeling like I was going to slip up and reveal what I was trying to suppress. I also never even considered that you would ever feel the same. So I’m sorry I never told you and I ignored you for so long but I didn’t feel like I had any other choice” He finishes his rant letting out a long breath

You smile widely, gazing at him lovingly. You reach up and turn his head to face you, taking his face into your hands.

“ How did you not realize what was right in front of you, I've felt the same way for so long I can't even begin to tell you how long I've felt this way.” You breathe out a laugh. “I understand, why you did what you did. I did the same honestly, I was scared of how B/N would react so I pushed down my feelings and tried to act normal. Sam we don’t have to hide ourselves anymore. I want this”

You take his hand in your own squeezing it slightly. “If this is what you want, you have a choice in this as well,” You say kindly.

He looks at your hands interlinked and then back at you smiling softly. “Of course, this is what I want, this will always be what I want Y/N”

You share another loving kiss before you hear loud cheering and hollering coming from inside. You both turn your heads to see the boys celebrating and acting like it’s New Year's. They start plummeting towards you both, patting Sam on the back and pushing him.

“Yeah, yeah. Chill out guys” Sam demands, smiling and shoving them backwards.

You stare at them smiling and laughing at their antics, until you see your brother standing in the doorway.

“You have my blessing by the way,” He says with a smirk.

“Like I need it” You retort rolling your eyes at his cockiness.

You stand up and follow him inside, while the boys continue to gush about how they can finally stop hearing Sam’s sad and depressing thoughts about you.

Your brother tells you that he didn’t mean to react the way he did but the wolf can be hard to control. He informs you about all that he’s been going through these past months and how he wanted to tell you and your parents for so long, but since Sam is the alpha what he says goes. You tell him to go see your parents tomorrow and how much pain he has caused the family.

After the talk, you both head down to the beach and sit around the fire. You’re cuddling with Sam, surrounded by everyone laughing and enjoying the clear-skied night. You realize this is exactly where you want to be. This is exactly what you’ve wanted for a long time. You’re going to love this new life that is forming in front of you.

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princessmisery666 · 9 months ago

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Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you!

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.

“That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”

If only she knew.

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks.

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.

“I did it already,” he calls after you.

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.

“Say what?”

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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schrijverr · 11 months ago

Text

Jason’s Shitty Day

Jason gets arrested by Superman and Wonder Woman, while undercover as Red Hood in a criminal organization. Problem is that they don’t know he knows Batman and trying to get free only poses more problems. Especially when it’s Dick, not Bruce that comes to break him free.

This work is inspired by Undercover by InvalidStuff on AO3.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jason curses under his breath as he runs for his life through the streets of Metropolis. He can’t believe that this is how he’s going to die for the second time in his life; by the hands of the blue boy scout and his idol.

Okay, maybe he’s being a dramatic, like Bruce they try not to kill their villains, but unlike Bruce they don’t have a strict no killing policy backed up by trauma, so there is a gray area and Jason knows he’s made himself a prime target, being at the top of the Justice League wanted list and all.

Right now it seems ridiculous how he lorded that over the little demon spawn last time they all ate dinner together. The shrimp might not be an assassin anymore, but he still envies Jason’s notoriety all the same.

It’s one of the reasons he told B not to remove him, something he’s regretting now as he rounds a corner, nearly slamming into the building in his haste.

A part of him knows that running is useless, both Superman and Wonder Woman stumbled upon him in an attempt to dismantle the same organization he’s been involving himself in. They assumed him to be the ring leader, because of course they are one of the few members of the Justice League that are actually up to date on their wanted list.

Fucking fuck!

If this were Gotham, he would have had the upper hand, since he knows the terrain and both would be more cautious taking anyone down when Batman forbids metas in his city. However, here in Metropolis he’s more easily confused and the bright city doesn’t allow for him to slip out from under the sight of two of the most powerful people on earth.

So, he isn’t that surprised when Superman’s shadow falls over him, right as he rounds another corner where he comes face to face with Wonder Woman.

He skids to a halt and curses his luck again. His admiration of Wonder Woman never wore off and he’ll likely never live down the mortification of meeting her like this. Right now, he really hates that Bruce is a paranoid fucker, who never let any of his kids near the Justice League. He totally would have made a better impression as the starry-eyed fucker he used to be back as Robin.

However, instead he’s stuck between her and Superman and the only thing he can do is attempt to fight them. Great. B is going to owe him for this.

Jason lets out a roar and charges towards Wonder Woman, whose lasso makes him trip. It forces him to hit the deck and within seconds, Superman is on him, wrestling him to the ground. Of course Jason puts up a fight, never stopping his movements as he kicks and bites, even though that hurts him more.

He knows that Superman is stronger than him, but he also knows that he is stronger than an eel, yet the bastards are hard to catch. So he tries his hardest to impersonate an eel.

A part of him hopes that there are no cameras nearby, because if Barbara or Tim get wind of this, they will get that footage and it will haunt him for the rest of his fucking life. The great Red Hood, wiggling on the ground, being mortified in front of stupid Superman and amazing Wonder Woman and over crimes he didn’t even commit. It’s shameful.

But nothing to be done about that now.

Still, he tries to maintain a little of his reputation, by threateningly growling: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” when Superman reaches out to take off his helmet.

Superman’s hand stills and he cautiously asks: “Why not?”

“Because the explosives will blow and you can say bye bye to my head,” Jason answers, hoping that now that they’ve apprehended him, they’re not planning on killing him.

“What?” Superman chokes, as Wonder Woman demands: “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Pays to be cautious,” Jason shrugs as well as he can while being bound on the floor. And it is being cautious, nothing more. He’s not paranoid like B is, no matter what Dickhead says. When you’re a dead man walking, it’s better for people not to know.

Superman likely uses his X-ray vision, because he’s quiet for a second, before he gasps, his hands twitching. However, Jason has to give him very, very minor credits for swiftly moving on with his interrogation after learning that – though perhaps that’s because he isn’t likely to get blown up alongside Jason, should the bomb go off.

“Your helmet is led lined,” Superman comments, actually sounding a bit miffed about it.

Jason has to swallow a snort and just shrugs again, this time with a bit more little shit thrown in, as he repeats: “Pays to be cautious.”

Wonder Woman apparently has had enough, because she tightens the lasso around his feet, making it glow as she asks: “What are you doing here?”

“Working,” Jason spits out, having trained with Bruce about being able to answer with truths without giving anything away. He is glad for that training now, but he still can’t believe that he is interacting with Wonder Woman and it’s like this.

“What kind of working?”

“Worming my way to the top.”

“You’re not the leader?” Superman asks, sounding surprised. Jason already guessed that they assumed that, but rolls his eyes anyway. Who goes in without doing any research? Do they not know the importance of intelligence?

“No, does this look like Crime Alley to you?” he shoots back.

“So what are you doing here outside Gotham then?” Wonder Woman asks.

It’s a valid question. And a question Jason can use. He’s obliged to tell the truth, but that doesn’t mean the whole truth, so he answers: “Worrying Batman.”

That makes the two heroes pause as they look at each other then back at him, suddenly a little less certain.

Under the mask, Jason grins. He and B still aren’t on perfect terms, but he doesn’t see green anymore whenever they’re face to face and they’ve actually been working on their relationship, hence Jason being at family dinners and out here doing this infiltration mission for the old man.

However, that answer can also be interpreted as him creating chaos that Batman is worrying about, which would make it an issue they’d call him about.

They already might have anyway, since he’s a Gotham rogue and they know Batman likes to deal with those himself, even if they can fall under another hero’s jurisdiction by not being in Gotham. But they also might not have. So, by doing this, he’s implying that whatever he’s doing is linked back to Gotham, which makes it so they’ll have to call B.

Usually, Jason doesn’t want Bruce’s help. Ever. Not when it comes to professional things. He is his own vigilante now, he’s independent and has his own plans. Batman should ask before interfering and Jason is too old and their relationship too tattered for a father figure to help. So, he’d be spitting and screaming whenever the old man even tries.

This time isn’t the same, though. This time he’s in bigger trouble than he’s ever been before and he can’t get out of it by himself. Well, he might, but only if they drop him off at a local police station, which isn’t likely to happen with how high-profile he is.

He can get out of prisons, of being kidnapped, being thrown into a space war, of being discovered as a mole, of nearly all torture. But the Justice League? He knows B grumbles about them being unprofessional, but they still hold a lot of power. He is screwed without B right now.

Still, Bruce has always stressed the importance of not letting anyone know they’re connected. To the League, Robin was never anything more than a rumor and Batman works alone. It’s to protect all of them and despite their past, Jason doesn’t want to endanger them… doesn’t want to disappoint Bruce either. Which is stupid and he’s ignoring it as hard as he can.

Besides, even if he tells them, they aren’t likely to believe him. And Jason doesn’t want the knowledge that he’s a good guy, playing a bad guy out on the streets. He admires Wonder Woman a lot, but her and Superman aren’t great liars. They’d tip people off and he can’t have that.

So, he has to convince Superman and Wonder Woman that they have to call Batman and maybe B can convince them to let him go.

The silence after his comment has dragged on for a bit. To take advantage of it, he chuckles: “Oh, big bad heroes didn’t see that coming? What? Did you think he scared me and I moved out? Tsk, don’t make me laugh. My haunt is still my haunt, all I do leads back home.”

Then he starts struggling again. They haven’t even bound his arms. It would have been better to try when they were still distracted, but they’ll likely capture him again and he has broken his bones enough times already, thank you very much. Better to play at being a flight risk so they’ll move him to a more comfortable place than the dirty street.

Indeed, Superman is played like a fiddle and hauls him upright, saying: “We’ll take you back to base for interrogation.”

Wonder Woman takes the lasso off his legs and instead binds his arms. Smart move on her part, though Jason can’t believe that neither of them question whether bringing a very dangerous criminal back to their base is a smart idea. Didn’t B train them better than this? Have some sort of secondary location for questioning people if you must, don’t bring them home!

However, he doesn’t mention it and lets them take him to a Zeta-Beam, so they can get to the Watchtower. It’s a step closer to B, thus a step closer to freedom, he isn’t going to argue with that. Let Batman rip into them when he finds out.

In the Watchtower, he’s sure to look around. Bruce has never let anyone in here, not even Barbara or Tim, who have to explain how to install the security updates at the Watchtower. God, they’re all going to be so pissed that he got there first.

To make up for that betrayal, he makes sure to look around as much as he can. They’ve of course all stalked the Watchtower on Babs’s monitors, but none of them have actually been, so he’ll have to be able replicate the vibes later.

The vibes are kind of sad.

A bit rude, maybe, but it’s true! It’s all metal and not even that toasty, nor cool, just that gross in between where a sweater is too hot, but you also feel kind of cold. It’s clear B has had input here, because he loves his professionalism.

Jason can still remember the Batcave in its infancy, how much he, Dick and Barbara had to influence before it became what it is now.

All the others don’t remember – except maybe for Tim, who had to pick Bruce out of his self hate spiral – but the Batcave didn’t used to be a little warm for recovering muscle soreness or the cold from outside, there didn’t used to be comfy couches, a fridge with snacks and drinks, or messy piles of works in progress.

He’s going to have a serious word with B when he gets out of here about why he hasn’t implemented anything like that here, when he knows that B naps on those couches and appreciates all the warmth the kids (ugh) brought into the Batcave.

… Well, maybe if he gets out of here, not when. The holding cell they’re pushing him into seems pretty secure and after a second, Jason recognizes it as a Superman containment unit that’s part of B’s contingencies. That makes it also pretty much anyone else proof too.

The shackles he’s locked into are meta proof, however, also Batman’s design, which means that Jason has made it his business to know how to get out of them, because he lives to spite the man most of the time.

Neither Superman nor Wonder Woman have spoken since they started hauling him off to his new little prison and Jason wonders if that is going to change or if they’re going to leave him again.

He also wonders if he should start spouting some sort of monologue to cement himself as a proper villain, but decides against it. It might interfere with a cover story to get him out of here. Anything you say can and will be used against you and all that shit. So, he stays quiet.

There is a chair in the chamber that he’s pushed on and Wonder Woman, starts to wrap her lasso around him again as she states: “We need to know more about this organization of yours. You fought us well and I commend your bravery, however, you posses information we need and you do not seem willing to part with it. But the lasso will make you speak the truth.”

Alarm bells start ringing in Jason’s head, despite feeling thrilled that Wonder Woman just complimented him, so he immediately says: “Hey, hey, hey, can you even do that? Isn’t that unconstitutional or some shit? I mean, I think you need a permit or something to question me like that, I know good old Bats is always up his own ass about right channels and court permissions, shouldn’t you read me my rights? I’ve been arrested enough times to know that’s part of it.”

Red Hood has absolutely not been arrested ever, Jason Todd has, but that’s irrelevant right now. He knows he can’t keep up half truths forever and the actual truth can’t come spilling out. Right now he needs to ensure that Wonder Woman keeps that lasso away from him and remind them that he’s a rogue of Batman, so that they’ll contact him.

Wonder Woman pauses for a second and looks at Superman, who is more versed than her in the world of men.

“He has a point, if this goes deeper than a surface drug deal, then we’ll need to ensure all of them go away for life,” Superman says.

At that Jason would let out a breath of relief, if he hadn’t been trained better than that. He does, however, let his eyes roll, because Supes over there can’t see it and he is allowed to be annoyed that they think it is just some drug bust when Jason has been working for two months to get this neck deep into very fucking shady shit.

“Batman must have some protocol about it,” Wonder Woman says. “I shall look it up, so that we may proceed.”

“You’re not going to call him?” Jason asks, a little surprised, because surely that would be easier than going through the thousands of pages of protocol that B wrote.

Superman squints. “You seem eager to get Batman up here,” he comments. “That’s unusual, most want nothing to do with him. Why?”

Fuck.

He’s used to Gotham villains, who regularly kidnap Batman and want him to pay attention to them, not this fear that he has outside of Gotham. It’s easy to forget too, because B is one of the least scary people Jason knows. Hell, even Dick ranks above him in scariness.

Still, he doesn’t let that show, instead leaning back in his chair as casual as he can, smirking: “I guess, I just appreciate the devil I know is all. You two seem a little boring, no offense.”

“Well, that’s new,” Superman comments and Jason wants to throttle him, because he’s horrible at not letting any information slip past the cracks – and yes, personal relations and reputations are definitely information – he’ll have to remember to mention that to Bruce too.

In the end, Wonder Woman goes to contact Batman and look over their protocol, while Superman stays to watch Jason. It’s the first sensible thing they’ve done, not leaving him alone that is. A part of Jason wants to be annoyed, because now he can’t switch on the com with Babs, since Superman will hear, but he’s just relieved that they have a sense of knowing what to do.

So, they sit in silence.

Superman tries to chat a few times, but Jason knows better than that. You don’t talk, not even small talk. Anything is prying when you’re being interrogated, even if they just want to know your opinion on the weather. Which is making the atmosphere quite awkward.

Luckily, they’re freed from the silence five minutes later when Wonder Woman returns. She says: “Batman says he’ll be here in ten minutes and to not touch or question Red Hood until he gets here.”

Jason is too relieved by the news to judge her for saying that in front of him. Soon B will be here and then he will talk Jason out of here and he’ll be home before he knows it. After today, he can probably convince Alfred to bake cookies with him too. Score.

For the next ten minutes, the atmosphere doesn’t get much better. Jason feels a little more inclined to talk to Wonder Woman, but she is taking Batman’s instructions seriously and with Jason in the room, none of the conversations between Superman and Wonder Woman really take off.

Then the door opens to reveal Batman. For a second Jason can feel a weight be lifted off of him, but then he looks again. The figure is not Bruce, it’s Dick.

What the fuck.

If he weren’t wearing the helmet, he could make a face to demand an explanation, but for now his shoulders will have to do. However, Dick has always been bad at reading Jason’s shoulders when he’s chained up and Jason has a harder time with Dick’s face when he’s playing Batman. So whatever information flow there might have been gets lost in translation.

Dick is one of the few that know Jason did theater in High School, so he’s probably counting on Jason’s yes-and-bullshitting. Which is the only thing that prepares Jason for whatever nonsense he is about to pull out of his ass.

He can’t believe they’re going to lie to Superman and Wonder Woman. What a day this is shaping up to be.

“Hi Batsy,” he grins, hoping that him recognizing Dick will strengthen the cover.

“Red Hood,” Dick greets back. “I knew I’d run into you at some point with this. I’m disappointed, you were doing so well last time. What happened?”

“You know me, I never keep my nose clean,” Jason shoots back, because he’s a crime lord and he doesn’t plan on changing that. His family knows that.

Dick fakes a sigh and sternly says: “You were at least staying in Gotham.” Then he turns to the others and asks: “Where did you find him?” like he didn’t know already.

“Batman, I am glad you came,” Wonder Woman greets. “We have apprehended Red Hood in a drug bust in Metropolis, but we need more information from him. He claims his organization goes back to Gotham, if this goes deeper, we need to know.”

Tsk, what ‘his organization’? Jason had nothing to do with this. Terrible reporting. She could have used ‘the organization’, way more accurate and- oh god, now he’s judging Wonder Woman!

Dick as Batman grunts in acknowledgment and Wonder Woman continues: “We found him in the middle of the warehouse district. The others got away.”

Jason notes that Superman hasn’t said anything yet and shoots him a covert glance. He is frowning at Dick. Jason curses. Dick can do a good Batman when he wants to, but when he does that, he is usually not in good lighting with people who work with the actual Batman regularly.

So, he keeps an eye on the man as Dick gruffly says: “Thank you. I have been tracking his organization these past weeks, if I had known he would branch out, I would have contacted you. I’ll take him back to Gotham for proper interrogation and loop you back in once I know more.”

At that both Superman and Wonder Woman start to look more suspicious and Jason just knows that Dick is going to rip into B later, because why the hell are they surprised at him saying thanks?

Superman finally speaks up: “Why have you been tracking his organization, when he claimed he wasn’t the ringleader when we caught him?”

Damn those investigative reporter instincts, Jason thinks. He needs to distract them from Dick, so they won’t ask any more question. So, he calls out: “I mean, I practically was. Gotham branch is all mine.”

Eyes are back on him, great. Or, well, not truly great, because he hasn’t thought much further than that, but great as in, there is a distraction.

“Red Hood,” Dick admonishes, though Jason can see the relief in his shoulders.

So, he shrugs: “What? I like getting proper credit.”

“Well, you can tell the GCPD all about the things you deserve credit for,” Dick says, leaning in close as he growls.

Fuck, Jason is so making fun of him for that later. After he busted him out of here. Because right now, he has an act to play if he wants to see freedom again. And if he’s honest, he really likes his freedom.

However, before Dick can haul him out of his seat and break him out of here, they’re stopped by Superman: “We caught him in Metropolis, I’d like to question him here first.”

“And he’s my rogue, messing in my city,” Dick snipes back. “He’s got his fingers in all types of pies and I’d like to get him behind bars for it as quick as possible. My way. Because that way works.”

Jason studies Superman and Wonder Woman closely. Dick used the pie expressions, B never is one for expressions, much less pie related ones. And it seems the League figured that out too, because there is a tenseness in their shoulders that wasn’t there before.

Dick must have noticed too, but he’s awaiting their response so he can play into it. However, both know for sure that they’re screwed when Wonder Woman says: “I know you have your way, but you have rarely denied the use of my lasso, especially if it would help your city.”

“Yeah, and you would never just take him without getting more information from us first,” Superman adds. “Who are you?”

“I’m Batman,” Dick repeats, though that’s clearly not going to cut it with the way the two heroes start to close in on him. Jason is starting to feel he’s gonna be on his own here again real soon.

“You’re not. Your heartbeat is wrong,” Superman says.

“Rude, my heart could just have been having an off day,” Dick retorts, obviously giving up on the facade as he darts out of the way and ducks under their attacks and out of the door.

Wonder Woman sets off after him, Superman closely behind. It’s reminiscent of earlier today but then with Dick in Jason’s position. Jason takes a moment to be smug that Dick is definitely getting caught on camera, before taking off through the door himself.

It’s another mental note to bring up to B later and he is starting to wonder if he even trained these people, because that’s truly an amateur’s mistake. Though, perhaps they can be forgiven with the shock of someone managing to break in to the Watchtower without detection while pretending to be one of their own.

His arms are still in the shackles, but there is no time to pick them. Jason also has Zeta-Beam access, if he can just reach the terminal, he’ll be out of here. He’s sure Dick can either talk himself out or that he can come up with a better rescue plan than that.

Where the hell even is the actual Batman? You know, Bruce Wayne?

No time to think about that now, he tells himself, putting the thought out of his mind. He is quickly following the route they’d taken when he got here, but in the opposite direction. He grins when the terminal comes into view.

Skidding to a halt, he quickly starts to put in coordinates. Any coordinates at this point. He’s not used to it, never really traveling via Zeta-Beam much. He hopes he remembers the coordinates of the Batcave after B’s insistence they all learn them and he won’t end up in the middle of the ocean or some shit.

However, before he can beam away, Dick crashes into him when he comes flying into the entrance hall, obviously having thought the same thing as Jason. Only he has two heroes on his trail.

“Fucking fight, Dick,” Jason screams, not even caring that he used the real name, because with Dick you can get away with that. As he attempts to type even faster to get them both away.

Alas, it’s not meant to be, because while Dick is a worthy opponent, he’s fighting two of the most powerful people on their home turf and he doesn’t have anything to fight them with, except for B’s gear that he is less familiar with than his own.

So, while he gets a few good punches in, soon he and Jason are dragged away from the terminal and wrestled to the ground. Now Dick in shackles too.

“Way to go, asshat,” Jason bitches as he lies on the ground for the second time today.

“Oh, like you could have done better. I make a great Batman,” Dick bitches back.

Right at the moment, Flash comes running in, confusedly asking: “What the hell’s happening? I saw it on the monitors, but I didn’t know who to go after first and- Wait, why is Batman in chains? Is he brainwashed?”

“See,” Dick exclaims delightedly. “Flash thinks I make a good Batman.”

“What?” Flash asks confused.

Superman says: “It’s not Batman.”

“He’s not?” Flash says, sounding surprised as he leans over to take a better look.

“Ha!” Dick crows as Jason hisses: “Shut your mouth, dumbass.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Batman?” Wonder Woman exclaims, digging her knee into Dick’s back and making him grunt. Jason has no pity after that stupid stunt.

“I’m Nightwing,” Dick answers and Jason tries to send him a ‘wtf’-look, but is ignored. “I’m a vigilante. I work in Blüdhaven. It’s Gotham’s sister city. Batman’s tied up at the moment, asked me to go in his stead. He didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Lies,” Wonder Woman says.

“Batman would contact us ourselves, not trick us. He’s our ally and we know him,” Superman states confidently.

“No, you misunderstand. He’s quite literally tied up,” Dick says and it dawns on Jason that Bruce Wayne must have been kidnapped when the call came through. In enough of a bind that a miraculous escape would put their identities at stake. Just great. Fucking great.

“He’s taken? We must save him,” Wonder Woman says.

“That’s not necessary,” Dick backtracks, realizing his mistake. “We already have someone on it, don’t worry.”

“Who?” Jason asks.

“The day shift,” Dick answers and Jason mentally translates that to Duke. Good for him. It’s very useful to have someone out there during the day for situations like this.

“Wait, is he claiming to know Batman?” Flash asks. “I mean, I know he’s dressed like Batman, but being captured and all, I thought he was kind of impersonating him and hatching some nefarious scheme, not, like, covering his shift.”

“He is impersonating Batman,” Superman says. “And we can’t trust his claims. He’s here to rescue Red Hood and he is one of Batman’s villains.”

“Oh, so they know him from fighting him,” Flash says, getting what Superman is implying.

“Where have you taken Batman!” Wonder Woman demands.

“I haven’t taken him! Batman isn’t taken,” Dick yelps. “His civvie ID is and he is getting rescued.”

“You know his secret identity? We don’t even know his identity,” Flash exclaims, actually pouting.

“Yes, I know his ID,” Dick says, almost desperate, Jason would feel bad, but he’s kind of given up and is just laying there. “You can check the Zeta-Beam logs, I’m Nightwing, I have access. I work in Gotham’s sister city, we team up sometimes. I know Batman, I promise. I’m just helping him out.”

“Helping him out by getting Red Hood out?” Superman asks, obviously not believing it.

Dick knows how it sounds and lets out a frustrated scream. “Yes!” he insists again. “How did you contact him to come here? How could I have known to come?”

That makes them pause for a second, before Superman shakes his head: “You could have intercepted the message.”

“I didn’t, you know how paranoid B is, his shit is unhackable,” Dick says.

“B?” Flash repeats to himself and Jason mentally face palms. It’s sweet that Dick tried to rescue him, but he feels like he only made it worse.

“We don’t know, maybe you could,” Superman says.

“Oh, he could be a shape-shifter, who took on Batman’s identity and hid the real Batman somewhere else to masquerade as him and help his fellow villains in some sort of plot,” Flash spins a theory.

Now Jason groans out loud and thunks his head on the floor, the impact dampened by his helmet, which is luckily still on. “Why the fuck would he then not take the exact form of Batman?” he asks, exasperated.

“Exactly, just check the logs, I’m Nightwing,” Dick backs him up, almost begging at this point.

“You could have faked that, if you intercepted the message,” Wonder Woman says, not letting Dick up for a second.

“It would make sense,” Flash nods.

“It would?” Superman asks and Jason curses. They should have pushed, the boy scout might have believed them, but the moment’s gone now.

“Yeah, if we bought it, then he could pretend to be Batman for forever and we wouldn’t be suspicious if he acted out of character, because he was a different person, but in our perception still a good guy. It’s smart,” Flash shrugs.

Jason really hates his life, because the Flash is making kind of sense and it appears that there not going anywhere anytime soon.

“I’ll contact Oracle again, Batman’s AI won’t be compromised where his phone might,” Wonder Woman says and Jason has to do a double take. They think Barbara is an AI?

He and Dick share a confused look, however when they hear Barbara pick up, Dick takes the moment to scream: “Tell B to get his ass over here.”

Jason immediately joins in: “O, I’ll owe you if you get me out of here in the next 30 minutes.”

Now all of the heroes present are giving the two of them a confused look as Wonder Woman relays: “We have Red Hood here and an impostor claiming to be Batman. Where is Batman, Oracle? Is he safe?”

While he can’t make out what she’s saying from here, Jason can still hear the amusement in Barbara’s voice as she answers Wonder Woman.

However, whatever she said, must be enough, because when Wonder Woman hangs up, she says: “If our friend does not show up within the next twenty minutes, we are free to go search for him.”

That’s quite fast, Jason thinks. If he could have gotten here so fast, why send Dick first? Jason could have waited for actual Batman. Dick must think the same, because he makes a confused noise, which turns into a little yelp, when Wonder Woman drags him to his feet. Jason starts laughing at him, but gets cut off when he gets hauled to his feet too.

They don’t leave for the cells again though, apparently they’ve decided to hang around here while they wait for B to show up. Flash does leave however, having been on monitor duty before the whole drama went down.

While they wait, Wonder Woman reaches out to Dick, saying: “Let’s reveal your true identity, impostor.”

“No, wait!” Dick yells. “The code states that as a hero, I cannot be discowled or unmasked without my explicit approval. I state that I am Nightwing, a hero, unless you can prove that I am not who I claim I am, you are not allowed to do that.”

Wonder Woman stills again, then asks: “How do you know that?”

“Uhm, I work with B, you really think he doesn’t make me memorize those codes?” Dick shoots back. “And if you knew it wasn’t allowed, why would you do that?” Another thing for on the list.

“You’re clearly a villain, that code does not apply,” Wonder Woman states.

“No, you think I’m a villain. Innocent until proven guilty,” Dick corrects.

“You broke into the Watchtower, that’s not screaming innocent,” Superman points out, which is kind of valid, but Jason has sat in enough on court trails against his own men. He knows that shit wouldn’t necessarily hold up.

“I had a good reason,” Dick huffs and Jason ignores how touched he is that Dick thinks that freeing him is a good enough reason to risk getting destroyed by the Justice League over.

After that, they’re all silent. Wonder Woman and Superman do try to talk with them again, but Dick knows, just as Jason does, that it’s smarter to keep your mouth shut. So they wait quietly as the minutes tick by.

It takes a long time.

By the time they hit seventeen minutes, Jason is starting to get worried B won’t get here in time and then they’ll have to deal with Superman and Wonder Woman tearing into Gotham to try and find their Batman.

Whenever they civvie IDs get taken hostage, it’s usually a media circus after and that’s when rescue doesn’t take overtime. He doesn’t know how Bruce is going to duck out of it. Maybe he has already failed.

Fucking fuck, how badly can one day go? How badly can Jason screw up that he hasn’t just compromised himself and his relation to Batman, but also Dick’s connection to both of them and risked Gotham’s entire vigilante population being found out by two metas, who will go into the city without permission.

It’s clear that Wonder Woman and Superman are getting antsy too, continuously checking the time and looking at the Zeta-Beam, waiting for it to come to life.

Just as they hit the nineteen minute mark, the Zeta-Beam whirs and the crisp voice announces Batman’s arrival. The man himself appearing like some water in the desert, dressed in his previous suit, though his arm is in a cast.

“Batman!” Wonder Woman exclaims in relief, as Superman worries: “What happened to you?”

“A minor mishap,” B replies. And Jason curses, it’s going to be a bitch to keep him out of the field like that and it doesn’t help prove their innocence in the slightest.

“I thought you were going to be busy for way longer,” Dick accuses, probably having been as surprised as Jason was that he could get here this fast.

“Signal is getting better and the broken arm helped me avoid the whole media circus,” Bruce explains apologetically.

“You actually know these two, Batman?” Superman asks, sounding a little hurt, betrayed and confused all at the same time.

“Yes, I honestly thought you wouldn’t notice Nightwing running this errand for me while I was preoccupied,” Batman informs them. “If I had known how today would run, I would have waited and retrieved Red Hood myself.”

There is absolutely no apology in his voice and it’s now doubly confirmed that Dick’s thank you had been a dead give away. Why is he being a dick to his friends? They all would have gotten a sorry if B pulled this shit on them. Dick is so going to lecture him.

“I demand an explanation,” Wonder Woman frowns. “That one is a criminal and we have not heard of Nightwing before. Why does he have access here? Why are you helping Red Hood?”

Batman sighs as if he’d seen this coming, but was hoping it wouldn’t happen. Then he says: “I’m here because Red Hood was undercover for me, you blew his mission. I send Nightwing to get him, because I trust him.”

“And not us?” Superman asks, even more hurt than before. “Batman, you thought we wouldn’t notice you being an entirely different person. You tried to trick us and never even informed us Red Hood worked for you.”

“Hey! I don’t work for that asshole,” Jason snaps, already annoyed since B blew the cover he worked so hard to keep, even if he wasn’t likely to get out of this without giving something away. He knows it’s stupid too, especially in these circumstances, but it’s always been a sensitive topic for him.

Superman and Wonder Woman now look between him and B and B explains: “He’s an independent vigilante, but we team up. I asked his help, he did it as a favor. I never told you, because telling you would compromise him. If we can spin this, it might solidify his standing in the organization, if you had known, you might have let him go and they might not have believed you. It was better this way.”

“I’m really starting to feel like you trust them more than us and that you’ve been lying,” Superman frowns. “We have always respected your privacy and not pried. But you’re keeping things from us. Important things. Things related to our work. And that’s not okay.”

Batman is now between a rock and a hard place and Jason would be more sympathetic if it weren’t B.

“There’s a reason I’m keeping this particular thing,” Batman says without offering any further explanation.

“This is no way to treat your fellow warriors,” Wonder Woman exclaims.

“I’m with her,” Dick pipes up.

“Me too,” Jason adds, because like hell is he siding with Bruce over Wonder Woman.

“You and me both know that we right here, are old enough that you don’t have to do this,” Dick says, almost imploring and Jason holds his breath. He can’t believe Dick is asking Bruce to break their non-association vow here.

“What is he talking about?” Superman demands. “How do you know them?”

B is quiet, assessing the situation, then he utters words Jason never thought he’d hear in front of anyone associated with the League. “They are my sons. I raised them. That’s why I trust them and why I’m here to get them.”

It’s deathly silent for a second, then both Wonder Woman and Superman burst with outrage of never having been told, of being kept in the dark with information like this. How did Batman keep this from them? Why?

Letting them rage for a moment, B speaks up again once they’ve quieted down: “They weren’t always adults and I didn’t know you well enough. I wasn’t going to endanger them. What if you were mind controlled or turned against me? They couldn’t become a target.”

“So what about I work alone?” Superman huffs. “We put effort into pulling you into our group.”

“And that is appreciated and it does take effort to learn how to work together, even if you’re already familiar with teamwork,” B counters. “But yes, I did lie. Having a certain persona here helped keep my children safe. I don’t regret it.”

Despite wanting to be better than this, Jason’s still touched that B would go this far for them. It has always been an insecurity of his, so no matter how shitty it is to the League, he can’t help but feel happy that Bruce chose him over them. That he doesn’t regret it.

Dick, however, doesn’t have that as much and has a different reaction. He pulls free from Wonder Woman’s grip, slackened by circumstance, and says: “And your persona is asshole? Jesus Christ, B, the least you can do is apologize. They got suspicious of me saying thank you, Agent A raised you better than that.”

B at least has the decency to look a little sheepish at that, shocking the two heroes and then shocking them even more when he says: “I am sorry for the trouble.”

“Great,” Jason breaks the tension, stepping away from Superman, because he’s had a roller coaster of a day and he is done. “Glad we got that all settled then. Nice to meet you two, let’s not do it again. If your see me, you don’t know me. Now, let’s to get out of here.”

“Wait, we want more answers,” Wonder Woman stops them.

“Wonder Woman,” B says, finally sounding like himself, tired and a little gruff, but not unkind. “I broke my arm less than an hour ago, I’ve been patrolling all week with three separate Arkham escapes and my kids just got chased and locked up. I need a moment. Promise that I’ll explain better tomorrow. Make it a meeting if you must.”

She still looks reluctant, but Superman is already won over. His kindness is easy to exploit Jason notes out of habit.

“Alright, Batman, but I expect you not to duck out,” he says.

With Superman allowing them to leave, Wonder Woman agrees too: “Yes, answers can come tomorrow. But know that I will come into Gotham to find you, should you not arrive.”

Jason sees Dick suppressing a snort. He has to agree that. With the forewarning and all of them there, they could stop her should B not want to go tomorrow. They’re not going to, B can face his own consequences and Jason doesn’t actually want to fight Wonder Woman, but it speaks to both of their naivety about their city.

“Thank you,” B says, probably feeling he’ll worsen Dick’s lecture otherwise.

Then he punches in his code on the Zeta-Beam and they’re in the Batcave before they know it, Barbara and Alfred waiting for them.

Barbara smirks: “You have no intention of letting them know about the others, do you?” Jason guesses she had already been here with Dick as often happens whenever one of them is kidnapped as a civilian.

“No,” B grunts.

Jason rolls his eyes and finally removes his helmet, holding out his shackles for Bruce to undo without a word. He’s going to crash in his room upstairs, eat some of Alfred’s delicious cooking and then come up with some way to make this whole thing work for him. He’s already invested two months in this stupid op, he’s not letting one shitty day ruin it.

While B undoes his shackles, Dick bounces over to Babs to let her undo his, saying: “Do you know the Justice League thinks you’re an AI?”

“Of course, people tell secrets to computers, not people they’ve never met before,” Babs shrugs easily.

“Oh you’re evil,” Dick grins and Jason agrees with a nod.

Now free, he also makes his way over to her and says: “What do I have to do to get the footage of Dickiebird here getting wrecked by Superman and Wonder Woman?”

“Hey, you got destroyed too,” Dick pouts.

“Not in the Watchtower while dressed as B. I looked cool,” Jason counters, half of that a lie. Fuck, he really hopes Babs hasn’t already found footage of his own take down.

“Get me those snacks I like next time you’re abroad and I’ll throw them in the group chat,” she says.

“Deal,” he shakes her hand, before Dick can interfere.

“You two are so mean,” he pouts even more. “You got taken down too, bet you looked stupid.”

“I did not,” Jason protests immediately, his cheeks feeling hot.

“Camera footage says otherwise,” Babs grins evilly, because she’s an evil evil-doer, who is out to get Jason with her evil ways.

“DO not show him that!” he shrieks, jumping to get her hands away from the keyboards, before she can pull it up, while Dick tries to fight him off so she can.

A part of him still can’t believe that today he nearly died for the second time at the hands of the blue boy scout and his idol, nor that Dick broke in to the Watchtower dressed as Batman to come get him.

Later he’ll have to deal with B’s paranoia over the Justice League knowing about him and Dick, write a report about the weak points of the Justice League, then worry about his own mission and all of that will be a hassle. But right now he’s worrying about making sure his eel footage never sees the light of day and wrestling with his brother and Babs.

All in all, today could have been worse.

A/N:

I don’t think the Justice League is incompetent btw, I think Jason (and the other bats) are just kind of intense with their own security and a little judgmental.

#rr writing #batman #justice league #jl #jla #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #superman #wonder woman #dick grayson #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #flash #red hood #dc #dc comics

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rafecameronsslutt · 1 year ago

Text

Toxic Possessive! Rafe x Carrera Fem! Reader

↳⇁ You Can't Seem To Escape Toxic a Relationship, With Rafe.

Warnings! Rafe being Aggressive and Possessive Reader wanting to Leave.

You Were Finally able to do good for yourself. Without Rafe knowing You Only Wanted a peaceful life without the constant Thought of Rafe arguing with you over some stupid shit. You hated when he took control of your own life, as in: what you could wear, Where you could go. or who you could talk to you.

Rafe Even hated your friends which were. Pouge's Except for one and that was your sister Kiara Carrera she tried numerus times to help you leave Rafe but what ever you tried to do always failed miserable being caught and trapped in his arms once again for the last time.

You Loved Rafe, But his ways made you want to hide and run away forever but the consequences of that sudden action would cost you maybe even your life if you weren't careful enough the constant bickering of Rafe telling you if you ever try to leave him he would hunt you down if he has to caused you to be slightly afraid and began to overthink a little bit.

but he could be just saying that to make you stay Right? or so you thought. You were hanging out with Kie and Sarah at your place your parents were home they wouldn't be back until summer break was over they left a spear key just in case you and Kie needed anything or for Emergencies.

''were are they boys?' you asked Kie You haven't seen JJ, Pope or John B since earlier today they were out getting snacks and drinks to celebrate summer break with each other while waiting you and the girls decided to take some funny pictures with each other.

'' omg you should def post that!'' Sarah said in an excited Tone. Even when You were dating her brother you didn't really mind Hanging with Sarah she was anything like her brother Rafe it was like you could tell her any and everything.

''I'll be right back guys I'm going to go use the bathroom'' they nodded understanding You took your phone with you just in case mom and dad had called you. You soon felt the vibration of your phone. it was Rafe calling you. with slight hesitation you answered putting the phone on speaker.

"hey baby what's Up?'' you asked as you pretended to fix your hair in the mirror Rafe only started at you with a smirk attached to his face.

''Nothing much, What are you doing?'' You shrugged mentioning how you were hanging out with Sarah and your sister. right along with the others would swing by.

you would see the way you mentioned. Pope, JJ and john B coming over Rafe Didn't like that you would always hang around them he came quite Possessive when you were around them not caring if they were your friends or not.

''Y/n you know I don't like when their around you I want you to come stay with me tonight'' You rolled your eyes this was the night you had free time away from Rafe and you of course wasn't going to let him spoil it nor ruin it for you.

''Rafe no tonight is special and I can't just up and leave them'' Hoping he would at least give in you had pleaded.

''Y/n Don't start with your fucking stubbornness okay do as I asked you to'' his voice stern and deep with command.

"No Rafe I'll Call You when I'm done and then come over right now I wanna enjoy my time with my friends'' With that you didn't give him enough time to respond once you clicked the red button hanging up in his face which you wouldn't suspect would be a problem later on.

once you made it back to the living room you saw that they had started without you.

''there she is our favorite kook'' JJ yelled you gave him a unsatisfactory look of unprovable.

"eww Shut up JJ I rather be with the Pouge's because I Love you guys so much'' Sarah awed as she laid her head on your shoulder.

"says the one dating a kook aka being Sarah's brother'' Pope says smartly causing you to roll your eyes at him directly.

''shut up at least I'm still not a fucking virgin'' JJ and John B snickered trying to hold back a laugh which they failed at.

"okay that's fair'' pope pouted feeling defeated which he was.

A couple of hours had passed, and you couldn't fight the feeling of Rafe Being angry at you You had goosebumps maybe he wouldn't be too made right?

You Knew Rafe hated when you would also disobey him but you couldn't help but wanting to be with your friends and enjoying the laughter of each other it made you feel good inside.

''you guys we should play truth or dare'' Sarah mentioned and suggested you nodded in agreement and amusement. JJ lifted his eyebrows In a questioning manner.

"I'll play only if it's spicy'' John B added Kie simply rolled her eyes but agreed to play anyways because she was only bored.

''I'll go first truth or dare JJ?'' Sarah asked JJ thought for a moment before going a simple Truth.

''alright is it true that you and Kie got down and dirty in Y/n's room'' JJ and Kie both Looked at each other before turning there gaze towards you you looked at both of them disgusted.

"WHAT THE FUCK THAT'S DISGUSTING'' you yelled.

" i promise it was just on the floor and plus my room was flooded and mom and dad were in the house and your room is soundproof'' Kie says.

"says the kook who fucked her boyfriend in the back yard of John B's house'' you flicked JJ off.

"okay Pope Truth or dare'' Pope right away chose dare in his own Amusement because he wasn't a pussy like anyone else or so he would say.

''I dare you to make out with Y/n'' you and pope gasped you were really close friends but you never imagined kissing him before and the same with pope to you. but it was only a dare no feelings attached what so ever.

''are you sure you want to?'' Pope asked wanting your full consent before caring on with the stupid dare. you nodded only wanting to get this over with, Pope scoots closer towards you before grabbing the side of your face attaching his lips with yours.

''THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!'' the sudden sound of your boyfriends deep booming voice echoed causing you to jump and pull away from pope with a harsh shove. you felt the harsh tug of rafe yanking you up dragging you outside to his truck.

"ow Rafe the hell Let me Go!'' you yelled he slams your back against his truck causing you to wince out in pain.

''YOUR SUCH A FUCKING SLUT YOU KNOW THAT, FIRST YOU WANNA HANG UP ON ME TWO DISOBEY ME AND THREE KISS THAT LOW DOWN FUCKING POUGE YOUR THAT FUCKING DICK HUNGRY HUH? Rafe grabs your face squeezing tightly you clawed at his hand as tears peaked from your eyes.

"Rafe Let me Go Your Hurting me!'' You Yelled Out. Rafe didn't even think twice as he continued to yell in your face.

''WHEN WE GET HOME YOUR FUCKING OVER DO YOU UNDERSTANND ME THIS WILL BE THE FINALE TIME YOU FUCKING FUCK ME OVER!' Rafe then opens the truck door roughly shoving you inside. without even saying anything to your sister or your friends guess you would have to text kie later. because Rafe wasn't gonna let you out of his sight.

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ukranianacearo · 3 months ago

Note

You asked for Kid requests? Oh hoh hoh, well I've /got/ Kid requests.

Okay, so an idea I have is Kid being with a girl who's kinda like the tichular character from Komi Can't Communicate. They come off as cool and collected, mysterious even. But they're actually just a socially anxious weeb/nerd who doesn't know how to people. She's always the kid in the back of class everyone is too afraid to talk to because she's either thought of as scary or too cool to talk to. And of course, since no one is too cool for Kid, he'd talk to her, finds out she's a loveable dorkfish like him, and the rest is history.

Any pronouns are okay but she/her or they/them is preferred!

-𓆣

The two of us could reach the stars

Komi-san!Fem!Reader

Tw: social anxiety maybe?

Pairing: Death, the kid x fem!Reader

Synopsis: Since Kid's first day at the Academy, he heard a lot of whispers and rumors about a certain classmate that always sits at the back of the class.

Genre: I guess fluff or something like that

Author's note: YAYAYAYAY anon𓆣 I love you sm, you're my savior. Also, I never watched Komi-sama can't communicate so the fact that you explained her character more in depth helps me a lot😭 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like this and there may be mistakes, bc English isn't my first language and I didn't proofread this

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- "That girl is so weird, she never talks and always avoids people. What is it with her?" - BlackStar complained loudly as he and the group were going to the class.

- "You shouldn't talk like that about her, BlackStar..." - Tsubaki tried to calm down the blue haired boy. She was obviously curious about the girl too, but the girl herself didn't seem very interested in them.

- "Who are you talking about anyway?" - Kid, who was still on his first week at the Academy, asked.

- "Oh, that's right, you probably don't know, Kid, since you're still new. There's a girl in our class that's always in the back and she almost never talks. She's very smart tho, always making it to the top 3." - Explained patiently Maka.

- "She remind me of a ghost. Kinda mysterious, but also almost non existent at some point." - Added in a murmur Soul.

- "Hah, she must have that from me. My shining greatness is so illuminating that she decided to try and be like me. Not like she will ever reach my greatness." - Commented BlackStar again. Kid didn't take that seriously, for BlackStar is just bubbling non sense. They finally arrived to the classroom everyone was going to their seats.

- "Look, Kid, she's that girl sitting at the back." - Maka said as she looked at the mysterious girl. Kid followed her gaze and saw a girl their age. He must admit, she did have a mystical vibe around her. Maybe he should talk to her, but how?

...

- "Liz, Patty, go without me, I have something else I have to do." - Said Kid as he left the classroom.

- "Oh? Alright, take care." - Liz answered. As Kid walked out of the classroom, he could see the one who he wanted to talk to. He picked up the pace, since he could see that the person was getting further away. The crowd of individuals that has formed in the halls didn't help.

As he got to an empty hall, he finally could see the enigmatic girl. He hurried his footing and soon enough, he caught up to her.

- "Hey." - He called out to her and as if pulled out of a trance, the girl slowly turned around to see Kid behind her. Her upper body was slightly leaned away from Kid. She didn't answer Kid, even if she wanted, he soon started talking again. - "You're that girl who got everyone and their grandmas intrigued, right? I'm Death, the Kid, son of Lord Death. You actually are quite interesting and symmetrical, so what do you say to talking sometimes?" - The girl expression didn't change much, at least to Kid's impression. She shook her head slightly in affirmation, her school bag still in her hands by the handles. - "Alright, then it's settled. Now, I have matters to attend so farewell for the time being. I'll see you around." - with that, Kid went back the same way he came as the girl just stood there looking at him as he was leaving.

...

- "Today she will finally hear it from THE BlackStar!" - as usual, BlackStar was causing quite the scene when Kid saw him and Tsubaki pass by in the hallway. There weren't that many people around, so the sound of BlackStar's voice was echoing throughout the tall walls of the halls. Suddenly, Kid saw the girl who BlackStar was complaining about coming right at BlackStar and Tsubaki from the other hall. The girl clearly heard BlackStar's shouting, it would be surprising if she didn't thought Kid, so to apparently avoid the blue-haired boy, she quickly skipped to the next hall while BlackStar turned away and started walking back first, for some reason. This scene of the girl caused the wheels in Kid's mind to turn. Was she avoiding the loud boy because she knew it was about her or just because he was loud? He had to think it over.

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

This short af and I'm sorry it's not as good as it could have been😔 I didn't know what I should do later on, but I hope you all like it (Black Star being the best wingman ever❓❗) If someone asks for part 2 I might do it and incline more in the romantic theme, I guess, I really don't know sorry

anyway, bye bye xoxo

#anime #manga #anime x reader #soul eater #soul eater x reader #death the kid #death the kid x reader #x reader #manga x reader #dtk x reader #soul eater dtk #Lord death #maka #soul evans #black star #tsubaki #liz thompson #patty thompson

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aphroditedahlias · 6 months ago

Note

hiiii omg i was so excited when you posted another part of the bully eren series!! ive been keeping up with the series ever since 2021 and usually i hate bully fics but the way you write eren is just chefs kiss 🤌

i was even more excited when i saw requests are open!

**TW// i wanted to ask what would happen if eren either accidentally/purposely killed us? I thought of this based off the last line from the recent eren fic. would he be the type to commit suicide or try to move on with his life (id be surprised if this is the case based on the other asks sent in previously lol) reader can be any gender btw

tysm for your wonderful writing! i hope you’re doing well!

Bully eren x G/N reader

What if he purposely k!lled reader?

Tw/ light non con, murdaaa, kn!fe, blood, clearly yandere , angst.

thank you sm whoever you are for keeping up with my posts even though i’m sooo inconstant<33

not proofread 🌝 as always lololol

There’s something so seeet and hypnotic about death. Some people say they see God, or a light. As your eyes daze and your pulse slows, you can hear wren cooing in your ear.

“ it’s okay baby. I know it’s hard but it’s okay. You don’t have to be scared i’m right behind you.”

Blood flows from your wounds, pulsing and flowing freely. There’s not enough time. There’s no way for you to call for help. There’s no way for you to fight, so you just lay back in erens arms and let him soothe you.

You should’ve known. You should’ve tried and fought harder to get away. You thought if you just ignored him he would go away but it just got worse and worse.

You’d come home from school and nothing particularly interesting happened that day but apparently it was the last straw for eren.

You didn’t answer his texts, you took a different route to class to avoid going past him. You even shut and lock the door behind you knowing he was calling your name.

He waited until nightfall to break in through your kitchen window. Mostly prepared, he’d already had a bag filled with ziplocks, and a box cutter. He knew he had the box cutter in his bag but yet he still grabbed a steak knife from your counter, testing it on his own skin to see if it was sharp enough before heading to your room.

He watched you sleep for hours, deliberately taking his time watching your chest rise and fall with each breath. He wasn’t deciding whether or not to let you live. Thjs had gone on long enough and he was sure this was the end, he just wanted to savor the moment.

He dumped out his container of items and went over to your sleeping body, gently tying your wrists and ankles to the bed posts.

He took his time and caressed your soft, warm skin. He stripped you from your clothes and ran his hands up and down your body.

He used duck tape to put over your mouth after kissing your soft lips.

He stripped himself of his own clothing and lied with you, tucking his face into your neck. He waited and waited before continuing. He kissed down your body before reaching your sex.

He licked and spit on you, devouring you knowing it would be the last time.

He moaned against you and sucked harder, exploring your body like never before.

You started to wake up, writhing at the pleasure but quickly that pleasure turned into fear and confusion.

You tried to say his name which only spurred him to continue fucking you with his mouth. The sound of you begging and whining through the tape just got him harder. He began to grind against your mattress trying to receive his own pleasure. He kept licking and sucking, sloppily making a scene out of eating you.

He abruptly stopped and started to kiss his way back up your trembling body. He whispered words you couldn’t understand as he kissed your ear.

“ Don’t be scared “

He said it so quietly and softly that you almost believed him.

But the sudden sharp pain in your right wrist brought numb tears to your eyes. You tried to scream but the fucking tape wouldn’t allow you to. You felt him cut across your left wrist.

He undid your zip ties but your wounded body wouldn’t move, you felt hopeless and paralyzed as your eyes went back and forth between your arms.

He scooped you up and laid you against his chest and turned thought it was all a mistake. Eren wasn’t here to kill you. It was just a big misunderstanding and he would explain everything.

But that only happens in fairytails. Eren was no prince, he was no hero here to save you.

You felt him wrap his arms around you tightly before puncturing you once again, this time in the chest. He let the knife sit there a moment before slowly removing it.

“ I’m not sorry baby. I told you this would happen. If I have to live without you in my life, then you don’t get to live at all.”

you felt tears against your neck as he whispered to you.

He took your duck tape off and let you take shallow breaths. Too weak to scream, you only slumped back against him. Heart slowly coming to stop, you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

No last words from you were said.

Eren grabbed the bloody knife once again and kissed your unmoving lips one last time before slitting his own throat.

Even after death, he wouldn’t let you go.

guys pls make sure you telling someone if you’re being abused or harassed so this doesn’t happen to you lololol. This is just a fic don’t ever let it get to this point.

#tw dark content #cw dark content #tw yandere #tw non con #yandere attack on titan #yandere eren #yandere eren x reader #gender neutral reader #aot angst

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strawberriesinbloom · 11 months ago

Text

That Kind of Day, Huh?

MJ/Peter/Miguel

Summary:

Miguel flinched as his breathing wobbled. He placed a hand over MJ’s hand, which had accidentally wandered a little too close to his side. “Ah, not there,” he muttered. It didn’t take an observant individual to notice the way he had stumbled over his words.

“What? You ticklish, buddy?” Peter asked while crossing his arms.

Miguel scoffed. He lifted his head to give Peter an unimpressed glance his way. Refusing to dignify Peter’s question with a response, he rolled his eyes and laid back down.

Word Count: 2037

A/N:

Happy holidays, @tickly-tufts. I'm your Secret Santa for @squealing-santa. This was a cute idea. I hope you enjoy :)

This is a tickle fic btw

~🍓~

Peter B. Parker had just finished putting his daughter to bed. He snuck one last kiss on her forehead before quietly leaving the nursery. Although he loved spending time with Mayday, she could be a handful at times, and Peter was more than happy to have some quality downtime with his wife.

‘Wife’ he repeated in his head. God, he missed that word.

Peter practically pranced into his bedroom. A pet name was already rolling off the tip of his tongue when he was suddenly shushed. Peter faltered slightly, stopping in his tracks with his hand still on the doorknob.

MJ was sitting up in bed with her back resting against the headboard. Her index finger was raised to her lips. Her cheeks were puffed out, as though preparing to shush him again.

But, that wasn’t the weird part. The weird part was the fact that Miguel O’Hara was lying in MJ’s arms with his head resting on her chest.

Peter cocked his head to the side. “Miguel?”

Usually, he texted before stopping by the Parker’s place.

The dopey smile on Miguel’s face vanished as he flashed Peter an irritated glare. He turned his head, so he was no longer facing him.

“He had a long day,” MJ explained, now that silence was no longer a pretense. Her long nails gently scratched up and down the expanse of Miguel’s back. If Peter listened closely, he swore he could hear the guy purring. “So, I expect you to not get into any of your usual antics, alright?”

Peter let out an amused huff of air. “Antics? Since when have I ever gotten into any ‘antics’?” He grinned as he sauntered over to the bedside next to MJ. “I’ve never done anything of the sort in my entire life.”

MJ rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, okay, whatever you say.” She laughed a little when Peter leaned down to kiss her.

“So, what has gotten this whiny baby in such a mood?” Peter asked once he straightened back up.

Miguel sucked his teeth. “You do realize I can hear you, right?” He scrunched up his shoulder blades a little once MJ started to caress the upper parts of his back.

MJ teasingly tousled Miguel’s hair. “He won’t say,” she told Peter. “I just think he needs some comfort tonight.”

“What? You ticklish, buddy?” Peter asked while crossing his arms.

Miguel scoffed. He lifted his head to give Peter an unimpressed glance his way. Refusing to dignify Peter’s question with a response, he rolled his eyes and laid back down.

“Aw, come on, Miguel. You aren’t even going to answer me?” Peter began poking and prodding at Miguel’s side. He delighted in the way Miguel jumped at each jab.

“Peter…” MJ said.

Peter grinned. “I’m just trying to help him feel better. They don’t say that laughter is the best medicine for nothing.” He turned his attention toward Miguel. “So, come on, let’s hear that laugh of yours.”

Without warning, Peter squeezed Miguel’s waist, causing Miguel to curl up in on himself. “Stop that!” he growled. Miguel’s voice was low and gruff, but his tough persona was softened by how hard he was trying to avoid Peter’s gaze.

The corners of Miguel’s lips began to perk up when Peter’s fingers started digging into his hips. He grabbed his wrist in an attempt to pry him off of him, but, interestingly enough, Miguel’s grip was loose and half-hearted.

Miguel gasped, as his eyes widened in fear. “M-MJ…!” he choked out. He began to thrash around, and Peter looked up to see MJ drilling her fingers inside Miguel’s armpits.

“What? I can’t have you having all of the fun,” she said when she noticed Peter’s expression. MJ continued her assault on Miguel’s sensitive skin. He tried to push himself up and presumably get off of her, but MJ was quicker than him. She hooked her legs over his back, trapping him in place.

Miguel barely managed to choke out MJ’s name again before using both hands to clamp his mouth shut. Peter clawed at Miguel’s stomach, which was driving him up the wall. His cheeks flushed, as Peter focused his attention on a particular spot that made Miguel writhe in place.

“Wow, you sure are stubborn, Miguel,” Peter said, enjoying the glare he was shooting him. “Not even a giggle?”

MJ’s fingers traveled down Miguel’s body and settled against his ribs, where she used her long nails to her full advantage and scratched at such a sensitive spot. As though to answer Peter’s question, Miguel tossed his head back and shrieked. He burst into loud laughter that almost made Peter flinch.

“AHAHA! Stahap! Stahahahap it! Both ohof you! EheEHEhehe…! Th—this isn’t funny!” Miguel’s eyes were squeezed shut as a wide smile overtook half of his face.

Peter wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the guy smile before, much less laugh, so this was a welcome sight. Miguel’s laughter wasn’t what he was expecting to come from a guy like him, either. It was loud, boisterous, and almost a little frantic. Miguel’s smile was a little lopsided from him desperately trying to stop himself from laughing.

“You have a nice laugh, Miguel,” MJ said, “It’s a shame we don’t get to hear it more often.” She shoved her fingers against his neck. He started to giggle and scrunch his shoulders up before she even had the chance to tickle him there.

Miguel giggling? Now, that was funny. It was, dare he say it, cute to see the way MJ could elicit such high-pitched noises from Miguel. At some point, Miguel squeaked. He stilled himself for a moment before burying his face in the crook of her elbow out of embarrassment. MJ only laughed, as she kept tickling him.

“This ihihisn’t fair! Hehehe…hehehaHAHAHA!” His laughter grew an octave or two when Peter started to spider his fingers against Miguel’s ribs. This was a sensitive area for him, which meant that this little weakness had to be exploited as much as possible. Miguel growled again, as he flailed about until he was on his side. “Peheheter! Peheheheter, I’ll—I’m going to kihihihill you! Ahahaha!” The threatening nature of his threats was drowned out by the desperation in his voice.

“I’d like to see you—oh, hey, wait, are those fangs?” Peter’s previous train of thought was left forgotten once he noticed a pair of rather sharp incisors sticking out of his mouth.

Miguel pressed his lips together in another attempt to stop himself from laughing. MJ tickled him underneath his chin, causing him to erupt in soft giggles once again. “Yeah, they are fangs,” MJ said, “That’s cute!”

“Very cute,” Peter agreed right before he vibrated his fingers against Miguel’s ribs.

“Grr…ahahaha! I’m warning you, Peheheter!” He jutted his leg up, and it took Peter a moment to realize that Miguel was trying to kick him away. Peter stepped to the side and grabbed both of Miguel’s legs. Miguel gasped when Peter swung his leg over and sat on Miguel’s knees. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“This,” Peter answered before squeezing and pinching Miguel’s thighs. Miguel screamed. He screamed before melting into a loud cackle of a laugh. “Whoa! Calm down!” Peter shouted after he was almost bucked off, but he held his ground. He might have found Miguel’s most ticklish spot, and he wasn’t going to go down that easily.

Peter kept skittering his fingers along Miguel’s thighs and occasionally drilled his thumbs into his hips just to keep him on his toes. Miguel shrieked every time he did that. MJ tickled his neck, sometimes choosing to flick the back of his ears, which made Miguel tilt his head side to side repeatedly in a futile way to get away from the sensation.

“Hahaha! This is toohoohoo much! Stahahap this instahAHAha—” Miguel swore when MJ decided to jab her fingers inside of Miguel’s armpits again.

Just as Peter was about to tickle Miguel’s sides, Miguel grabbed both of Peter’s hands. Miguel glowered at Peter, who was trying to give up the biggest, most innocent doe eyes he could muster. Miguel paused for a beat before unceremoniously throwing Peter across the room.

“Peter!” MJ shouted, a hint of amusement at the back of her voice. She unhooked her legs from Miguel and tried to stifle a giggle. “Are you okay?”

Peter grunted when he landed on the floor, but he was quick to get up and dust himself off. “Never better,” he said, pretending to flex his arms. Now freed, Miguel got up and slowly crawled over to the other side of the bed. When Peter noticed this, he smirked. “Oh no, you don’t!” He ran over and tackled Miguel to the bed.

Miguel snarled but didn’t try to break free from Peter’s grip. “What’s wrong with you?” He looked at MJ, who was trying her hardest to hide her smile. She was failing quite badly. “Both of you! What’s wrong with both of you?” He was breathless, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Aww, don’t be like that Miguel. We were only trying to cheer you up.” Peter clasped his hands onto Miguel’s sides. Miguel gave him a wary look but didn’t say anything. “Besides, don’t think MJ and I didn’t notice how you didn’t even try to stop us in any capacity.”

“Except for when he tossed you off the bed,” MJ chimed in.

“Yes, except for when you tossed me off of the bed,” Peter responded, a little miffed at his cool moment being dampened. “But, other than that, you didn’t do anything. I mean, you’re a Spider-Man! You have more than enough ways to stop us if you wanted to.” Peter slowly massaged Miguel’s sides, earning some soft and awkward laughter from him. “That’s the key phrase, isn’t it? If you wanted to.”

MJ shuffled over so that she was sitting right next to them. “Miguel,” she said, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Do you like being tickled?” Her tone wasn’t particularly accusatory. It was kind of sweet, as though she was asking how Miguel’s day was.

“Mhmhmm…I—I don’t ehehe…I don’t…mmph!” Miguel laid his hands on top of Peter’s hands once they started to wander too far up his torso. Peter could tell that Miguel was searching for some sort of excuse or way to get out of this predicament. “I, uh, didn’t wahahant to hurt MJ.”

“You gotta give yourself more credit than that. You have great control over your abilities. There’s no way you’d accidentally hurt anyone,” Peter said.

When he couldn’t think of anything else, Miguel sighed and accepted defeat. “Okahahay, maybe—maybe just a little…” He mumbled that last part but Peter could hear him loud and clear.

“Oh, that’s adorable,” MJ said, leaning in to kiss Miguel on the cheek, “Are you feeling better now?”

Miguel pried Peter’s hands off of him. He stared at the bed, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. “Yeah, I guess,” he said quietly, “More or less.”

“I knew it would!” Peter said. He grabbed Miguel’s face and gave him a messy kiss on the cheek. He stopped when Miguel’s groan suddenly turned into quiet giggles.

“Your stubble,” Miguel explained, rubbing his cheek. “It tickles.”

“Miguel,” Peter said in awe, “How ticklish are you, buddy?” Peter expected Miguel to make another snarky comment. He did not expect to be completely flipped over on his back. “M—Miguel?” he repeated, as his threatening figure loomed over him.

“Not as ticklish as you,” Miguel simply responded before digging his fingers into Peter’s armpits.

“Wahahahait! Hahaha! Let’s talk this out!” Peter shook his head back and forth. He lifted his hand to try to push Miguel out of the way, only to immediately clamp his arm down when Miguel’s tickling increased tenfold. “Hahaha…AH! MJ!” Peter screeched when he felt something skitter along the undersides of his feet. This was going to be a long night.

#Across the Spiderverse tickling #Tickle Fic #squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23

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futbol16 · 2 years ago

Text

Those Three Letters • Alexia Putellas

Not sure how good this turned out to be, but I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Request: "In the trailer of Alexias documentary they say that Alexia turned off her phone after the injury. Can you write a story about reader and Alexia thats set during that time. Eventually reader is able to get a hold of Alexia maybe showing up to her appartement. Taking care of Alexia, making sure that she and Nala are okay, updating Alexias family and taking her to her apointments. Reader being her shoulder to cry on and pick Alexia up get a bit of faith back into her and being able to convince Alexia that she can be a great capitana from the sidelines also."

Part 2 You Can

Word count: 1,6k

Finishing up the late training session, you slipped on your sneakers and a hoodie and waved bye to the girls in the locker room.

As you walk down the hallway you fish your phone out from your right pocket, looking up at the last second before almost colliding with a body. You smile up at your captain.

“Gonna go talk to your girl?” Leah smiles down at you sweetly.

“Yeah, yeah. Schedules have been busy so I’m hoping to catch her.” you lightly blush at the thought of your girlfriend.

“Well good luck with that Y/N/N!”

“Thank you, goodnight Leah!” you wave her goodbye, your thumb already searching through your contacts before pressing on one.

You hold the phone to your ear as you walk to your room with a soft smile, but frown when no one picks up. You knew Alexia was off from training as well by now and the two of you had planned on talking tonight.

You call again, and again, and when she doesn’t pick up again, and again, you start to get worried. Tossing your phone onto your bed you decide to get ready for the evening instead, hoping that she’d at least message you to tell you what was up.

Your phone goes off suddenly, the ringtone breaking you out of your staring contest with yourself in the mirror. Your toothbrush is hanging out of your mouth as you race for your phone, answering it with a confused face when you realize it’s Mapi calling.

“Hey Mapi, what’s up?”

“Y/N, hola, hey, hi so something happened and Ale isn’t okay and I don’t know what to do and I need your help!” she rushes out and you go to calm her down before your ears perk up.

“Ale’s in trouble?” you ask almost breathlessly.

The most intense part of the Euro’s was barely in a week, everyone was excited for it and you knew Alexia had been waiting for this. To hear that something might not allow her to play…you feared the worst.

“What is it, María, what happened?”

“ACL” God, those three letters that you feared so much, one of the most dreaded injuries, especially in women’s football. That never meant anything good, this was serious.

“Y/N, I need you to come down here. I don’t know what’s going on with her, she hasn’t been answering any of us in the past two days. We were only told now what happened to her.”

That made sense, you had the first Match of the Euro’s yesterday and although the two of you would always wish each other good luck, you didn’t dwell on the absence of a message from her for too long. You knew the both of you were very busy people and she’d try to catch up later.

But now as you stand in the middle of the room, eyes wide, breath still and your toothpaste almost dripping down your chin you realize just how stupid that excuse sounded.

Ending the call with Mapi, you get yourself to look presentable before racing down to Sarina’s office.

Once you reach the door, you hastily knock on the wood until you’re let in.

“Hey coach, sorry, I really need to talk to you.” you tell her all that you knew and she eventually agrees to let you go, though with a warning that you wouldn’t play the full 90 minutes against Norway since you’d be missing a few training days.

By the time you get to the airport it’s already 8pm, you’d land in Barcelona at around midnight.

You keep Mapi updated and although you had told her you could take a taxi, she insisted on picking up her best friend from the airport.

When Mapi’s car rolls up in front of Alexia’s apartment it is well into the night, but knowing the Barcelona captain she was still going to be up no matter how tired she was after the day of her surgery.

You hated that you hadn’t been there for her when she had to go through such a thing, but you knew she needed you now more than ever and you were going to be there no matter what, even if it meant maybe missing the match against Norway.

You let yourself into her apartment, it’s dark but you can make out the silhouette of Nala before she jumps into your arms. You give her a little love before getting her something to eat, you weren’t sure how well Alexia had been taking care of herself and her dog right now.

As you walk further into the home you let your backpack - the only thing you had brought onto the plane with you - slide down your shoulder and land next to the wall of the living room.

That’s when you spot her, the warm color of the lamp lighting up the side of her face as she’s slumped over on the couch, her leg propped up. You note the deep frown she has, the creases in her forehead and the fact that she hadn’t noticed someone entering her apartment. It all worried you even more.

You move in front of her and squat down to be on her level before you place a careful hand to the side of her face. Cupping her cheek you turn her head towards you and wait for her eyes to focus on you, the deep glare slowly vanishing as she stares into your eyes.

“Alexia, bebé.” you whisper out as your thumb slowly strokes over her cheek bone. That’s all it takes for her as she breaks, a painful sob leaving her lips. You pull her into you, mindful of her leg and hold her close as she cries into your neck.

You fight back your own tears, ultimately failing, and repeatedly kiss her shoulder as you mutter words of comfort into her ear. She settles eventually and pulls back from you, though she doesn’t go far, desperate to still be close to you.

“I wanted to play so bad.”

“I know, I know, love. “ you say as you wipe away the few tears rolling down her cheek. “It won’t be long Ale, you’re strong, you know this. And I’ll be here, yeah? We’ll do it together.” you tell her honestly, kissing her cheek when she gives you a tiny smile.

“Gracias, mi amor. Gracias, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” she pulls you in again and you hug her back tightly. You help her get ready for the night, gently washing the day off her body and holding her close when she breaks down again.

You kiss her injured knee gently and tuck her into bed. It’s the early hours of the morning when you manage to get her to sleep and you slowly slip out from under the covers. You watch as she cuddles into your pillow and you move her hair out of her face before making your way out the bedroom door.

Eli is the first person you call, Alexia’s mom, and she immediately picks up the phone despite the sun barely being up. You fill her in on the news and promise her to take care of her daughter as you ask her to come around for the next day.

Alexia would need her family close to her, especially once you’d have to go back to England for the Euro’s.

You take her to her appointments during the next few days and help out her family who have come around Alexia’s place everyday. It’s four days later that you pack your bag again, knowing you’d have to get on the earliest flight possible.

You’re about to walk to Alexia’s room when her sister pulls you aside and into a hug. You hug back the younger brunette fiercely, knowing that her sister’s injury and mood had been hard on her emotionally as well.

“She’s gonna need you more than us, you know.” she whispers to you.

“What?” you pull back from the hug, confused as to what she meant.

“My sister, she’s going to need you more than anyone Y/N.” you’re about to shake your head at her words but she interrupts you. “You’re her person, she’ll want you by her side, more than me or Mama.”

“I’ll do my best to be there for her.” you nod at Alba.

“You already have.” she answers you with a smile before kissing your cheek and nudging you towards her sister’s bedroom.

Walking through the doorway Alexia is sitting on the edge of her bed, looking up at you with big eyes. You cup her cheeks, her arms circling around your waist as she rests her chin on your stomach.

“I have to go amor.” you tell her quietly, hating that you had to leave her when she was hurt, but you knew you had to get back to England if you wanted to play in the tournament.

“Sí, mi amor. I know.” she lets out a sigh. Her arms slowly reach up and she tugs you down to her level, pulling you into a kiss.

You kiss her back softly, your thumb stroking her jaw as she holds you impossibly close.

“I’ll be back, love, and you’ll be back on that football pitch sooner than you think.” You tell her, confident in her rehab and her strength.

"And until then you’ll be the best Capitana for the team, even if it’s from the stands.” She nods at you, giving you a gentle smile and kissing you one last time before you’d have to leave for the airport.

You knew this would be a hard and long journey for her, but Alexia also knew that with you by her side she could do this.

You and her, together.

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #futbol16

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kay-wren · 5 months ago

Text

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 1

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JJ, Kiara, John B, Pope, and Sarah were all sitting at the Chateau trying to figure out a plan to get their gold back from Rafe Cameron. With Rafe's dad, Rose, and Wheezy presumed dead on the yacht that killed them all, the 22 year old is the sole proprietor of what Ward stole from the Pogues. Sarah still couldnt figure out why Ward decided to die on the Druthers with Rose and Wheezy in tandem, it seemed very selfish if you were to ask her. But even more so than that... why did Ward not go down with his whole family? Did he have some master plan in keeping Rafe and Sarah alive? Or was he doing it just despite them? Those thoughts tormented Sarah ever since the incident. She had to remove herself from those ideas though in order to help the pogues. Still, she sat at the Chateau inevitably out of it.

"We've gotta get the gold back man, that's ours!" JJ exclaimed with disgust and anger in his voice as he slammed his fist on the table and clung to his favorite ball cap.

"Yeah, I know man, that's what we're trying to figure out." John B sassed, clearly already over the day that they were having.

"I don't know what else there is to do. I mean Rafe's taking the gold to the Bahamas None of us can get on that plane, and none of us can get there otherwise." Pope stated.

"Kie, maybe your parents could spot us the cash for some plane tickets." JJ said frantically looking over at Kiara.

"Um no, they made it very clear that they are done with our antics, they don't even know that I'm here right now!" She retorted back with a hint of irritation in her voice as she narrowed her eyebrows towards JJ.

JJ put his hands on his head and started breathing heavily as he paced around the Chateau trying to find a solution.

"Face it man, the gold is gone. There's literally no way we can get to it." Pope exclaimed matter-of-factly, trying to be the only logical thinking person in the group at the moment.

"NO, there has to be a way! I'm not just going to let him take what's ours. Alright? That's happened too many times in my life man and I'll be damned if I let it happen again!" JJ said with even more anger in his voice.

"We all know there's only one person in this world that can control Rafe Cameron..." Sarah trailed off, not even making eye contact with any of the pogues. Sarah held a distant stare into nothing and a gaping hole in her mouth.

They all looked up and glanced around the room with looks of confusion, trying to see who would know the answer to Sarah's riddle. Sarah eventually looked at JJ. Once everyone realized who she was she was referring to, they all looked at JJ as well, almost with a look of pity.

JJ slowed his pacing, took his hands off his head, and looked back at the pogues and started shaking his head slowly.

"No, no way man. She made it very clear that she was gone, okay? She doesn't want to be wrapped up in all this, and I'm not going to be the one to bring her back into it. No way!" JJ stated more calmly but still with conviction as he held one hand to his chest, feeling like it might be tightening from the stress of the very idea.

There was a pause, as if nobody knew what to say next. They all knew where JJ was coming from, but this was the only way to get back into the game. Sarah finally spoke up.

"Don't tell her why. Just tell her you need her."

"I'm not going to lie to her." JJ said as his voice cracked with small tears in his eyes, tears of anger or sadness no one could really tell.

"JJ, she'll do it for you." John B said with a sympathetic look in his eye as he wrapped an arm around JJ's shoulder to console him.

JJ and John B shared a look between the two of them, as if an argument was going on simply in their eyes. JJ's look was calloused. John B's look was hopeful.

"F-fine." JJ said as he sucked in a breath to fight back more tears. "But if she gets hurt in any way, we're done." he said as he looked down to the ground playing with his fingernails.

They all nodded seriously as if to make it clear that they understand the assignment.

"I don't even know where she lives man, all she gave me was her number years ago." JJ laughed looking up at John B.

"Well then looks like we're going to see if that number still works." John B smiled.

#drew starkey #jj maybank #obx #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rudy pankow #fanfic #outer banks imagine #Youtube

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marie-swriting · 2 years ago

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First-Second Date - Kate Bishop

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : You're at a Café waiting for Kate to show up to your first date.

Warnings : being stood up, misunderstanding, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 1.9k

French version

Prompt : "B accidentally writes the wrong day down for their date, which inevitably causes them to unintentionally stand A up" 5th prompt from this prompt list made by @novelbear

Seated at a table in the Café near your University, you’re waiting for Kate. You met her at the beginning of your University year and got along instantly. Your feelings have quickly become romantic so after months of hesitation, you finally decided to ask her out on a date for the next Saturday. You were afraid she’d refuse at first in case she would only think of you as a friend, that's why you asked her by text. Kate had taken a few minutes to answer, too stunned to know you were attracted to her. When you received her positive response, you were filled with an intense joy. Now, it’s an intense anxiety that’s controlling your body. You arrived a bit earlier, too excited to hang out with Kate. Before leaving your place, you had sent her a message.

Text from you to Kate, 2:40 P.M. :

Are we still on for this afternoon ? 🥰

You still haven’t gotten a reply, but you reassure yourself by thinking she must be getting ready so she hasn’t had the time to check her phone yet. You just hope she’s going to text back as soon as she’s on her way, like this you’ll finally be able to relax. However, when ten minutes have passed since the time you had planned for your date, your stress gets a bit bigger. You wait five more minutes before taking your phone and texting her.

Text from you to Kate, 3:15 P.M. :

Hey, just wanted to know if you were on your way, we were supposed to meet at 3 🙂

You look at your phone for a few minutes but no answer is coming. You end up locking it up and ordering a refreshing drink, hoping it’ll help you to calm your nerves. Yet, when Kate is thirty minutes late, your worry is stronger. You start overthinking. You try to come up with every reason as to why she’d be late : maybe she hasn’t seen the time, maybe something more or less serious has happened or maybe she won’t come because she hadn’t dared to refuse your date. You strongly hope it’s not the latter. No, it can’t be the last option. You have been close with Kate since the day you met, you consider her as one of your best friends, she can’t not come on your date. Kate isn’t like that. Or is she ? You try to chase away those negative thoughts from your mind and with reluctance, you call her. You know you risk being categorised as the annoying girl but your worry is too strong to help you chill. Without any big surprise, Kate doesn’t answer. When the beep ending her voice message rings, you clear your throat.

“Hey, Kate, it’s me, Y/N. Huh, it’s almost 3:40 and you’re still not here and, huh, I got no response to my texts either,” you start, playing with the napkin from your table, “I just wanted to check if everything was okay. I’m still gonna wait for a bit, in case you’re simply late. But, huh, tell me if you want to reschedule. Call me back when you get this message,” you continue before waiting a few seconds, “See you.”

You hang up and put your phone down on the table. You finish your drink in one gulp before checking an umpteenth time at the Café’s entrance. In spite of yourself, every five minutes you look at your phone. You even turned it off and on, thinking maybe your phone wasn’t working correctly. It wasn’t the reason. Kate hasn’t just replied to you. Slowly, your anxiety turns into anger. It had taken you months to muster up your courage and ask her out, you were waiting for that moment impatiently. Now, you think you shouldn’t have asked her. Not only are you getting humiliated in public for almost an hour now but you’ve also lost a precious friendship. Fed up, you pay for your drink and leave the place without wasting any second. On the way, you call Kate one last time, in case she’d feel remorse and want to meet you. When her voicemail begins, you can’t help but sigh in frustration.

“Kate, it’s me, the girl you had a date with today.” you state, coldly, “I waited for you a whole hour and clearly you’re not about to show up so I left. You know, if you really didn’t want to come, you could just have told me ‘no’ instead of ignoring me and standing me up.” you finish, before hanging up mad.

You trot to your University bedroom, fists clenched. You can’t believe Kate did that to you. You would have never thought she’d be the kind of person to be disrespectful. It seems like you don’t know her as much as you thought.

During the whole night, you try to cool down by taking a shower, watching a TV-show and even spamming your best friend with messages to externalise all your emotions. What angers you the most is Kate’s silence. Usually, she replies to you in a few minutes, except when she has her training. However, she never does it after ten P.M., she could have answered you a long time ago. With difficulties, you finally fall asleep, not without checking your phone one last time.

When Monday comes, you go to class with one goal in mind : avoiding Kate as much as possible. After the silent treatment she’s been giving you, you ended up thinking she deleted your number and even blocked it. You thought your goal would be easy to achieve because Kate would still be ignoring you but she has actually tried to talk to you several times. Still mad at Kate, you go in the opposite direction as soon as you see her, even if it extends your way.

After two days of avoiding her like the plague, a small part of you wants to confront her to know the reason for her absence. This part started being too loud when your anger vanished away to leave the room for your inability to understand the situation. Besides, you’ve noticed Kate still tries to come to you, despite your silence. If she’s so eager to talk to you, maybe she had a good reason ? If so, why hasn't she still replied to your texts ?

You keep wondering why Kate is acting that way, not paying attention to what’s surrounding you while you’re walking to your bedroom. Suddenly, an obstacle is in front of you. Snapping out of your thoughts, you find Kate with an awkward smile on her face.

“Hey,” she starts but you stay silent, “is it me or have you been ignoring me since this Monday ? Are you mad ?”

“No, come on, why would I even be mad ?” you ask, ironically.

“Given the tone of your voice, I’m pretty sure you’re mad. What happened ? Did I do something I wasn’t supposed to ?” she questions, frowning.

You’re about to give her a piece of your mind when her telephone ringing cuts you off. You sigh in disbelief. Kate rapidly takes out her phone and hangs up without looking at the caller ID. Watching her do that, you wonder if it’s what she did last Saturday.

“Sorry.” Kate says, putting her phone away.

“Oh, so it does work !” you state with a fake surprised tone.

“What ?”

“Oh, nothing. For a moment I thought your phone wasn’t working anymore.”

“Yeah, about that,” she starts, confused, “I wanted to tell you about it. Could you give me your phone number again ? I lost it.”

“Lost it or deleted it ?”

“Ok, I’ve definitely missed some information here.”

“Well, when you don’t check your phone, that’s what usually happens.”

“I had some problems with my phone,” Kate explains, making your eyes roll. “It fell down while I was crosswalking and a car drove over it just after. I had to change it and buy a new SIM Card.”

“So that’s why you couldn’t come Saturday ?” you continue, coldly.

“Saturday ?”

“Don’t play stupid ! Our date, Kate. We were supposed to meet on Saturday and I waited for you for a whole hour, like an idiot.”

“What ?”, she exclaims before thinking for a second, “but we were supposed to meet next Saturday so the one that’s coming ! I even wrote it down on Google Agenda,” Kate adds before showing you her phone, “look !”

“No, we were supposed to see each other last Saturday but you would have known it if you had checked your phone.”

“Y/N, I promise you I’m not lying when I tell you I broke my phone.”

Noticing Kate keeps insisting, you start doubting. Maybe her story was true and everything was a big misinterpretation. Maybe she didn’t stand you up intentionally.

“It happened last Friday that’s why I couldn’t get your text.”, she specifies, “I swear it to you ! I would have never stood you up. I’m excited about our date. I mean, I was excited, I guess.” Kate corrects herself, thinking about it for a second, “I genuinely believed it was this Saturday, the one that’s coming and I’ve been trying to talk to you the past few days to get your number’s back as I lost it. Everything is a misunderstanding ! Tell me when you’re available, we’ll do our date as soon as possible and promise, this time I’ll write it down correctly and I will be there.”

“So you’re telling the truth ?” you checked again, sceptical.

“I’d be willing to call my mom at this very minute to prove it to you, even if she has an important meeting.”

You take a few seconds to think about the new information. In the end, for you, her story seems closer to the Kate you know rather than the one who didn’t show up for your date. After all, even if Kate is precise when she’s holding a bow and arrows, the rest of the time, she’s quite clumsy. In addition to Kate’s voice, you could tell she was being genuine.

“I believe you.” you end up saying.

“Sorry for not showing up, no matter if it was accidental or not.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I just like you a lot and I was so excited about our date and stressed, too. I was afraid my feelings were unrequited and you only said ‘yes’ because you had pity for me so when I wasn’t seeing you coming, I thought you were ignoring me, deliberately. I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“No, I promise you it’s not that, Y/N”, Kate refutes putting her hand on your forearm. “I meant it when I accepted your date, I care about you. I feel bad knowing you thought I had bad intentions when I actually was waiting for that moment since the day we met.”

“It’s not your fault. I know it now. I should have talked to you Monday instead of ignoring you.” you repeat, feeling guilty for jumping into conclusions.

“You had every right to be mad. You didn’t know what happened.” she reassures you. “So, we’re still on for that first-second date ? You still want us to go to one ?”

“If you promise to not do something similar a second time then yes”, you laugh.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”, Kate answers chuckling, “What if we didn’t wait ?”, she suddenly asks, “I mean, we don’t have any more classes, we’re together, we might as well go to that Café now, don’t you think ?”

“I’d love to.” you smile.

Kate’s lips take the shape of an idiotic smile when she feels your hand in hers. She tightens her grips while you’re guiding her to the Café. You’re both full of joy, you’re finally able to go on your first-second date.

Marvel Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

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