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reiding-writing · 11 months ago

Note

since you are a person of angst, i was thinking about spencer x reader where in the heat of an argument, spencer says he will only forgive her when she dies.

so in one of the cases the reader is shot by spencer and sighs "now you can finally forgive me"

happy or sad ending, whatever you want

muah 💘

forgiven — s.reid

Summary:

You lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR IAN DOYLE ARC, harsh arguments, death wishes, gun mentions, major character injury, details of gun related injury, happy ending

spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 3.7k || masterlist!!

a/n: left the ending up to majority vote and majority vote said happy ending, you guys are so boring /j

happy ending or not this is still nice and jam packed with angst for all my angst enjoyers <3

Emily Prentiss had been buried for seven months.

So how on earth was she stood five feet away from Spencer with a half guilty expression on her face like she’d put salt in his coffee rather than the fact that she’d been in Paris, fully alive and well whilst he mourned her ‘death’ for months.

But he couldn’t be mad at her. Of course he couldn’t.

Instead his gaze turned towards the way Hotch, JJ, and you were stood at the head of the table, completely unfazed whilst the rest of the team stood in shock at the fact that the friend that they’d buried was still alive.

He couldn’t help that small feeling of loathing mixing with the shock when Emily pulled him into a hug, his arms loosely rested around her back as his eyes narrowed slightly in your direction.

He’d let you see him at his absolute worst, an emotional, crying, pathetic mess of a person who was desperately mourning over the loss of one of his closest friends.

And you’d let him. Whilst knowing that Emily was still alive.

His emotional state had gotten so bad over the last few months that you’d even temporarily moved him in with you to make sure he wasn’t endangering himself.

He’d spiralled into a state where he couldn’t be trusted to live on his own. And you’d let him.

He didn’t speak to you during your drive home that night, and you knew why.

You knew he was going to be angry at you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.

What you didn’t expect, was for him to immediately start unrooting himself from your apartment; Clearing out drawers and stuffing his clothes in the suitcase hidden in one of the cupboards.

“Spencer what are you doing-” You barely manage to step out of the way before Spencer walked right into you with an armful of books in his hands as he pulled them from the bookshelf in your living room.

He stacks them neatly in the corner of the open case laid on top of his bed as you stand in the doorway of your guest room turned Spencer’s bedroom, clear concern written all over your face.

“I’m going home.” Spencer’s reply is blunt, flat, with the tiniest amount of hurt lacing his tone if you were to listen closely enough.

“Spence-” You block his exit from the room with your body as he attempts to make a second trip to clear your shelves of his books. “Can we just take a second to talk about this?”

“About what? The fact that you lied to me for seven months?” He takes a step back from you as you block the doorway, looking you directly in the eyes to make sure that you could read every semblance of hurt, loathing, and betrayal that swam in his irises.

“The fact that I trusted you to the point where I let you see me at my lowest and you knew everything I was grieving over was a lie?” Spencer had given up trying to leave the room, clearing out anything left in the bedroom instead and zipping the suitcase shut.

“The fact that you let me spiral to the point where I was considering relapsing and couldn’t be trusted to live on my own?”

“Spencer-”

“I confided in you. I told you everything. All those nights I spent sobbing in your arms talking about how I just wanted the pain to stop and you left me in the dark.” He was borderline shouting at you by now, his eyes glassed over with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks and a lump in his throat that rended his composure shattered.

“I wish I could’ve told you Spencer but I couldn’t-”

“You couldn’t?” Spencer cuts you off before you have the time to try and explain yourself. “Or you wouldn’t?”

“I couldn’t- Spence I wanted to tell you I really did but Emily’s life was in danger-” You try to explain yourself whilst he’s giving you the time to do so, words falling out of your mouth as fast as your brain will let them form. “I couldn’t say anything without risking breaking her cover and sending her right back into Doyle’s grasp..”

“What about my life?” Spencer’s voice cracked slightly as he looked at you, a light flush covering his face from his frustration. “I spent ten weeks under 24/7 supervision because my mental state was so bad-”

“You know me. You know I wouldn’t have said anything. And you let me ruin my own mental state anyway.” The end of his negation of your explanation is marked by the suitcases wheels hitting the wooden flooring.

“Look i’m sorry okay? I didn’t-”

“What? didn’t mean to let it go so far? Didn’t mean to let me consider relapsing and washing any progress i’d made over the last four years down the drain?” He pushes past you with considerable force to make his way towards the front door of your apartment with his suitcase in hand. “Well it’s too late for that isn’t it?”

“Spencer wait-” You grasp at his wrist in a moment of desperation, silently begging for him not to leave. “I’m sorry,”

“I’m so, so sorry and you have every right to be angry at me and I know that keeping it from you was wrong-” Your desperation shows through your voice, through the stray tear that rolls down your left cheek and pools under your chin. “Just- let’s talk about this, please,”

“We just did.” Spencer’s voice is much harsher than you’re used to, although he removes your hand from his wrist with a whisper of his usual gentle nature that you wish would take over the rest of his personality as he pulls your door open to leave.

“I was just trying to protect her-” Your voice hitches at the end of your sentence, stray tears turning into a steady flow that dapples your white shirt in damp circles. “..please forgive me…”

Your voice is hardly a whisper by the time you’re finished, although Spencer’s expression does not match the softness in your tone.

Nor does his response.

“I’ll forgive you when you’re six feet under like she was.”

“Spencer-”

You barely have time to be shocked by his words before the front door of your apartment is closed harshly in your face, Spencer’s presence replaced by the ghost of his cologne and a sharp coldness that runs its way up your spine.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It’d been three weeks.

And aside from asking Morgan to keep an eye on him you hadn’t so much as mentioned Spencer once.

It was a little difficult considering his desk was directly opposite yours, but a mix of wanting to respect his personal space and still being hurt by his comment allows you to keep to yourself no matter how close he was.

You’re thankful that the team hasn’t said anything, but you’re sure they’ll only respect your privacy until it interferes with the case you’re working on.

Emily had tried to talk Spencer down from his underlying anger to no avail during the plane ride, and despite the countless times that Hotch had taken full responsibility for keeping Emily’s living status a secret, it didn’t stop Spencer from sending you half-glares across the station or refuting any suggestion you gave with an overcomplicated explanation of why you were wrong.

By the fourth day you were on the verge of snapping at him, the Texas heat melding with his snark and making you want to tear all of your skin from your face.

You definitely weren’t in the right mental state to enter an active shooter situation, but as you followed Morgan into the building with your 9mm planted firmly between your hands, all you could think about is the conversation you were going to force Spencer into having with you once all of this was over.

You were so tired of being in this stalemate with him, you just wanted your Spencer back.

The one who would trap you on your couch so he could explain the Doctor Who lore in explicit detail with that bright starry look in his eyes the longer you let him ramble.

It was just radio silence. And you couldn’t bare it anymore.

Your mind was clouded by your own thoughts as you swept the building, and you suppose you only have yourself to blame for not hearing the unfamiliar footsteps behind you until it’s too late.

You turn on your heels towards the noise, expecting it to be Morgan or even Spencer, finished with sweeping the floor and ready to move on.

Instead you’re met by a sharp bang that rings through your ears and a pain in your throat that makes your breath catch and your legs fail underneath you.

Your left hand comes straight to your throat, immediately coated in the dark red liquid escaping from the new hole created in your body, and you manage to fire a shot in the direction of your assailant as he runs, although whether you actually hit him or not you’re not sure.

It takes less than ten seconds for your team members to arrive at your side, and you desperately point in the direction that the UnSub had ran off in as you try and refrain from coughing up blood and in turn flooding your lungs.

Morgan and Emily share a look before running off in your pointed direction. Spencer however, ignores your arm completely and rushes to kneel at your side, dropping his gun on the floor in the process and frantically holding the radio button on his watch to yell out his need for medical services.

“You’re going to be fine- Everything’s going to be fine-” You can practically feel the panic emanating from his body, his hands trembling as he tugged his bullet proof vest from his chest to tear at the hem of his shirt and use it to block the bullet hole in your throat as your hand compression weakened with your blood loss.

You can tell he was trying to reassure you, but it didn’t sound all that convincing, even to himself.

His right hand added a copious amount of pressure to the front of your throat as he aided you into the recovery position, checking the nape of your neck for an exit wound. Nothing.

A soft “two minutes” echoes back through the radio speaker in his watch and though he tries to mutter it under his breath to not freak you out any further, you can hear his uncertain “that’s too long,” even through the tinnitus plaguing your ears.

You cough up the clotted chunks of oxidised blood stuck in your oesophagus onto the floor beneath you, and Spencer makes an effort to protect your head from the floor by elevating it on his thigh.

“You’re going to be fine-” Spencer sounds more panicked than you as his eyes blink with tears, unable to be wiped as they fall down his cheeks from the red staining against his fingers and the ever present pressure he’s adding to your injury.

“Does this mean you’re going to forgive me now?” You choke out the words alongside what could barely be considered a laugh as it leaves you hacking up more blood through your mouth, your attempt at lightening the mood falling on deaf ears as it sends Spencer into a fit of tears.

“I’m so sorry-” Spencer’s tears run hot against his cheeks, pooling at his chin and falling onto the ripped fabric of his shirt he was using to try and stop your throat from bleeding. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you and barging out and just being awful to you I’m sorry-”

The distinct sounds of sirens sound over Spencer’s profuse apology and you can see the relief flood his face as he hears them. “You hear that? You’re gonna be okay, they’re gonna get you to a hospital and you’re gonna be fine,”

He nodded determinedly at you, more like he’s trying to convince himself than convince you.

He neglected to tell you about the fact that gunshot wounds to the neck held a 78% mortality rate, or how when they obstruct major airways that number jumps to 92%.

It was fine. You would be fine.

He can hear the pounding footsteps of the medical team as they breach the building, yelling out in their direction with as much composure as he can muster.

He helped the medical team carefully position you on a stretcher so they could rush you into the ambulance, and he runs alongside you, giving the EMTs as much information as he can.

“They were shot by a 7.5mm two minutes and forty seconds ago, it breached their trachea but there’s no exit wound so it’s likely lodged in the back of their oesophagus-” Spencer speaks through heaved breaths as his body fights to take in oxygen over his will to help the EMTs treat you as quickly as possible, following them into the back of the ambulance.

“They’ve been conscious the whole time this far but I think they’re going through pulmonary edema and-”

“Spence-” Your voice is barely audible through your struggle to breathe, joined by the pressure on your throat as well as under your diaphragm as one of the EMTs checks for signs of your lungs being flooded. “Don’t backseat doctor-”

The fact that you’re still conscious enough to lightly chastise him makes Spencer feel a little less panicked, although removing a pebble from a mountain doesn’t affect its height.

By the time you reach the hospital, you’re unconscious but not yet critical, and he almost follows you right into the OR until he’s blocked from the door by one of the nurses and escorted into the waiting area.

“Well let you know the second anything changes Dr Reid,”

He nods hastily as he sits down, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his feet against the linoleum floors.

You weren’t critical yet, but that didn’t mean that you’d pull through. You had flooded lungs and a bullet lodged somewhere in the back of your throat that they were going to surgically remove.

If something went wrong, that was it.

Spencer spends the first thirty minutes mentally beating himself up.

Why did he lash out at you? You were only doing what you thought was best to protect Emily.

Why did he say he’d only forgive you if you died? You didn’t mean to cause him any harm.

Why was he constantly managing to ruin anything positive that was happening between the two of you?

Maybe he was cursed.

Cursed to live a life of eternal suffering as the perpetual cost for the gift of his intelligence.

He would give up every IQ point he had if it meant that you would recover with no complications.

He would sacrifice his eidetic memory in an instant if it meant he got to make new ones with you.

He’d give up everything that he was prided on as long as you were okay. You needed to be okay.

The next forty-five minutes was spent in an anxious silence. The team had rushed to the hospital as soon as they’d secured the UnSub’s incarceration, only amplifying the tension in the waiting area.

As the nurse calls out your name to the room, the team immediately stands to rush over, everyone silently praying that you’re okay.

“We’re glad to say that the surgery was a success,”

Those words are enough for the anxiety to dwindle in the group, a wave of relief overtaking it.

“They’ve had to have a temporary tracheotomy, and due to the placement of the bullet lodged between their vertebrae, a spinal excision, but both procedures progressed with no issues, meaning they should recover perfectly fine,”

Morgan and Emily share a audible sigh of relief, overshadowed by Spencer’s voice, less anxious but still filled with adrenaline. “Can I see them?”

“They’re currently under supervised care to make sure they don’t destabilise, but if you leave your mobile number we will contact you when they wake,” The nurse passes Spencer a small post it note and a biro pen from her clip board and he doesn’t hesitate to scribble his name and number down before handing them back.

“They’re strong, most patients don’t remain conscious for more than a minute or two after an injury like that,” The nurse takes the pen and post it from Spencer with a small smile. “I have full faith that they’ll recover perfectly fine,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer extends his stay in Texas indefinitely.

The rest of the team had left for Quantico two days ago to file out all of the necessary paperwork for the case, with Spencer opting to remain in Texas until you were fit to fly home with him.

Home. He wonders if you’ll let him come home with you. To stay with you in your apartment again and live side by side with him once more.

Maybe he can convince you through your recovery; That patients recovering with spinal injuries need 24/7 attention just in case something happens.

Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.

Spencer’s plans for taking you home were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.

His heart rate increases as he picks the phone up from his hotel room’s coffee table, his hands trembling by the time he holds it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“McAllen County Hospital, am I speaking to Doctor Spencer Reid?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer is in his rental car almost before he hangs up the phone, driving the speed limit as he tries to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

He runs what he’s going to say when he sees you over and over again in his head on the way there, but by the time he reaches your hospital room his mind goes completely blank, and he just stands in the door staring at you.

“Hello to you too,” Your voice is very clearly strained and raspy, still recovering from the emergency tracheotomy you’d been given during surgery.

The sound of your voice, as dry and strained as it is, immediately sends Spencer into a fit of tears, and he rushes to take a seat on the plastic chair beside your bed with the most upset, regretful expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry,”

“Spence…” You reach out your hand out from the hospital bed, laying it against his lower thigh and squeezing it lightly.

“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you I know you were doing what’s right and I didn’t mean what I said I don’t want you to die I promise-” He takes in a sharp breath through his nose once he’s finished his ramble, and you wait a few seconds to make sure he’s actually finished before speaking yourself.

“You’re fine Spence…” Your hand trails up to grasp at his own, intertwining your fingers with his and giving them a small squeeze. “You had every right to be angry,”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly at you. “No, i’m sorry. What I said was wrong and you didn’t deserve that,”

Spencer exhales softly through his nose, his voice wavering and his hands trembling against your own. “Can you forgive me..?”

You question whether to make a joke about whether he’s close to dying or not, but opt out of it considering his fragile emotional state.

“How about we both forgive each other and call it even?” You let out a small chuckle at the end of your question, turning into more of a cough as it dries out your throat, and Spencer grabs the glass of water left on your bedside table with his free hand.

He holds it up to let you drink from it rather than unlinking your hands to let you hold the cup yourself, placing the styrofoam back down once you’re finished.

You give him a mildly embarrassed smile that he returns with one of his own, leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against yours.

If you weren’t recovering from a spinal surgery he would’ve had you in a bone crushing hug by now, but holding your hand and leaning his forehead to yours would suffice for now.

“Forgiven?” You allow your eyes to flutter closed at the soft contact, exhaling slowly through your nose.

“Forgiven…”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #asks 🫶

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nadvs · 3 days ago

Text

the act of unravelling (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.

He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.

“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”

You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”

You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.

“What’d you do?” you say.

“I swung at him.”

You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”

His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”

You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.

“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.

“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”

Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.

“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”

He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.

“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”

“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”

Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.

“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”

He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters now that you’ve earned a smile from him.

“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.

“I will. You, too?”

“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”

“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.

Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.

“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.

“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”

You nod as you chew on your lip.

“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”

“Good thinking to turn them off.”

Your face creases in surprise.

“What?” he says.

“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”

He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.

It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.

“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”

You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.

“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”

“Did you tell them the truth?”

“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”

Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.

“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.

Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.

“Nobody?” you ask quietly.

He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”

“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.

·········

The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.

The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating. You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family are doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.

You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.

Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.

“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”

“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”

The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.

“We know he dealt drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”

“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”

It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.

The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.

“How close are you to Rafe?”

“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”

“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.

You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”

·········

A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.

You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.

You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.

“You good?” JJ asks.

You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.

“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”

“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”

“You think he overdosed?” you ask.

“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.

“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.

“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”

You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.

“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”

You hope that’s not true.

·········

You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.

You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.

Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.

Does his family know what a monster he is?

You have to correct yourself.

Was.

“Slow down,” you hear.

Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.

“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.

“You’re on your second drink already.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.

“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.

It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.

“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.

Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.

But the truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.

He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.

“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”

You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.

“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.

You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.

Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.

The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.

“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.

“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.

“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.

“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”

“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”

“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”

“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”

“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“

“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.

“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Charity?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.

You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.

“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”

“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”

“Even your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.

But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.

“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”

“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”

“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.

It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.

He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?

The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.

You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?

Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.

Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.

Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.

His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.

“Not so hard,” you say.

“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”

You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.

Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.

“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.

Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?

“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”

“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”

He clutches the back of his head, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”

His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.

Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”

Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.

You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.

Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.

Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.

“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

·········

The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.

He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.

You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.

You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.

“You have a minute to talk?” he says.

You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.

to be continued

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sugarcoated-lame · 2 years ago

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Katie!!!! This chapter was amazing, incredible, fantastic, brilliant, every other nice word you can possibly think of !!! 💜 I loved getting even more insight into Bradley and Natasha’s teenager years

“I think that we should go.” Natasha speaks quietly, feeling eyes on her still from various men around the gym. She has known from day one that this wasn’t a safe place for her, but she came because Bradley needed her too. Now, it occurs to her that it has never been safe for him either.’ I know I’ve said it before on previous chapters, but I really appreciate Nat and Bradley’s friendship so much, and how even as kids they would still go out of their way to be there for and look out for one another 🥹

‘But Natasha’s efforts at protecting Bradley have always fallen short. She’s doing better at keeping you safe, and Bradley wouldn’t be good for you. Her priority remains the same.’ My heart absolutely broke a bit at Natasha trying and not being able to protect Bradley in the past from Emilia, I just love her dedication to her friends and how she wants to protect Bambi now too 🥺💜

Bambi’s run-in with Jett had me anxious and on the edge of my seat! My heart broke again seeing how terrified she was and how the encounter just completely shook all her confidence. I hate to see Bambi doubting herself, I just wanna hug her ): but also her first instinct being to wish that she had Rooster with her aaah 🥺 !!!

I loved Bradley refusing to let Bambi spend the night crying alone <3 and Bambi’s surprise at his genuine concern when she tells him what happened 🥺 I always love how neither one really knows what the other is thinking or feeling and how they’re constantly surprising one another with their actions, it’s such an interesting dynamic and makes them so enjoyable to read!

“Not just yet, Bambi — hang on a little bit more for me,” He nods his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of your jaw. He wraps a hand around the base of his cock and drags in back down, thick and heavy against your sensitive skin. He watches you as he dips just the tip into you. You gasp out, chest tightening, legs pushing against him. His lips quirk amusedly as he pulls back out again, “Then you can have it.”

I was waiting for this moment and omg it did not disappoint at all, as always your smut is impeccable, Katie <3 😵‍💫 And Bradley training Bambi aaaaaah !!!! Such a phenomenal chapter, definitely my favorite thus far and I’m beyond excited to see what happens next ❤️❤️

Blow by Blow | 1.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, insinuated grooming but nothing graphic (skip the italics to avoid), the return of an abusive ex, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected pinv

…

Nothing about Tony DeLuca running into Bradley was accidental. Nothing about Bradley winning his first six months of fights was by chance.

Word spread quickly that Maverick was refusing to train, afraid that he would put the poor kid in an early grave like he had to his old man. Poor Bradley didn’t have a clue. As far as he knew, his trusty old uncle just didn’t have the time of day for him anymore.

The kid lived and breathed boxing — and he was good at it too. He didn’t need a backup plan. He was easy to get on board. The promise of quick cash and glory had him hooked on the very first day.

Now, six months in, he really considers the people at Darkstar to be his friends. They’re kind to him because Tony tells them to be.

“This place gives me the fucking creeps.” Natasha mumbles quietly as she pencils in the answers to her geometry homework. Bradley doesn’t answer but that isn’t unusual these days. He’s either on top of the world or he’s furious. It’s hard to keep up with which is which. “Don’t you get weirded out about the people staring at us?”

People stare at Bradshaw’s too, but not the same as it is here. At Bradshaw’s, it’s amusement and surprise to see kids running around the place or training in the ring. It’s not like that here.

Still waiting for a response, she glances up. Bradley’s not looking at her. His head is craned so far around that it’s starting to look unnatural. She furrows her brows slightly and leans to the side so that she can follow his gaze.

“Huh?” Bradley mumbles without looking back at her.

She finally spots what he’s looking at. The tall blonde standing behind Tony, looking at Bradley like he might as well be made out of diamonds. Natasha frowns as she looks the woman over. Natasha knows Emilia. Tony’s wife is around every now and again, but she doesn’t make a habit of coming by the gym too often. Natasha knows that Emilia is too young and pretty for the man that she married, but she still doesn’t like the way that the woman is looking at her friend.

Natasha swings her boot into Bradley’s bare shin. Finally, she has his attention. He frowns at her incredulously, still youthful features contorting into a scowl. “Ow! What was that for?”

“I told Tony I’d stay and help him set up for his poker game. Why? — What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that woman is looking at you like you’re her next meal.” Natasha whispers, speaking through gritted teeth. Bradley’s lips quirk softly, his heart soaring a the fact that someone else noticed it.

“Yeah, she’s just looking,” Bradley glances back over there and shrugs his shoulders. He looks calmly back to Natasha. “It’s fine, she’s like that with everyone.”

It’s all over his face, though, that he likes the attention. He’s blushing even as he talks to her, a deep pink spreading over his cheeks and down his neck, under the oversized hoodie that he’s wearing.

“Even high-schoolers?” Natasha challenges, her tone cold. She hopes that it will wake Bradley up to what’s right in front of him, but he just shrugs again. He looks down at his homework and pretends to be focusing on it. Natasha looks back over to Emilia. Emilia meets her gaze with no shame, lips quirked at the sides.

“Fuck this place, I’m going home.”

“I fight in, like two hours! — We can’t leave.” Bradley frowns, grabbing her wrist as his best friend pushes herself up from the ground. Natasha stares down at him, completely serious.

“Promise me that you’ll stay away from her.” Natasha says softly.

“Why? — Her husband doesn’t make her happy, she told me so.” The response is immediate and confirms every fear that Natasha has in her head. She stomps her shoe into the concrete floor below them.

“Oh my god, Bradley, you’re so stupid!” Natasha groans, rolling her eyes as she picks her backpack up from the ground. She’s tired of this. Of sneaking out of her room once a month and getting dragged to the other side of the harbour to sit here on the ground and wait for Bradley to win a fight. Of Bradley never even thanking her for what she’s doing for him. He doesn’t see it.

Bradley stares at her, wounded. He and Natasha are frequently annoying to one another, but it’s always a joke. Now, she really does think that he’s stupid. He isn’t stupid. He turns his face away from her.

“Fuck off, Nat. Walk yourself home, if I’m so dumb.”

“Fine!” She bites back.

“Fine.” Bradley mumbles defeatedly as his gaze lands on the homework in front of him. He makes every effort not to look as his best friend leaves him there. He doesn’t get it, a lot of the time — the reason why people don’t like him. Maverick, he’s so tense around Bradley recently that they barely talk. Jake from the junior circuit, he’s had it out for Bradley since they met. Now, Nat.

Still focused on the lined page in front of him, he takes time to read the question and realizes that he definitely had gotten question three wrong. He sits forwards to pencil the correct answer in as the metal door swings shut behind Natasha with an embarrassingly loud clang.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and exhales slowly. He has only known Natasha for a year and a half, but she’s the best friend that he has ever had. Even if she’s a little mean to him sometimes.

“Was that your girlfriend, sweetie?” The voice is accompanied immediately by gentle touch, slender fingers gliding through Bradley’s loose curls as they’re stroked back off of his forehead. Bradley looks up at Emilia.

“No. She’s my friend.” Or she was, he isn’t sure.

“She’s pretty.” Emilia comments, fingers still carding through Bradley’s hair. It’s long and falls into his brown eyes, he’s practically hiding behind it as she looks over his face. “You would be cute together.”

Bradley gives a slow shake of his head, barely moving, afraid that she will withdraw her hand if he does. “It’s not like that.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t put you off your game tonight. It’s a big one, Tony’s so excited for you.” Emilia explains, sliding her fingers away from Bradley’s soft curls and cascading them along his smooth cheek. He leans away from her touch just slightly out of instinct.

“I’ll be fine.” He says quietly, swinging his homework book closed and shoving it towards his backpack. He sits up a little straighter and squares his shoulders.

Emilia’s scarlet-coloured lips tilt upwards at the corners as she watches him intently. Bradley squirms under her gaze, dropping his eyes down to look at the floor instead.

“Mind if I sit with you for a bit, Bradley?” She asks tenderly, stroking her thumb along the curve of his chin. He swallows softly to make sure that his voice isn’t going to crack when he speaks.

“Sure.”

Natasha watches Bradley now, working with a client who’s around seventeen, still fighting in the junior circuit. She doesn’t ever remember thinking that they looked that young when they were that age. Rounded cheeks, smooth skin where there will one day be stubble. She glances back to Bradley and frowns slightly.

His cheeks, chin and his neck now littered with scars, he looks a little older than she does but he always has. She does her best to think back to what he looked like back then, before the scars and before that stupid mustache.

She can’t quite picture it right anymore, but she knows that the kid he’s sparring with looks like a kid. Now that Nat’s all grown up, she knows the difference. Just like Emilia did.

“Morning!”

You round the corner with Tank in tow, smiling softly. Natasha turns her head and gives you a quick and polite smile. She has already heard by now that Bradley stayed over at your place again this weekend. It’s a shame really, she should be rooting for the two of you. You would be good for him.

But Natasha’s efforts at protecting Bradley have always fallen short. She’s doing better at keeping you safe, and Bradley wouldn’t be good for you. Her priority remains the same.

You glance quickly towards the ring as Bradley swings his glove into his opponent’s abdomen. The younger boy grunts and doubles over. Bradley groans and leans his head back, “Come on, man — does the word defence mean anything to you?”

“Morning,” Natasha smiles. She leans her head into yours as you hug her gently, tucking your arms around her shoulders. You settle as your attention is pulled away from Rooster. “Did you want to go down to the beach or something today? — I could do with getting out of here.”

Your face immediately lights up, lips parting in surprise. “Oh, Nix — I wish I could, Jake wants me training all morning. We could maybe go this afternoon?”

She nods as she lets you go, watching you glance quickly towards the ring again. Your gaze lingers for a second too long before it’s back on her. “Yeah. This afternoon. How are you feeling about your fight tomorrow?”

Bradley rolls his eyes as the kid in front of him trips again. He catches sight of Maverick watching him through the office blinds and straightens up. Maybe he isn’t the best teacher, but Mav was never any better. Mav has always expected more from Bradley than he had from himself. They’ve both disappointed each other plenty already.

The track over the speakers switches to something with a stronger tempo. He turns his attention back to the client and nods for them to continue. The boy sighs and wipes sweat from his forehead.

“Kind of scared.” You admit, brushing your hair back away from your face as your gaze turns back towards Rooster to make sure that he hadn’t overheard you. He hadn’t; too busy barking orders at the teenager in the ring.

Natasha doesn’t really understand. She hasn’t felt afraid for a fight since she was eleven. But she nods anyway, sympathetic as the two of you talk ringside.

It’s all too easy. Natasha nodding empathetically as she listens to your worries. Jake encouraging you through your morning training. Rooster leaving early for a morning appointment so you don’t have to feel him watching you train. Then, an afternoon spent on the beach with Natasha and Mickey.

You wave goodbye to them both outside Mickey’s apartment, only letting them drive you back that far and insisting that you’ll be fine walking the rest of the way. That was your first mistake. You spot him, at first, out of the corner of your eye. Just a shadow in your peripheral.

Without having to turn your head, you know that it’s him. His head turns as you cross the parking lot of a grocery store, hoping to be able to rush right past him without him recognising you. That’s stupid. Of course he’ll recognise you. He’s been actively looking for you.

Jett turns as he calls out your name. You keep walking, stumbling as you try to pick up the pace.

“Babe, babe, slow down.” He jogs to catch up to you, you can hear the soles of his vans hitting along the parking lot as he nears you. Your fingers fumble for your house key, wondering silently why you hadn’t just let Mickey drive you. You slot the keys between your fingers and continue walking, not daring to look back. He calls your name behind you. “Can you just wait for me? — Baby, I need to talk to you.”

Numbness spreads through your limbs like a chill, even with the lingering afternoon heat. You try to keep up your pace, moving as quickly as your trembling legs will carry you.

It feels so wrong to hear him call you that, his voice hangs around in the air like it’s waiting there to suffocate you. You should have brought Tank, or Rooster — no, Rooster being here would be a bad thing. But god, you’d feel better if he was.

His fingers curl around your wrist, icy and rigid as he tugs you back. You pull against him and try not to turn, but you know that having your back to him is even worse than having to look him in the eye. You turn towards him, the cold of his skin spreading up your arm and through your body when you finally meet his gaze.

“Where are you running off to, baby?” Immediately, his free hand reaches for your face. Your reaction settles somewhere between a flinch and a recoil, tripping over the curb behind you as you move to take a step back. His fingers curling tighter around your wrist is an all too familiar feeling, and so is the nausea that follows it.

“My friends are waiting for me.” You answer, knowing that your trembling voice gives you away. You watch his face change, it’s a brief split-second kind of thing, but you know the cues. He hates when you act afraid of him. It only irritates him more.

“Oh yeah, your new buddies over at the gym.” Jett chuckles. You’ve got better control over your reactions than he does, so he doesn’t notice how much of a punch to the gut this is. That he knows where you are, and where you’ve been this entire time.

“Yeah.” You try to sound calm. There’s probably someone still there, maybe Maverick. Fuck, you hope that he’s still there.

“Baby,” Jett tries to close the gap between you as you stumble for footing, backing away as much as his iron-tight grip on your wrist will let you. His voice is so gentle and he’s smiling at you like he would never hurt you again. You’ve been here before. “Can we not do this? — I know that last argument sucked, but come on, we’ve been through worse. We can just talk it out.”

You shake your head softly, brows scrunching. “No.”

Jett reaches for your face again and this time curls his fingers around the nape of your neck to stop you from pulling away. As he brings himself closer, the nausea consumes you. His smell, the look on his face, his fingers on your skin.

“Please let go.” You squeak out, voice strained as you will yourself not to cry in front of him. That has always made things worse. Jett’s brows scrunch together slightly. He doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t understand what it is that makes you pull away from his touch like this is.

He strokes his thumb along the nape of your neck and a sob catches in your throat. Closing your eyes, you swallow the sound and try to pull back.

“Please, tell me what I can do to fix this.”

“Nothing. It’s over, I left. So, let me go.”

“Yeah, you blocked my number,” Jett’s palm remains on the back of your neck, curling tighter around it, keeping you close to him. You stare right ahead of you, at the store, willing someone to just come out and see him, breathing through your nose. “You fucking embarassed me, everyone’s been asking me where you went!”

The sky is calm overhead and a tightness in your throat that only grows as the sole of his hightop inches closer to you across the asphalt. You swallow softly and square out your shoulders. The closer he is to you, the more that your heartbeat thuds in your ears.

“I’m done being your doormat.” Your voice is quieter than you intended, it undermines the message you’re trying to get through. Your gaze remains on his shoes as he takes another step forwards, primarily focusing on the spot of blood on the lace. You know that it’s yours.

“Oh yeah?” You can hear it in his voice that he’s got a grin on his face. Goosebumps erupt across your arms, chest tightening as he draws closer across the asphalt again. You can’t bring yourself to look at that smile on his face. “You’re tough now?”

You close your eyes all together, turning your face away. The smell of his cologne tells you that he’s getting closer. Your legs are frozen, staying exactly where they are. You couldn’t move them if you tried.

“Are you alright, miss?” The voice calls out from across the parking lot and Jett drops your wrist immediately. You barely give your eyes time to open before you turn on the heel of your shoe and sprint.

Running until your lungs feel like they’re going to give out and beyond that. Tears burn your cheeks as you race up the steps to the apartment, instinct forces the key into the lock on the first try and you slam it shut behind you, locking it again. You fall to the floor, back pressed to the door, sobs wracking your body.

You’re grateful for your new friends. You adore the ways that each of them care for you and let you care for them. Helping Mav with his phone. Letting Mickey ramble to you for hours about why the Star Wars sequels were done badly. Helping Natasha with her client schedule.

You adore each of them. But you should have listened to Rooster. You weren’t ready for this, you’ll probably never be good enough to do what they do and today provided with a reality check about all of that. You weren’t ready for this — all it took was a tiny knock from Jett and you crumpled like paper.

Laying on your floor until the tears stop soaking Tank’s fur, you lay there with him until you’re certain that you’re done. Then, you wash your face and change into your pyjamas, curling up on the couch with a blanket over your legs and Tank settled in against your side. He always seems to be extra snuggly when you’re sad.

An hour of peace passes, your tear-induced headache starts to fade and you find your eyelids growing heavier as the TV show that you’re watching nears the end of its first season. You think back to the text you had sent Jake in the middle of your hysterics, telling him that you’re sorry and that there’s no way you can fight tomorrow. You glance down at your dark phone screen, secure in your decision to have switched it off earlier.

Weight hits the outside of the door and keys fumble for the lock. You pinch the bridge of your nose and will yourself not to start crying out of frustration. You know exactly what’s coming next, and you aren’t in the mood for it. In fact, you’re just about in the mood to kill Bradley.

The lock clicks open in compliance and he comes stumbling through the front door. From his usual spot on the couch, you glare at him as he finds his balance by bracing himself against the door handle.

He’s soaked, white t-shirt clinging to his skin and see through, jeans dripping onto your floor, curls swept back messily off of his face. Rooster takes a second to look you over. Sitting cross-legged on the couch in your pyjamas, tear stained cheeks. He draws his own conclusion about what’s happening with the fight.

Swinging the door shut behind him, not noticing the way you flinch with its slam, he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and peels it up. “Hate to say I told you so, but—“

“Get out.”

His brows furrow as he holds his soaking wet t-shirt balled up in his hand. The droplets of rain slide along his soaked skin, dripping onto your floors as he smiles breathlessly, “Come on, I’m just messing with—“

“Get the fuck out of my apartment. Sleep downstairs, sleep in your car — I don’t fucking care, just get out!” Your fingers curl into the throw pillow at your side, plush under your fingertips. It’s soft, but your aim never falters. He just about catches it as it hits him in the chest.

Rooster raises his brows, holding the little pink throw pillow against his bare chest, having dropped his shirt to the floor now. He looks you over again. No bruises, no cuts. Nothing.

“What happened?” He takes a couple of steps forwards, features creasing into something that resembles concern but knowing him and his emotional capacity, probably isn’t. He approaches you cautiously, well aware of the several objects nearby that you could also turn into projectiles if you wanted to.

“Can you just leave, please? — You’re the last person I want to see right now.” You whimper, throwing yourself back against the couch cushions and pulling your knees up to your chest. Bradley still tries to lighten the mood.

“But you always let me sleep over.” He frowns.

“Exactly! — And you’re always still an asshole,” Your fingers curl into another throw pillow. Tank looks at Rooster, unfazed and his head still in your lap. Rooster drops the first pillow in preparation for the second. “So, what’s the point in being nice?”

The second throw pillow slips past his open hands, hitting him in the stomach and falling to the ground. Even more confused now, Rooster doesn’t slow his cautious steps towards you.

“I am so sick,” You rush out, voice raised, fists clenched, staring right at him. “Of asshole guys treating me however the fuck they want! So, get the fuck out!”

Finally, Bradley stops walking towards you. About four feet away, he raises his hands in defense and his face softens. Dropping his hands black down to his sides, he remains stationary in the middle of your apartment, just looking you over.

“So, you’re not doing the fight?” He asks calmly.

You turn and roll onto your stomach, pressing your face into a throw pillow. You refuse to let another man see you cry today. Your response comes muffled, barely audible on account of how hard you’ve squashed your face into the pillow. “Leave me alone.”

Bradley glances at Tank at your feet and takes a cautious step forwards. Having your back as always, Tank’s low growl is enough to warn Bradley not to come any closer.

“Bambi,” Rooster says softly. If he could get closer, he’d rub your back and tell you that it’s alright. “Come on. Whatever happened, y’know, whatever freaked you out — it’s natural. Everyone gets scared before their first fight.”

Your response comes out muffled again, even harder to understand this time because of the tremble to your voice.

“What?” Bradley frowns.

“I ran into Jett today.” You answer into the pillow. This time Rooster carries himself forwards and your dog doesn’t bother him. He smooths his hand gently along your back.

“What did he say? — You want me to do something?”

You turn your head to look at Bradley, then scrunch your brows softly. Tears trail along your already wet face as you study the sincerity on his features. You’ve never had someone offer to beat up an ex for you before. You shake your head softly.

Rooster reaches out and strokes his thumb gently along the back of your shoulder, onto the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry that happened. If you see him again, I want you to call me.” He lifts his hand slowly, to not startle you, wiping the salty tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t want to call you,” You mumble out, turning your face into the pillow again. Rooster’s brows furrow softly. “I want to not be scared of him anymore. I’m—“ You pause to swallow a sob as Rooster sits forwards and kisses your bicep softly. “It’s stupid. I thought that I was getting over it, and then I saw him, and all of it went out the window. I can’t fight someone when I couldn’t even tell him to get his hands off of me today.”

“He touched you?” Bradley’s features tighten. You simply groan into the pillow in response, then shake your head. “Bambi. I want answers here.”

“Can you and your saviour complex go somewhere else? — I’d like to be alone, please.” You hug the pillow closer and exhale heavily into its fluffy exterior. Bradley frowns, he sits back on his heels and just watches you for a few moments. Shooting a quick glance to the weather outside, and the way you’re so clearly going to spend an entire night crying if he leaves, he has already decided that he’s staying.

Bradley looks you over and smooths his hand over your shoulder blades. “Alright, get up.”

“Absolutely not.” You groan, hugging the pillow tighter and turning onto your side so that you are tucked in against the back of the couch, facing away from him.

“Up.” He grabs hold of your ankle and tugs.

The next fifteen minutes are back and forth, bickering between the two of you, him tugging at your limbs and you threatening to hit him with them. You scowl as you pad barefoot through the gym behind him, arms folded over your chest. It’s freezing down here at night time.

“What are we doing?” You complain as he flicks on half of the overhead lights and trips the overnight alarm so that no one will bother you whilst you’re down here. Bradley walks ahead of you wearing socks and his jeans, his soaked shirt and shoes still upstairs on your floor.

“You’re right. I’m not gonna be there all the time,” Bradley calls back to you. You stop walking and stare at the back of him, wondering if that’s really what he had taken away from your talk upstairs. “If you want to feel like you can handle yourself then you’ve got to stop training like such a little bitch.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re training with Jake, I’ve seen you — you barely hit each other.”

“So, you brought me downstairs to hit me?” You raise your eyebrows as he pulls himself up into the ring. He rolls his eyes and leans his forearms against the ropes.

“No, I brought you down here to let you hit me. Knowing that you can hit someone and hit them hard is like the first part of being confident in the ring.” He looks you over, standing by the weights in your pyjamas with your arms folded over your chest. You follow his gaze and realize that you definitely should have put on a bra. It hadn’t seemed like much of a priority when he was dragging you off of your sofa by your legs.

Bradley glances down at the wet denim clinging to his thighs and goes for the button on his jeans immediately.

“If you take your pants off, I’m leaving.” You warn him. Bradley’s lips quirk softly as he continues to tug his zipper down. He rolls his shoulders back, the muscles in his arms contracting as he stretches.

“Well, would you be a dear and grab me my spare shorts from Mav’s office?” He asks, bracing his hands on the ropes. He watches you roll your eyes and wander off to the office. The pyjama set that you chose were not supposed to be seen, let alone by him. You’ve had the shorts for years and they hug your ass a little snugly nowadays. He’s not complaining, a soft smirk on his lips as he watches you walk away.

He slips his phone from the pockets of his jeans, already connected to the speakers. He picks his personal workout playlist over the gym’s one. Something that you don’t already listen to every day. You wander back with his shorts balled up in your hand. He has his jeans hung over the ropes on the far side, standing in just his boxers and the gold cross necklace that he usually wears.

You throw him the shorts as you pull yourself up into the ring.

“I thought you’d be smiling,” Bradley comments as he steps into the shorts, setting them comfortably around his waist. “I’m literally giving you a free pass to punch me in the face.

You glare silently at him as he wraps your hands and secures Natasha’s gloves around your wrists. Music blaring over the speakers, he grabs your arms and puts them into position himself, then grabs your hips and knocks your feet into the spots he would like.

Manhandled into the correct stance, he stands before you to begin.

Bradley isn’t a nice teacher. He just has never understood why it doesn’t come as naturally to other people as it does to him. You can see it in his face that he’s biting his tongue every time you screw up. Whenever you drop your guard or fumble a punch. He just stares at you like he’s got a lot to say about it.

“I’m not gonna hold still for you, hit me like you mean it.” Bradley’s voice is stern and his eyes are so dark that it’s almost unnerving. He steps forward and his jab taps you in the stomach, just letting you know that if someone wanted to hurt you, they could. Your guard isn’t good enough.

You swallow, wondering if he can tell how much your hands are trembling with the gloves on. You glance down at the padded gloves, then at him.

“Hit me, Bambi — I can take it.” He promises you, nodding his head for you to go on. You curl your fists tight and then loosen them again, exhaling slowly. You step and jab, he side-steps you easily and taps his glove against your cheek. “Don’t wait to hit. Saw you coming from a mile away. Again.”

His guard focuses on his neck and jaw, elbows squared to protect his middle. But, after his side-step, his left side is just slightly exposed. You step and jab at the same time, catching him in the ribs. He nods at you.

Opening his mouth to praise you, he stops and taps his glove to the bottom of your chin. “That was good, but you just left your face completely open. C’mon, baby. Pay attention.”

It goes on like that. Dancing around the ring with him under the dim overhead light, thinking that you’ve got him good and then him tapping your face or your ribs or your stomach. The urge to quit comes and goes in a constant ebb. Hearing the nice things that he has to say almost makes hearing the bad things worth it.

“I’m tired.”

“So quit.” He tells you, face calm, eyes on yours, guard still up. “Drop your guard and take off your gloves.”

You stare at him.

“Would that make you feel better?” Rooster asks, the question appearing to be genuine. You know better than to assume that it is. You don’t bother answering him. “I bet it would make Jett feel better, watching you throw the towel—“

You step and jab at the same time, your glove catching the curve of his jaw and making his head turn. Your eyes widen and you step instinctively back. Rooster’s lips quirk. He looks you over and nods. “Perfect form. Atta girl, go again.”

“But I — “

“I told you to hit me,” Rooster nods calmly, “We’re training, baby. That was good. That was really good.”

“That’s it! Better,” He coaxes, stepping around the ring, glancing down at your footwork every now and again. “Guard.” He reminds you, tapping your cheek.

He grunts softly as you catch him in the ribs. Your breath catches as he looks up grinning. His brown eyes exceptionally dark, face only half illuminated from the lights. Your gaze trails. The sweat on his skin glistens and reflects in the light, making him all that much bigger. He nods, “Again.”

You stare at him. Watching you curiously and wondering what you could possibly be thinking now. He pauses for a moment to wonder if he has pushed you too far.

“C’mon, baby,” He nods for you to go ahead, exhaling slowly. “You almost had it.”

You glance down at the gold cross hanging between his collarbones, then back up at the sweat beading on his brow. His broad shoulders, thick arms — the fact that he came here tonight because he cares enough to check on you. His hands hang at his sides, your eyes linger on the swell of them for a moment.

“Ba—“

He’s cut off as you take three quick steps forwards, the fastest footwork that he has seen from you all night actually and throw an arm around his shoulders. You tug him down and press your mouth hungrily into his. Instinctively, his hands find your hips.

You throw yourself into him, knowing that he’ll catch you, and he does. Tucking his arms around your middle, he keeps you secure against him as you nip softly at his bottom lip. Pressed into his chest, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, enveloping you in it as your tongue strokes alongside his.

“Baby, what’s—“

“Please don’t call me that.” You breath out against him, pulling one arm back from around his shoulders. He watches, brows raising in faint surprise, half-amusement, as you bite the tab of the Velcro that secures the glove to your wrist and tear it off.

“I’ve got it.” He tells you, his voice calm and velvety as he catches hold of your arm and helps you out of the gloves. The second that he has the velcro off, you shake your hands out and send the leather flying back down to the canvas. Immediately, your hands are back on him again, snaking around his shoulders as you pull him into another kiss.

He presses the heel of his foot into your ankle, effectively tripping you, but it’s okay because his arms keep you from falling. You’re tucked safely against him as he presses you into the canvas. You lift your hips as much as you can with his weight bearing down on them, searching for some kind of reaction from him.

Rooster’s quick in knowing what you want. He slots a thick thigh against the apex of your thighs and grabs a tender fistful of your hair, tugging you back softly, just enough so that he can look at your face.

“What do you want?” He breathes out, pressing his chest into yours to keep you pinned into the canvas. His free hand skims along your thigh, squeezing into the flesh lustfully.

“I’ll give you three guesses.” You answer back, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. You lift your head, impatient, pressing your mouth to his throat. Bradley’s fingers curl tighter into your hair as you kiss along his neck, sucking gently at the taut skin.

“Not time to be catching an attitude, Bambi.” Rooster mumbles, letting his hands skin your sides, stopping to curl them around either side of your ribcage. He pulls back and pressed you down harder into the canvas, letting his brown eyes trail your body. His cock stirs in his shorts, fingers following his gaze. He reminds himself who he’s with.

Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he grabs your hand and curls it around the growing bulge in his shorts. “You want it?”

He squeezes his palm softly over the top of yours, your lips parting at he hardens under your touch.

“Mm,” You nod hurriedly. Doubt crosses his face for a split-second, you catch his gaze linger on the delicate butterfly pyjamas that you’re wearing. “Remember when you said that I could hit you because you could take it?”

His brows scrunch, but he nods nonetheless.

“Yeah, me too.” You breathe out, catching the back of his neck and pulling him hard onto you. It takes him a second to figure out what you’re talking about. You can feel it when he realizes, his grip on your hips tightening as he grinds himself against your core.

The two thin pairs of shorts that you’re each wearing do nothing to separate you, you can feel exactly how worked up every inch of him is with every move that he makes. You gasp softly as his hands curl into the sides of your tank top, the sound of stitching splitting as he tugs you up and slips it over your head. His mouth is on you too quickly afterwards for you to care.

He groans softly, grabbing both of your arms by the biceps and pinning them at your sides, glancing quickly up at you before he starts off by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your sternum. He works his way up, feeling you squirming against his grip as he reaches your breasts. Rocking his hips forwards at the same time as his mouth reaches your nipple, you gasp out from the contact. He flicks his tongue over the bud, feeling it harden and pebble in his mouth.

His fingers curl tighter around your biceps as he pulls back and grazes his teeth over the peaked flesh. As much as you can move, you squirm, chasing his mouth as he pulls back and moves onto the other breast.

Sucking, biting, grinding his cock against your core through the thin confines of your clothes. Just like he’s naturally good at boxing, you can’t help but wonder if all of this comes naturally to him too. It feels like it does. Pulling back, you try to sit up with him, gasping as he pressed you back down hard by your arms.

His gaze trails your torso, admiring the faint marks he has left on your tits, the remnants of his saliva that glisten through the dimmed lighting. He rests his open palm against your chest, freeing one of your arms, trailing it slowly along your sternum and down your navel. Seemingly enthralled in what he sees before him.

His palm goes right back to your arm as you attempt to move, pressing you down and covering you with a fraction of his weight as his attention goes right to your throat. He sinks his teeth into the base of your neck, just enough to make your back arch and the rest of your throat available to him. You moan contentedly, the sound vibrating off of each wall under the cover of the music.

Rooster glances down between your bodies and watches himself as he rocks the bulge in his shorts onto your core again and again. You’re tugged out of your daze as his mouth deserts your neck.

“Fuck, Bambi.” He tugs at your hips, lifting them enough to grab hold of your shorts and pull them down over the curve of your ass. Rooster pushes your thighs back, your shorts caught around your knees and keeping your legs together. Perfectly on display from him from where he is.

Resting his palm on your pelvic bone, he swipes his thumb through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digit. Grabbing the centre of the shorts, he pushes on the fabric. They guide your legs with them, making you whimper softly. Settled on his knees, he leans over and presses his chest to the backs of your thighs, curling his hand around your jaw.

You take his thumb into your mouth without dispute, wrapping your lips around the soaked digit. Bradley exhales slowly, glancing back down as he rolls his hips against your soaked core. Your excitement coats the front of his shorts, pitching over the tent in the material. His lips quirk softly at the sight, cock twitching in anticipation.

You press your teeth lightly into his thumb to bring his attention back up to you. His amused smirk grows as he presses the digit further into your mouth and grazes your throat. Tears brim in your eyes as he pulls the digit back from your mouth and curls his hand around your jaw. You moan into his mouth as he ruts his hips into your exposed core.

A particularly sharp throb has him groaning against you. He shoves at the waistband of his shorts, pushing it down just enough to expose himself. You suck in a sharp breath as the tip of his cock slides along the apex of your thighs. It dips between your folds, stroking along your core.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” He pants out, gaze focused between your legs. You whine gently, trying to push against him for more friction. Bradley lifts his gaze from between your legs and watches your face. Lips parted, looking up at him with baited breath, waiting for what comes next.

His chain dangles against your chin as he licks into your mouth. A strangled whimper catches in your throat as he rocks the flushed head of his cock against your clit.

“Rooster,” You breathe out, lifting your head. He presses his chest to the backs of your thighs, his weight keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Please.”

Sitting back on his knees, he tugs your shorts the rest of the way down your legs, thick hands grabbing at your hips and flipping you onto your front. You yelp softly as you land on your knees, barely catching yourself on your palms.

Bradley’s palm trails your spine swiftly and curls around the nape of your neck, guiding your head down until your cheek is pressed into the canvas. From there, you’re certain that you know what comes next. You wriggle your hips a little as you get comfy on your knees, spreading them apart in anticipation.

Watching with his bottom lip between his teeth, Bradley grins as he watches you. He taps his palm against your ass cheek, then settles it against the small of your back. He nudges you forwards, pressing your cheek into the canvas more firmly. You close your eyes and inhale slowly, waiting for the stretch to come. You jolt as his mouth meets your core, wet and warm.

“Oh— oh.” You choke out, hands scrambling for purchase against the barren plains of the canvas, the muscle of his tongue dips into you. He pressed his hand into the small of your back, free hand grabbing at your hip.

His fingers press tighter into your hip, keeping you still as he pulls back to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, gathering your juices on his tongue. Already soaking, your excitement spills out onto his chin as he flicks his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Rooster groans against your core, grazing his teeth over your clit as he pulls back. You jolt forwards, whimpering onto the canvas. He presses his index and middle fingers into you at once, biting down on his lip as you hug his digits.

“Fuck,” He hums softly, curling his fingers forwards, letting them knock into that spongy part of your walls that has you crying out. He mouths along the curve of your ass, peppering kisses over all of the skin he can reach. “God, Bambi, you’re killing me here.”

You whine in response, pushing back against him. Still no words. He presses a soft kiss to the small of your back as he slips out of his shorts. He knows you’ll get there.

Finally, the tip of his cock grazes through your folds again. Bradley exhales slowly, holding onto your hip as he presses into you. You gasp out immediately, the sound catching in your throat as you jerk away from him.

“It’s alright, kid,” Bradley promises, pressing his chest to your back. He mouths softly at your shoulder, along the curve of your neck. “I’ll go slow.”

“N-No!”

Bradley stops entirely. His brows furrow as he waits for you to explain what the fuck that outburst was. You swallow softly, feeling your skin flush in embarrassment.

“I mean — I — You don’t have to.” You breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut, furious with yourself. Bradley kisses your shoulder blade, feeling how tightly wound the muscles in your back are.

He rolls his hips forwards slowly until he’s buried into you completely. You exhale, feeling your jaw unclench as you realize that you haven’t killed the moment. Bradley groans softly against your back and shakes his head as your walls hug the length of his cock.

“You just let me know if I’m not living up to your standards, alright, Bambi?” He teases, breath tickling your neck and sending an electric shiver down your spine. Biting your lip, you give a meek nod of your head. Pulling back slowly, he lets his head fall back as the slick of your walls hugs his cock.

He rests his palm against the back of your neck and slopes your back, holding his breath as he presses into you again. It’s almost a moan, the baited little exhale that slips your lips. Bradley rocks his hips forwards again, gaging your reaction as his skin slaps into yours. You hum, pushing back eagerly against him.

Just like boxing, Bradley quickly learns where to be and how to move. Fucking into you with a hand pressed into the base of your skull to keep you down against the canvas, a soft smirk on his lips as your moans fill the gym. He hangs forwards, pressing his chest to your back and covering your body with his.

There is a thin line between grunting and outright growling, and Bradley teeters over the edge of it with each thrust. Slamming his hips forwards, rutting himself deeply into you. A strangled noise escapes your throat as your knees buckle under you, the only thing keeping you from hitting the canvas being his grip on your waist.

He’s relentless, dragging against your walls as he bottoms out again and again. Rooster grunts, leaning forward and pressing filthy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of your back. You push back against him desperately.

Your stomach tightens, legs trembling as you almost slip onto your stomach again. Bradley slips out of you and grabs your waist, flipping you onto your back. You land with a soft ‘oof’ and a longing whimper.

“I know, baby, I know.” He soothes, capturing the sounds you’re making with his mouth as he fills you once again, hiking your legs up around his waist. You grab his shoulders for leverage, arching away from the canvas and into his chest. He grunts out, breathing hard as he rests his forehead against your collarbones.

“Fuck,” He pants against your chest, curling his hands tighter around your hips, letting one of them slip between your legs. His index and middle fingers circle your clit together. “Shit, you feel so good.”

You open your mouth with every intention of answering him, the first syllable of your response catching in your throat, replaced with a desperate whimper. His mouth catches on to your throat, nipping feverishly along your soft skin as his fingers continue, relentless between your legs.

Often, there’s no way of telling for sure, but Rooster knows when he brings you to your orgasm. He practically feels you let go of that tightness in your stomach, legs squeezing around his hips as your muscles go tense. Your nails raking over his shoulders like it’s the only thing keeping you with him is also a good indicator.

Your walls squeeze around him, lips pressing lazily to his neck as your fingers tickle the hairs at the nape of his neck. His cock twitches as he pulls out abruptly, coating your pelvic bone and your navel in warm ropes of cum. He groans as he covers your body with his, resting his sweat-dampened forehead against yours. “Holy fuck.”

You hum tiredly, trailing your fingers along his muscled back.

He lifts his head finally and looks at your face, smoothing your messy hair back off of your face. Silence lingers between the two of you as Bradley cards his fingers over the top of your hair so that he can look closely at your face.

“I’ll train you.” Bradley decides, his voice soft as he presses his lips softly against yours. Your eyes widen briefly. You tilt your head at him, lips quirking. You lift your head and kiss his chin. “We’ll reschedule tomorrow.”

“Might have been kind of unprofessional to fuck your client in the ring, though.” You point out, lifting your hand and toying with the cross necklace as it dangles over your lips.

He shrugs his shoulders and squeezes his hands around your waist playfully, “Gotta warm up somehow.”

…

@khaylin27 @sharpsapphic666 @fudge13 @averyhotchner @hangmanscoming @bradshawseresinbabe @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @phoenix1388 @perpetuelledaydreaming @princess76179 @cherrycola27 @wkndwlff @xoxabs88xox @galaxy-moon

#I apologize for this novel length comment lol 🥺#I just loved this so much!#Bradley and Bambi are very quickly becoming my favorite couple #I’m obsessed with their dynamic #‘if you want to feel like you can handle yourself then you’ve got to stop training like such a little bitch.’ the scream i scrumpt #Bradley calling Bambi kid sends my brain spiraling into another dimension #‘might have been kind of unprofessional to fuck your client in the ring thought’ giggling and kicking my feet I love them so much #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #top gun maverick #boxer rooster #faves

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strangelysamantha · 17 days ago

Text

leverage ☆

rafe cameron x fem!reader.

warnings: kidnapping, violence, mention of drugs, swearing, rude comments, guns, abuse, threats.

summary: when barry doesn’t get his money from rafe, he goes to the next best thing. you.

a/n: thought about this randomly haha. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please like and comment! :) requests are open and even if you don’t have a request, you can always ask a question or tell a funny joke instead. <3

master list is pinned.

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“if you don’t give me the money, your ass is gonna be sorry.” barry stared at rafe while he ran his hands through his hair. “i promise. i’ll get you the money, man. i just need some time.” barry laughs, “you better or this won’t be pretty.” barry hesitated before continuing, “and, i mean you don’t have a lot of time. i'd say a week max.” rafe nodded, understanding. “alright. i’ll get it, don’t worry.” barry laughs, “i’m not worried, trust me on that.” he smirked before walking inside his trailer. rafe hopped on his motorcycle, speeding away. his mind running as he thought of ways to come up with twenty grand. he only had a week, and he was definitely stressing out.

rafe didn’t inform you about his entanglement with barry. perhaps if he had brought it up, you wouldn’t be where you were currently. you were working, just going on about your day. a customer had asked you to walk them to your car. it was an elderly woman; you couldn’t deny her some assistance. you smile, “of course! which car is yours?” you asked, heading towards the parking lot.

in retrospect you should have concluded how abnormal it was for an elderly woman to have parked so far away in such a dark car. she laughed once you approached the car, and that was when a rock was smashed against your skull. then a sack was thrown over your head. rope contained your hands, forcing them against your back, burning from the fiction of the rope rubbing together.

you stopped fighting, realizing it was useless, and whoever was kidnapping you would only become more agitated and aggressive. you were pushed into what felt like a backseat, a needle inserted into your arm, making you unconscious.

the next time you wake up, it’s in an unfamiliar room. it’s dark, and humid. you try and lift your arms but realize they were still held together firmly, with rope behind your back. as well as your wrists, your ankles were tied together too. you tried to speak, and surprisingly your voice, despite being hoarse, was able to make noise. “hello?” you called out.

barry walks in, a gun in his hand. “oh wakey wakey sunshine.” your face twists with confusion

. “i- what? why? why am i tied up? what’s going on?” you bombard him with questions he never answers. “that boyfriend of yours… he’s not going to be so happy now, is he? he’s short, 20 grant short, and because he can’t pay me, i’m gonna take the next valuable thing he has. that’s you.” you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. you didn’t want to freak out and spiral. “he’s not my boyfriend. i mean what the fuck barry?” you stared up at him. “oh, oh shit. you actually aren’t rafe's girlfriend?” you roll your eyes. “no. he doesnt want to date me.” you frown at your own confession. barry looks at you with sympathy. it didn’t last though, now he was overwhelmed because the leverage he thought he had wasn’t even leverage. “shit… man.”

rafe on the other hand, was terrified. while rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, he definitely liked you the most out of all of his friends. he concluded that he loves you, but he’s been too scared to make any moves. that wasn’t what terrified him though, what was currently nagging at rafe was the fact that you hadn’t met with him. the two of you had a daily schedule that included you stopping by his house after work.

with you not stopping by his house, on top of you not answering his texts. he began to feel worried. rafe's phone dinged indicating he got a message, and he practically sprinted to the phone. he saw a message from barry, it was a video. he hesitated before opening it. his eyes widened in horror as the video he was watching was of you. a gun pressed against your temple while you were tied up in a chair.

he tightened his grip around his phone, his jaw clenched, and chest heavy. he examines the video playing in front of him, inspecting it to see if he recognizes the background. rafe’s heart hurts as he has to rewatch you fear for your life due to his mistakes. he unfortunately didn't recognize the background.

he didn’t have time to play games, he immediately responded to barry. he shot back a text, asking why the fuck he had you, and where he was. barry immediately responded, do you have the money? rafe groaned, his hands on his head as he paced around his living room. his heart was stinging at the thought of the situation he had put you in. he should have saw this coming, should have noticed that you were the thing barry could ruin.

you stared at barry, tears welling in your eyes. he frowned at your condition, "poor girl, i'm sorry you're in the middle of this, but i'm not letting rafe get away with robbing me." you gasp for air, "please don't kill me." he sighed, bending down in front of your chair, he moved your hair out of your face. "i'm not going to hurt you sweetheart. i know its dramatic, but you won't be harmed," he smirks to himself, "how about you help me?" your face contorts into confusion, "how?" you look away. "how much does rafe care about you?" you sigh, unsure of how to respond. "tell me or there will be issues. i said i wouldn't kill you, but that's only if you cooperate with me."

"he said before that he loves me, he wants us to date, but when i asked him, he told me he had bigger stuff on his plate. he wouldn't have time for me. after that, it became weird..." your voice trails off, he hums in response. "i see, so he loves you, but he's worried he'll corrupt you." you nod slightly. "you're the only girl in his life, yeah?" you shrug, "yeah, but even then, he won't date me." this causes a smirk to hang on barry's lips. "what if we got back at him? he dragged you along, and he stole my money. what if we worked together?" the thought of backstabbing rafe made you nauseous. barry could tell you were reluctant. "do it or i will make sure he'll never be able to find you again, you'll be deep in the ocean with no chance of being discovered." his words terrified you, "okay, okay. just tell me what to do." he hands you your phone. "you're gonna call him. tell him you're okay. say that i let you go, out of the kindness of my heart." you nod sheepishly. dialing his number, rafe immediately picks up.

"are you okay? what's going on?" you sigh, "i'm okay, he let me go." your words shock rafe, he's silent. "i don't know, he just let me go out of the kindness of his heart. i'm okay." he's relieved, but he's aware that he still had a lot of cash he needed before he could make it right. "can we meet?" he asks. you look up at barry and he shakes his head no. "uh maybe in a bit. i'm a little shaken up. i want to shower and have some time y'know?" you explain. "i understand, just call me whenever you're ready, okay?" you smile softly, "of course, goodbye." you hang up, barry claps. "very good performance, i even believed it."

"what's your plan?" he grins happy you asked. "you're gonna be my girlfriend. you're gonna stay here with me, help me bag up the drugs, count cash, and when rafe decides to return the money, he'll see you here with me. we will kiss or whatever, and you're going to tell him that you saw the good in me. that you fell so hard at my words. rafe will realize he waited too long." while the idea of this was supposed to upset you, the thought of rafe seeing what he was missing out on, gave you a sort of edge. you thought that maybe you can come out of this with rafe announcing his love for you. "okay. will you drive me to mine? i want to change out of my greasy work clothes." he grins grabbing his keys, "of course baby." you narrowed your eyes at him, "just because were pretending to date doesn't mean you have to call me cute names." he chuckles, "we need to practice that way its convincing."

you sigh realizing how deep of a mess you were actually in. it made you feel better knowing that you weren't actually trying to do anything. you had to do this, barry had put your life on the line. if you didn't obey his every order, you could find yourself tied back up in a chair. "okay. how will we make this convincing?" he chuckles, "itll be easy. we're gonna get you cleaned up, then i'm going to have rafe meet me here. he'll see you working for me and man he'll get so angry."

you nod, and he unties you from the chair. he leads you to his motorcycle, speeding off to your house. upon arrival, he allows you to go inside to change. “i’m coming with. no time for any games.” you scoff but head inside. he follows you to your room, you hop into the shower. barry looks around your room. seeing your decor, jewelry; and photos of you and friends. he quirks a small smile, barry was very impressed by himself. he figured this was probably his best idea yet. once out of the shower you change into shorts and a shirt. you hesitate when you saw your reflection in the mirror. you were terrified of what might happen.

“so, we need to wait a few days, make it seem like it has time to naturally develop, yknow?” you nod, “yeah that makes sense.” he holds his hand out. “i’m gonna need your phone.” you roll your eyes, “why?” he tsks, coming into your personal space. “because i don’t trust you.” he snatches your phone from you, drafting out a text for rafe. going to need some time, today was a lot. i’m sorry. he smiles, satisfied with the text, he sends it. your heart swells again, fear crowding your senses. “pack a bag.” you nod following his instructions.

“okay good.” he picks up your bag, “we’re going back to mine, i need some help.” you cowardly follow him out of your own house, getting back onto his motorcycle. your head was swarming, but you tried to clear it as best as you could. you arrived back at barry’s trailer, heading inside, he sets you up with a scale to help him measure out his drugs. you sigh but start to fill the baggies. “good, you work on this for a bit and i’ll be back later.” he speeds away, and you continue the task.

shortly after, you hear a motorcycle approaching. assuming it’s barry you don’t move, continuing so he doesn’t yell at you. after four loud bangs, you can hear rafe on the other side of the door. you nervously glance around. unfortunately, barry had your phone. despite how badly you wanted to open the door, you knew barry would freak out on you. rafe looks around his hands on his head. “yo i got your money, c'mon man.” barry pulls up, seeing rafe.

“what was that?” rafe suddenly turns around. “i have your cash.” barry, impressed by how quickly rafe managed to get the money, eagerly smirked. “alright come in, we gotta count it.” rafe shakes his head but follows inside. at first, he doesn’t notice you, already used to barry having guest over. barry plops the heavy bag onto the floor, pulling out the stacks of cash. “ooh this shit is nice.” rafe chuckles, “i follow through on my deals, so we good?” he looked over, realizing who was actually messing with his drugs. “what the fuck is she doing here?” you struggle to make eye contact with rafe, your heart hurting. “you told me he let you go?” you look down, staying silent. barry intervenes, “well girls like men who are up front about how they feel…” he chuckles darkly, “wait too long to express it and then you’ll lose em’. ain’t that right pretty girl?” you look up at barry, his eyes locked on yours. “yes that’s right.” rafe could feel his anger boiling over him. he couldn’t believe it. “you really like this fucking loser?” you stop weighing the drugs, finally managing to meet his gaze.

“she’s perfectly content with me country club.” rafe's hands form into a fist. “nah this isn’t right.” he walks closer to you, bending down. he gets onto your level. he stares at barry. “i need to hear it from her.” you swallow a deep gulp, rafe being close to you now. “tell me,” you glance between the two men in front of you. fear settling over you, unsure of what to do. on one hand you weren’t sure if barry was still intent on doing the jealousy gig, but you knew rafe was vulnerable and you couldn’t hurt his feelings.

looking at barry, he mouths a “tell him.” you nod, “look i know it’s really sudden rafe. and i’m really sorry…” your words sting his heart, and his face falls. he doesn’t say anything. “he is just really funny. and he’s sweet to me.” rafe chuckles, unable to control his venomous anger. “yeah and i wasn’t fucking sweet to you? i did everything for you.” you roll your eyes, getting into character. “you LIE. you were the reason i got kidnapped. you don’t tell me how you feel, but i’m just supposed to wait around until YOU feel like the timing is right?” his eyes zoned in on you, he looked you up and down, noticing the powder on your fingers.

he was stuck, he knew something was off. you’d never willingly mess around with drugs, and you definitely wouldn’t be slumming it with barry of all people. “what’s he got you into?” disgust forms on his face, he looks between the two of you, scoffing. you have nothing else to say, so you look at barry. he nods in approval, and you have to hold in a sigh of relief. “see? i keep her tamed.” your face twisted in confusion in a slight second, and rafe caught on. “are you done counting yet? or do you need me to do it for you?” barry laughs, “it’s all here. your debt is paid.” barry places the money back into the bag, “are we done here?” rafe looks at you one more time, “yeah we’re done here.”

without a second of hesitation, he leaves the trailer. his hands cover his face, trying to steady his breathing. he couldn’t fight the anger that was creeping in.

back in barry’s trailer, he’s laughing mischievously. “that went perfect.” you frown, “am i done?” he sighs, “what, are you not having any fun?” you look around, “no, i just am tired. i worked all day and i just want to go to bed. in my bed.” he thinks for a moment. “fine, i’ll take you to yours. get some beauty sleep, but you’re stuck with me for awhile. rafe was on an ego trip regardless. he needs this.” you smile. “thank you.” you grab your bag, and head outside. you see rafe standing against his bike. you glance at him frowning. you wish he could drive you back home.

at your house, barry allows you to have your phone back on the one condition; you wouldn’t rat out the plan to rafe. you agreed, thankful to be able to rest alone. today had been so exhausting. you change into pajamas, hopping into bed. you look at your phone, seeing the numerous missed texts and calls from rafe. you frown, you felt so lost.

after a few minutes of lying in bed, you hear the doorbell ring. you didn’t want to answer it, but you were the only one home at the moment. you head downstairs, opening the door. rafe stands before you, “can we talk?” you move out of the way and invite him inside. “yeah, of course.” he follows you up to your room. you sit on your bed, and he’s pacing your room back and forth.

“do you actually like barry?” you stand up grabbing him, and he settles down. “no, not at all. he told me i had to do this to get back at you or he’d kill me.” rafe stares directly into your eyes, he grabs your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. he pulls away gently, “i really love you.” he squeezes you tightly; “when i thought he got you… i wanted to kill him.” you place your hand on his cheek. “it hurt me so bad but i didn’t know what else to do.” he frowns at you, “it’s not your fault, i don’t blame you at all.” you pull him into a hug, and he squeezes you firmly, worried to lose you.

“he said we have to keep it going for a week or so.” rafe nods understandingly, “okay. are you willing to do that?” you look down, but he places a hand on your chin to make you look up at him again. “are you comfortable with that?” you close your eyes taking a deep breath, “no, but i have to be.” he groans, “this is all my fault. i’m so sorry.” you sit on the bed, and he joins you. “we’ll get through this. one week and then i’m all yours.” he places his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “i’ll be here to protect you.” you kiss him again, “that’s the only motivation i need rafe.” he grins. “if it gets too bad, i’ll fuck some shit up for you.” you nod, “thank you rafe.”

#rafe cameron x reader #fiction #writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron angsts #rafe cameron x plus!reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #barry x reader #barry obx

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imtryingbuck · 4 months ago

Text

Peanut

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky won’t be home tonight. He just hopes his girl knows how much he loves her.

Word count: 1,616

Warnings: angst. some more angst. death. swearing.

Masterlist

It wasn’t meant to be like this, it was meant to be a straight forward mission get in and get out that’s what Fury said, not with the majority of the team fighting with their bare fists against guns.

Bucky looked to his left after hearing Natasha cry out in pain, her hand going straight to her thigh where blood was seeping through the crevices of her fingers. Another deafening gunshot one after the other. He hears Sam groaning in pain as he crashed into the ground after he had been shot down.

The chaos surrounding him had his mind spiralling in confusion. He didn’t know who to go to save first. He didn’t know where Steve was. His right side was throbbing. He just wanted to go home to his love and cuddle up in bed whilst watching shitty tv programs with his fingers threading through her soft hair.

These agents weren’t backing down in the slightest, every time he blinked he swore that the number of said agents grew. Bucky heard Steve ordering the team to retreat Nat gave Bucky a confused look which he shrugged but complied with his best friends request.

“SHIELD agents are here” Steve panted down his comms trying to fight off his opponents.

With the extra back up they were now gaining the upper hand.

After what felt like hours but realistically was only twenty minutes tops all Hydra agents were down, those still breathing were being handcuffed and already being loaded on the jets.

As Natasha, Sam, Wanda were getting patched up Bucky, Steve and Tony made their way through the now destroyed base to look for what they originally came for. Steve eyed Bucky up and down noticing that his right hand was pressing down on his right side.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just a graze”

“That’s not just a graze tinman” Tony says also eyeing up Bucky’s side.

“I’m fine. Come on let’s get this done” Steve and Tony share a look of concern behind Bucky’s back watching the man starting to lean on his left side to make it easier for himself.

Just as Bucky turned the corner his foot stood on something making a beeping noise, looking down he swallowed. “Steve”

“What’s up?”

“C-can you go and get my phone off the jet”

“Huh? Why?” The blond looked at Tony who shrugged in response.

“Ju-just get me my phone please, please Steve”

“Okay-“

“I’ll get it Cap” Tony says before flying off to the jet. Steve made his way to where he knew Bucky had gone.

“Stop! Stop Steve”

“Buck what’s going on?”

“I-I’ve erm I’ve triggered a bomb I think” Bucky admits with his head downwards trying to find a wire in hopes that someone could deactivate the thing.

“Buck…”

“I know okay I know. I can’t find the wire but I-I know it’s bad alright”

Neither one of the super soldiers realise that the rest of the team including SHIELD agents could hear the conversation through their comms. Tony’s feet faltered when he was heading towards Bucky’s duffle. Nat squeezed Wanda’s hand, Sam closed his eyes and Steve looked around desperately hoping he could see a wire or something to deactivate the bomb he could see under his best friends boot.

Back at the shared home you shared with Bucky you was getting all the ingredients for Bucky’s favourite meal. The loud buzzing of your phone startled you from its place on the counter.

“Hey babe, you on your way home? I’m making your favourite dinner tonight, why? Because I love you. How was the mission? Everyone’s okay aren’t they? Buck?” You rambled, excited to talk to him, it wasn’t until you noticed that he was completely silent on the other end. You pulled your phone away from your ear and checked to see if the call dropped but it didn’t. “Buck?”

“Hi baby”

“Are you-“

“I love you, you know that don’t you?”

“I do, Buck wha-“

“I love you more than anything, please don’t ever forget that okay”

“Bucky what’s going on? Are you hurt? Is Steve with you? What-“

“Baby I-I’m not going to make it home tonight”

“No no no you are alright, don’t be silly babe. You’ll come home to me a-and I’ll take care of you and you’ll be okay-“

“Love, listen to me, I’m not, god I wish I was but it’s not happening b-but listen I love you a-and I love Peanut please tell them that, promise me that you’ll tell them, baby please”

Gasping for air as your airways started to close up you nodded completely forgetting he couldn’t see you, with a painful rasp you promised him that you would keep your promise.

The team shared glances at hearing Bucky’s mention of Peanut, unaware of what he was talking about. Due to Steve’s enhanced hearing his heart broke at hearing your voice sounding broken.

“I love you Y/n. I love you” Bucky repeated softly as the tears streamed down both of your faces.

“Steve?”

“I-I’m here mate”

“You need to get ev-everyone out of here, now. I-I can’t hold on any longer”

“B-Buck, Sam can get you out-“

“He can’t and you know it. It-it won’t work alright, no point in two families grieving. But Stevie you need to pro-promise that me that you’ll take care of Y/n, please I don’t want her to be left alone”

“Bucky if you hold on for five minutes Sam can get you out-“ Tony says as he tried to fix the right wing that had been damaged earlier that day.

“I don’t have five minutes. Okay I-I don’t have that alright, please you all need to leave”

“Buck-“

“Leave! Just get everyone out of here, please Steve”

“O-okay. Okay everyone get out, now.” The agents start leaving but the Avengers don’t. Tony was still trying to fix Sam’s wing, getting frustrated as the wires and pieces weren’t connecting properly, even Tony’s suit was too damaged to use. None of them wanted to leave him alone.

“Steve, it’s okay. It’s okay just promise to look after Y/n, you’ve only have a few minutes left to get out so please guys, just go.”

Reluctantly they do as he says, knowing that it was no use arguing with him. Both Sam and Tony have to drag Steve out as he refused to move, to leave him best friend to die.

“W-we’re outside Buck” Steve says through his comms, standing far enough away from the base he clinged onto Tony’s arm.

“Good. Baby are you still there? Hey, hey it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay I swear. I love you and Peanut so fucking much baby. I’m sorry princess, I really am. Baby? I have to go now alright, I love you” everyone bowed their heads at hearing Bucky’s words.

Bucky closes his eyes and smiles softly as the last image he’s ever going to see is of his greatest love. Slowly he moves his foot off the bomb.

Steve tried to keep up his promise but it wasn’t working as Y/n kept pushing him away. He understood that she was grieving but so was he but he also made a promise to his best friend. He couldn’t let Bucky down.

A month after that fateful day it was time to bury the remains of Bucky’s body. The team went back into the base after the smoke and fire cleared, all disobeying the direct orders from Fury, they refused to leave without Bucky. It wasn’t fair on him or on Y/n. For the first time in that month they had seen her, she didn’t answer their phone calls or answered the door when they went to the apartment she shared with Bucky.

As they stood by the side of the coffin watching as it went into the ground, Y/n looked up to the sky and smiled sadly. They all noticed her hand placement.

“Y/n, a-are you?” Steve asked.

“Four months, Buck wanted to tell you but I told him it was too soon. I-it was three months the day, that day, anyway that’s why he was retiring, he wanted to be there for Peanut” she said softly.

“H-he was retiring?”

“He gave Fury his notice, he only had a week left before he retired”

The news of hearing that he only had one week left made their stomachs hurt. He was so close to being free from fighting and raising a family with his love.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t apologise okay, I know he’s still here with us. Please don’t be strangers alright? I’ll see you around” Before they could reply she was already walking away from them.

As she gave birth she had Steve on one side and Wanda on the other, both ignoring the throbbing pain in their hands as she squeezed them.

“He’s gorgeous Y/n, what’s the little man’s name?” Nat asked as soon as they were allowed in the room to see the newest member of their family.

“Buck said if the baby was a boy he wanted him to be named after him so, James Stevie Barnes”

Nobody was aware that the Bucky was in the room, he stood at the bottom of the bed watching with admiration in his eyes at his love with her arms around their son. His arm on the shoulder of his mom Winnie. The two stood there long after everyone had left, Y/n and baby James had gone to sleep.

Placing a kiss to his son’s head he told him that he would always watch over him. Moving to the bed he did the same to Y/n.

“I love you both forever”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

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bkglovergirl · 7 months ago

Text

♡𓂃Water guns

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲Aizawa gives you and katsuki a second chance and with that it leads to a downward spiral of things.

Word count; 4.4k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“I’m giving you two a second chance.” Aizawa is in front of you and Katsuki, holding your hero suits. Katsuki had gone to Aizawa privately and asked for the second scenario, claiming he trusted you and that this whole situation wasn't on you. He threatened Aizawa not to tell you he went to him before Aizawa threw him out of the room. “A pair from class 1B is the villain. You won’t get to know who the pair is and this training is taken place in a facility outside of the school.” He tosses the cases at you. “Get changed and we’ll head over to the facility.”

All of class 1A steps off the bus. Everyone is here so Aizawa can prove a point. Mess up and ask for a chance. The entire class has to be behind for you guys to get that chance. You and Katsuki are in your suits and so is everyone else, Aizawa is not so mean and is letting others train if you and Katuski get this done quickly. This facility is owned by Endeavor, it has everything you can possibly imagine as he needed to be the best at this as well. You and Katsuki are set up in a house? “What the hell.” You look around. “Okay, we need to set up a plan. We have no idea who these people are and this domain.”

“Let’s just fuckin run out there!”

“No dumbass!” the peace that you and Katsuki created for a moment is shattered as you two bicker back and forth for God knows how long. “What’s that smell?” You look around frantically, have the “villains” already found you both? Do they have an advantage because of Aizawa that you don’t know about?

“Blue flames?” You look at Katsuki and follow his eyes. Blue flames are slowly swallowing the door. Smoke fills the room quickly, and you panic, having a coughing attack.

“Are they trying to kill us?! They are taking this way too seriously!” Katsuki grabs your hand and you quickly tighten your grip, He brings you up the stairs and breaks open a window. “We are not paying for that.” you joke but quickly shut up as bakugou lets go and jumps out the window. You look out, “What the hell?!”

“Jump!”

“No what the fuck!”

“Jump, I’ll catch you!” You jump, shut your eyes, and jump. He catches you. “Why are your eyes closed?” You look at him and laugh. “Y/N, you are so stupid.” He blushes.

“Ok put me down.” you look back at the house while he puts you down slowly, “Holy shit ten more seconds and we would have been flamed... Katsuki you don’t think…?”

“I don’t know, it’s Endeavor. This is a pretty good-built facility.” An alarm goes off and a big slamming sound is heard on the other side of the training area. “Fuck!” You both run quickly toward the sound before a wall of blue flames becomes between you and Katsuki. You look around frantically before seeing a man standing on top of a building. He has black hair and purple bruising all over his skin. Is he smiling at you? “Y/N?!”

“I’m okay!” the man laughs, jumping off the building and landing close to you. The blue flames start growing closer to you. He’s mumbling something along the lines of distracting you away from the rest, and this will be an easy kill. You take a deep breath and grow a longleaf pine under you and Katsuki, it brings you both up above the fire and lets you jump onto a building and you run. You see debris and smoke on the other side, it'll take under a minute to get there, “So close…” you mutter. A scorching burn rises up your arm. He got your right arm. You quickly wrap it in a longleaf pine, it won’t stop the pain but it will stop the fire. Your path gets blocked again by blue flames. “Fuck!” You are getting way too dehydrated and dizzy which means you are gonna struggle to use your quirk.

“Y/N!”

“Go help the others and then come get me!” Katsuki for the first time hesitates, and he doesn't like that. He listens to you and runs to the others, his heart beating faster than it ever has. Smoke fills your lungs, and you look around for the villain. He stands in front of you a couple of feet away with the same smile.

“I’ll make it easier on him and make sure there isn't anything he has to come back for.” Flames come your way, and you make a shield; it withers just a little enough to burn your cheek.

“Fuck.” you move and run. It’s just straight-up fire and smoke. It’s hurting your lungs. It’s hurting your plants which means you have a useless quirk. “I’m going to die…” You mutter. You are still running toward the group and you see Shoto in the distance. You see Katsuki behind him and smile before you feel a wave of heat. You don’t know what happened but you blacked out. Katsuki watches as flames engulf you. He freezes. He watches as Todoroki and Midoriya run towards you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

All you hear is beeping, talking, and silence. You can’t see anything, so all you can do is listen. You can’t understand the voices that come around every once in a while, it’s all blurry. Eventually, you open your eyes. “She’s Awake! Aizawa she’s awake!”

“Loud...” you mutter as your eyes get used to the bright light. Then, you see a blurry figure with green hair walks out of the room. You feel the warmth on your hand and you slowly look down. Your right arm is covered in bandages and someone is holding your hand. You look back up and see Shoto. He’s smiling at you softly, it looks like he hasn't slept in days. Midoriya walks back in with Aizawa and Katsuki. Katsuki walks up to you quickly, his face is flushed and he’s breathing heavily. He looks at you and Todoroki and stops moving. Aizawa walks up to you and sighs.

“It’s always something with you.” You let out a small laugh but stop quickly once it hurts. “Do you remember anything?” You look over your body. Your legs are also covered in bandages, and you can feel the uncomfortable bandages on your cheek and chest.

“The fight that happened today? Some um… Villains?” You feel Shoto squeeze your hand softly. “And I guess I got hit.”

“Y/N that attack happened over two weeks ago,” Aizawa admits. You notice all the boys look at you worriedly except for Katsuki, he’s looking down.

“What?” “You are correct you did get badly hurt, but that attack happened two weeks ago. Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki all have been taking turns watching over you and some of your classmates have been stopping by and also taking care of you. You kept stirring but… You never fully woke up. We got concerned you um… never would.” With that Aizawa brings his hand to his face and he continues to speak. “You have severe wounds. The ones on your cheek, chest, and arms will leave scaring. Your legs we aren't certain if they will yet.” He looks around at the boys and then looks back at you. “I’m happy you're safe. I’ll come back to check on you with the nurse later.” he walks out and you hear him sniffle. You smile and give your attention back to the boys. Midoriya is the first to speak.

“We were so worried about you… I thought… Never mind that!” he smiles. I should go tell the other!” He runs out. Shoto is next to speak, and unbeknownst to him, he had cut off Katsuki from speaking.

“I am so sorry. It’s all my fault. The villain that attacked you knows me and my family… and he got word of the training and you… with how close we are he figured you were an easy target… I am so sorry!” he slowly picks up your hand and kisses your knuckle then slowly rests his forehead on your hand. “Please forgive me. Please.”

“Of course Shoto…” You smile. “This isn't your fault, I don't blame you, and see I’m okay!” you regret raising your voice but whatever you have to do for Shoto. Shoto picks his head back up and gives you an unconvincing look. “Shoto please believe me. I am okay.” you both stare at each other before Shoto finally smiles. Katsuki coughs interrupting the moment. “Shoto you should go get some rest and food.” he goes to interject but you stop him, “Come visit me after but go take care of yourself please.” He nods and stands up. Walking out he gives a glare to Bakugou and exits the room. You look at Katsuki. He doesn't look at you. “So… guess I have to make up all the meals I couldn't make you the past two weeks.” You joke and laugh, He doesn't laugh and you sit up reaching for him.

“Stop doing that!” He gets close to you and grabs your hand, laying you back down. You look at him confused. “Stop acting like everything is perfectly fine! You almost died for fuck sake!” he sits down on the bed looking at you. “It’s not okay.”

“Katsuki…”

“I could have lost you then what?!” You winch and he slumps.

“I’m alive and awake now, so let’s not dwell on what could have happened, okay?” Katsuki stares at you, and your heart skips a beat. Slowly, he leans down and places his hand on the cheek that has the bandage. He rubs his thumb over it slowly before kissing you. You are surprised, obviously, but you kiss back. He’s just as surprised as you are with the fact he kissed you and the fact you kissed back. You go to sit up to lean into him more but winch from the pain, causing him to move away breaking the kiss. “Katsuki…”

“Guys, look!” Katsuki moves away from the bed completely, and the class piles into the room after Midoriya. You smile at them, and they smile at you. Katsuki leaves the room.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

After a few days, you are able to go back to the dorm room and go back to your normal life besides the obvious scaring on your body and the sharp pain you get sometimes. Shoto helped you get back into your dorm. “I can open the door myself, you weirdo.”

“Why won’t you let me help you.” He opens the door.

“Because if you are going to help me, I’ll complain to feel less guilty.” You smile before laughing. You walk into your dorm, and he follows. Katsuki is sitting on the couch, looking at you both. His arms are crossed. “God, Dad, he brought me home on time.” You joke, but clearly, he could care less about your jokes. Shoto doesn't get the hint of Katsuki’s annoyance and walks into your kitchen.

“What do you want? I’ll make you lunch.”

“I can make her lunch. I am her husband after all.” He stands up.

“A good husband would already have food ready for her and would have gotten her from the nurse's room.” Katsuki pauses for a moment. He’s stunned. “So Y/N what would you want?” you look between Shoto and Katsuki before walking into the kitchen. Katsuki takes that as you choosing Shoto and his throat burns and his stomach nots. He’s fuming and all he can manage is walking into his room and slamming the door. “Such a baby.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

It’s like Todoroki is doing this on purpose. For the past week he’s done nothing but be a wedge between him and you and it’s pissing Katsuki off. He’s trying to do this for you but Todoroki is always just one step ahead. Katsuki is known to be angry the majority of the time but this feels different. It fueling each minute and he feels like he’s about to burst. He tries taking it out during training but it eases only for a second and this confuses Katsuki. In the past it’s always worked for him so why the fuck isn't it working now?! He grabs his towel and wipes his face before getting himself a sip of water. He takes a deep breath. Why isn't this working? He hears a familiar laugh and looks around. He sees you and of fucking course Todo fucking roki. He puts down his water bottle and towel. He rushes out of the training room and goes up to you both. “The fuck are you guys doing together? Again.” You go to explain but Shoto stops you. Katsuki doesn't like this very much.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because it fucking does?!” Seriously who does this dude think he is? “Why can’t you go bother your own wife and leave mine the fuck alone?!”

“Why should I leave her alone? All the times you've left her alone it causes her to be endangered.”

“So it’s my fault?!”

“You didn't get to her quick enough during our training.” Todroki points a finger at him, “And your dumbass left her during the attack so she got hurt!”

“Don’t point that finger at me! It was your dumbass family drama that caused her to get hurt in the first damn place!” With this Todoroki steps closer to him and his fire quirk is activated.

“Say’s the one who froze when we needed to go save her.” You look at Katsuki. Katsuki doesn't look at you. For the first time, Katsuki bites his cheek and walks back into the training room. With a satisfied smirk, Shoto looks at you. Your arms are crossed and you are pissed looking back at Shoto. His smirk drops. “What?” you shake your head and walk away. “What?!”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

It’s late. You've already made dinner, and it’s starting to get cold. Shoto had brought you to the dorm against your wishes, and you slammed the door in his face in retaliation. Your guess is that Katsuki is still in the training room. You sigh, looking down at his dinner, before grabbing a blanket from the living room and walking out onto the balcony. You don’t know how much time has passed but it is quiet and the only lights outside are the streetlights. “What are you doing outside?” You flinch and look at Katsuki, he’s leaning against the door.

“It’s nice out.”

‘The heat is on and you left the door open.” You roll your eyes and look away from him.

“I left your food on the counter.”

“Thanks.” He walks off into his bedroom, completely ignoring the food. Confused, you stand up and walk towards his bedroom, stopping him from shutting his door.

“Excuse me?”

“You left the blanket outside and the door open.”

“Don’t ignore the obvious bullshit dude.” He just stares at you. “What is with you?! I made you dinner and you are just gonna ignore it?!”

“I’m sorry I thought you would have preferred making that shit for Shoto.” He mocks his name and you glare at him.

“So what I do for you has been shit?” He shrugs and you drop your hand from off the door. “Whatever. I don’t know what your fucking issue is but glad to know everything I have done has been pointless.”

“Oh please we all know you wanted those points to switch and be with Todoroki.”

“Are you for real right now? All my actions have shown that's what I want?! Really?!”

“Yeah. Really.” He shuts the door in your face. You stand there astonished before cleaning up Katsuki’s dinner and putting it away in the fridge. You try to convince yourself you are only doing it to prevent food from going to waste, but the convincing doesn't work. Despite how mad you are, you want to make sure he eats okay.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

For days, you and Katsuki have ignored each other. People have asked each of you, and you respectfully shake your head no and say it’s nothing. Katsuki, on the other hand, gives them death glares. You still make food for him, and it'll go uneaten. When you give up hope that he won't eat, he eventually does, so you keep making him food. You always wondered how your family ignored each other when growing up and you never understood how they could do it so easily. You understand to an extent, that the act of ignoring each other isn't an issue. Katsuki does most of the work fully pretending you aren't even real. The mental pain of ignoring each other is affecting you more than you like and Katsuki feels the same.

Two weeks pass, and it’s the fireworks festival. The school does this annually, putting on a grand display and making it a whole day thing. You and the girls are in Momo’s room getting ready. The girls have really been helping you during this whole situation and the bond you share now is something so important to you. “We are gonna make you look stunning Y/N! We can use all my stuff. Yes, even the very expensive stuff of course!”

“Thanks, Momo but why would I do this for a guy who won’t even glance at me?”

“Oh, honey, this is NOT for him; it’s for you, silly!” The girls continue getting you ready. Kyoka and Ochaco work on your makeup, Mina on your hair, and Momo on the best outfit for you to wear. After a few hours, you are ready! The girls start taking pictures and start giving you compliments and in all honesty, you just wanted to go to the festival already.

“Is he gonna be there?”

“Who cares?” You did. Except you weren't going to say that. You walk up to the full-length mirror and look at yourself.

“Do I even look good with this scar on my arm?” You’ve fully healed over the past few weeks thanks to recovery, girl, but your right arm has scarring, and you've been slightly insecure about it. Doesn't help that the outfit you are wearing shows it off completely

“It makes you look sexy!”

“Whatever you say, Mina.” You smile, “should we get going?”

The weather is perfect, to say the least. The school has rented out a nice park, full of flowers and trees, right next to a river, where on the other side, they’ll light the fireworks. Booths are set up for food, drinks, and fun things to do. You and the girls are going back and forth on what to do first. You watch as a few say drinks and food while others say games first. You just watch not having a strong opinion for each until someone catches your eye. Behind Momo you see Shoto waving at you, and you smile waving back. He walks towards you but halfway someone shoves into him. Katsuki keeps walking not even acknowledging what he did. “Hi Y/N.”

“Hi, Shoto.” Just like how Katsuki ignores you, Shoto chooses to ignore his existence.

“Oh hey, Todoroki! Are you here with anyone?” Ochaco asks as the girls look at him.

“No.”

“I have a great idea!” This could be true or the worst thing Mina says. “We should go to one of the games, and Todoroki and Momo can battle to see who the better spouse is!”

“That’s actually not a bad idea and would be fun to watch,” Kyoka says.

“You down for joining us Shoto?” You look at him and he looks away from Momo and looks at you.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t go easy on me.” Momo smiles at him.

“Don’t plan on it and you should pick the game.” You walk over to Ochaco and wrap your arms around hers, you guys start walking around to find a game. Momo eventually settles on ring toss, you sit down at the water gun booth to watch them. Momo and Shoto stand next to eachother with five rings each. The first round starts and of course Momo wins. “Another one.”

“Shoto we are not gonna sit here and watch until you win.”

“Yes we are Y/N shush.” And the second round starts, this time the bottles move side to side making it more difficult. You feel the presence of someone sit next to you, You ignore it at first before you hear a grumble. You look back to see a random student with his friend, you stand up quickly and apologize for being in his way.

“Don’t take up a spot if you arent gonna do anything.”

“She was waiting for me, so you gotta move it.” Katsuki puts an arm around you and you look over at the group seeing if anyone notices. You lock eyes with Ochaco and she gives you a thumbs up. The boys apologize and run off not wanting to deal with Katsuki. You take a seat again and Katsuki hands money to the stall worker and sits next to you. “One game, one winner.” you face your water gun rolling your eyes.

“Whatever you say.” It was not one game, it was six and the group stopped watching Shoto’s game and huddled around you guys. “What happened to one game!”

“You keep cheating!”

“How?”

“You keep shooting me with water!” You laugh.

“FUCK!” Katsuki slumps back, you stand up ad cheer. You turn to Shoto giving him a high five and turn back to Katsuki. He stares for a beat then stands up and walks off.

“What is his problem?” Mina asks, you shake your head.

“I don’t know but let’s go find Izuku.” The hours pass and for others it went by very quickly but for you it didnt. The whole time you spent looking around for Katsuki and you couldnt find him.

“Hurry up lets go find the perfect spot!” The fireworks start in fifteen and honestly you werent feeling it anymore.

“I think I’m just gonna go back to the dorm guys..” you were met with a lot of disergrement.

“Are you sure Y/N?”

“Yeah I’m not feeling well.” You lie.

“Oh let me walk you back.” Shoto goes to grab your arm but you step back, “No it’s okay. Stay.” You give them all a smile, say your goodbyes and walk back.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“Katsuki?” Nothing. You sigh and shut your dorm door. Luckly for you, your dorm faces right where they are gonna be setting off fireworks. You brush out your hair and walk to your balcony. “Cold…” you mumble shutting the sliding door and resting your body on the railing. You do the math in your head, it took you five minutes to get back here so that means itll be about ten minutes until they start. After some time you hear the sliding door open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I can’t be in my own dorm now?”

“You should be out with your friends at the festival, not here.” You don’t say anything and Katsuki stands next to you, You glance at him.

“Why are you shirtless?”

“Because my wife wouldnt stop splashing me with water.”

“Stop Katsuki. I’m over this back and forth of you being mad and then not.”

“And I’m over Todoroki getting all your fucking attention. Piece it togehter Y/N.” You look at him fully.

“Me piece it together? I shouldnt have to do that? Why can’t you tell me straight up? You are so bold and loud but for some reason between us you shut down completely. It’s ridiculous.”

“Have you ever thought for one second why?”

“You rejected me Katsuki. In middle school, it was a full on embarrassment. Sorry I wasnt jumping to conclusions.”

“We were in middle school.”

“You made fucking rules when I tried getting you to take this simulation seriously.”

“Why’d you smile at Todoroki. You face him fully.

“What the fuck are you on about.” He faces you, he is red.

“During the Villian attack when you were close to the main group, you saw Todoroki and instantly smiled once you saw him.”

“No I didnt?” You crossed your arms. Katsuki puts one hand on the railing and squeezes it.

“Yes you did Y/N I watched you.”

“I smiled because I saw you.” his hand untenses.

“Yes Dumbass, I smiled because I saw you before I almost got killed by flames.” His hand tightens again. “What?” he stays silent so you repeat yourself again. “What?”

“For the first time I hesitated in battle.”

“So?”

“Because I thought I…” he pauses and looks down. “I thought I just watched you die and I couldn't, my brain couldnt comprehend it. For a split second all logic was out the window.”

“Where you ignoring me because of that?”

“I was ashamed.” He looks back up at you. “There goes fucking Todoroki and Deku running and there I was, frozen. Even if it was only for a second. It was a second to long. I don’t like what you do to me.” A boom goes off and the fireworks start up. The sky is full of assortment of colors. You and Katsuki both look. “I love you Y/N.” He says it not thinking you’d hear him and after this whole thing he can go back into the ignoring routine you guys established.

“I love you too.” Katsuki looks at you and you don’t look at him. He grabs your right arm and stops his movement. He stares at the scarring on your arm. You look at him before removing your arm from his hand and hug him. He squeezes you tightly before letting go and facing the railing. “You ignore me like that again and I’ll kill you.” He hugs you from behind.

“Mhm..”

“I’m serious Katsuki.” He kisses your cheek. “Fuck these fireworks.” You turn your body to face katsuki and look up at him, He looks down at you. “Kiss me.” He stares at you for a minute. “Katsuki I swear-” He cuts you off and kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck, and with that, he picks you up and sits you on the railing. You wrap your legs around his waist and deepen the kiss.

Tags;

@andysdrafts @eyesforbkg @kukikoooo @musicbecky @mia-luvs @yoyolovesdaiki @onlykarenkun @gina239

#bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski

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user211201 · 2 months ago

Text

I Was Just Being Ironic, Bro

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

That’s how it started, you see. With irony. With a joke. A joke Daniel made about grabbing em by the pussy. Jared said it was kinda offensive, man. Daniel doubled down, saying he was just being ironic, explaining how he’d never be that misogynist, obviously.

Jared did end up laughing, just not wanting to be rude more than anything. I mean, they were friends and obviously Daniel didn’t swing that way.

But one joke turned into another joke, days later. And another. And the ways things were spiraling, soon the two roommates – they lived in a shared house of four – were joking about it all the time. Pretending to be alt-right. Pretending because it was fun, it was funny, it was something to do, a way to make fun of guys who acted like that while simultaneously getting to feel what it was like to be that sort of guy themselves.

They were pretty regular guys. But it became funny to pretend they were jock studs, too. “I dare you to work out, bro,” Daniel goes one night. “I fucking dare you. If you can do 100 pushups consecutively, I’ll even let you grab me by the pussy,” Daniel goes, grabbing his own cock and balls through his shorts for emphasis, which wasn’t hard since he was freeballing that night.

“Oh yeah?” Jared said, “Watch this, bro.” He only made it to fifteen, laughing, but they kept up their dare. Jared was building some pipes on those arms. And months later, after a few shots of whiskey, he hit one hundred pushups for the first time in his life.

“Dude, if I’m gonna grab you by the pussy, I want to see you wearing those Old Glory shorts.” Yeah, the shorts Daniel bought to be ironic. Jared knew those.

And he did grab Daniel’s cock and balls through the shorts, holding onto them tight, laughing, squeezing. “Ouch, dude, that fuckin’ hurts,” Daniel said. It was hilarious. They were so drunk.

But then it was Jared’s turn to dare Daniel, saying he should get as pumped as he was, that is if he could ever catch up. “I’m working on 120 pushups, bro, and look at you. Fuckin’ puny. Little Daniel. I dare you, bro. You can grab me by the pussy if you ever catch up.”

Daniel wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. And soon his guns were just as big, if not bigger. Their jokes were becoming almost infamous in the house.

“Drop and give me 20, Daniel. ‘Merica!” “Come on, tiny hands, let’s see if you can beat me at arm-wrestling.” “Aww, so hot, bro. You and that MAGA cap. I bet you’ll be able to score all the pussy you want if you wear that out to the bars.” “Lock her up, lock her up!” Daniel said to Jared when he was drunk off his ass, trying to tie him to his chair with rope. The guys loved horsing around.

Jared and Daniel both had American flag shorts, now. They had flag tank tops, t-shirts, hats, even MAGA caps. They were getting to be pretty buff guys. Acting like right-wing jockbros had been ironic, but now they looked pretty convincing in the part after working out so much and buying the gear they bought. Vocal inflections, ironic at first, now sounded more and more legit as they got their impersonations down pat. Sometimes they’d go out and hit the bars, ham it up, see who they fooled, which was pretty much everybody.

They were good at this. It was fucking funny and fun as hell.

Drunk one night, Daniel found himself confessing to Jared that he thinks it’s really hot when Jared acts like a MAGA guy. “Yeah bro?” Jared said, “I think it’s hot too. Makes me feel hot. It’s like everything I secretly want to be when I’m like this.”

“Yeah bro?” Daniel said, “I think that’s so fucking hot, man. You look great as one of those guys. I almost feel like I could grab you by the pussy for real, bro.”

“Why don’t you do it then, bro,” Jared said, “When we’re home. I fucking dare you, bro. Get those tiny hands on this big cock of mine. Bet you don’t have the balls.”

But turned out Daniel did have the balls, and when he took Jared’s cock in his mouth behind that locked bedroom door, all Jared could say was, “Fuck, bro. MAGA, bro. That’s so fuckin’ hot, bro,” before he came, five minutes later, flooding Daniel’s mouth with white hot cum.

#frat bro #liberal to conservative #alpha #masculinization #straight to gay

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thewulf · 2 years ago

Text

Cross || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: The four times you captured Jake Seresin’s attention and the one time he did something about it.

A/N: A request from a friend. Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 6,500+

TW: Abuse (Physical)

One

From an early age you learned how to sit down, shut up and do what you were told. Growing up on the south side of Chicago didn’t bode well for the greatest childhood. Your parents, if you could even call them that, gave you a shelter and sometimes some food but other than that? You were on your own from a very early age with your older brothers. Who quite frankly didn’t give a shit about you either.

You wished and prayed that your parents would snap out of it and start taking care of their children, but they never did. You gave up praying on your eighth birthday when your mom picked the pills over her own babies. Classic drug addicts. You gave up trying to form a relationship on your tenth birthday when you had to call an ambulance because your dad was unresponsive. He lived, somehow.

Things often got violent in the household. You learned how to protect yourself, learning how to fight back against two methed out parents by the age of twelve. Realizing quickly you had to learn how to defend yourself or you’d likely end up dead. You did just that. You wished your parents were alcoholics like every other parent on the south side. But no, they had to be hard drug users. They were so terribly unpredictable. Sometimes they’d treat you like gold but the very next day you could be getting beat on, you just never knew. You had to be ready at all times. It was exhausting being in constant fight or flight mode.

On your eighteenth birthday you left without saying a word. You didn’t have a plan nor a cent to your name but you sure were scrappy. You’d found weird jobs across the country for a few years before landing in San Diego and meeting Penny Benjamin.

You liked to think Penny saved your life from spiraling even further than it had. She was desperate for a bartender, and you were desperate for a stable job. You ended up falling in love with the job and the area. Most days were great, but some days were awful. And today? Today was one of those awful days.

“Hey sweetie, how about another beer?” A lovely patron of the Hard Deck clinked his empty beer glass against the wood countertop eyeing you up and down. Disgusting. You’d gotten used to brazen men checking you out, but it never ceased to amaze you just how gross they could get. Especially with a little beer in their system.

Rolling your eyes, you simply ignored him deciding to focus your attention elsewhere. Not giving the creepy old man who couldn’t seem to stop eye fucking you any satisfaction. You greeted a younger couple happily chatting away with them trying to ignore the creep as best as you could.

“Baby, I’m talking to you.” He yelled from across the bar interrupting you from the conversation. Penny gave you a look asking if you could handle it. You could. You dealt with these gross drunks all the time. It still didn’t make it pleasant though.

Giving her a quick nod, you turned back to the couple.

You were so tempted to ring that damn bell, but it was more effort than it was worth tonight. See, it was a Friday night at the hard deck and a bunch of Top Gun pilots were back making it even busier than you were used to. You didn’t have time to think let alone serve this entire bar another round. So, you decided against it instead finishing up the order you were already working on.

Once you finished serving the couple you turned your attention back to the man knowing you’d have to confront him eventually. You decided to serve everybody around him first making sure to pay him no attention.

“Baby is playing hard to get.”

Snapping your eyes up at him you swore your nostrils were flaring, “Don’t you fucking baby me.” You were tired. So damn tired of men thinking they could speak to you like you were nothing. Like your only purpose on this god forsaken planet is to serve them beer and look pretty.

“Feisty little one.” He winked as he slid his empty glass in front of you.

“Get the fuck out of this bar.” You stared at him with icy eyes. Any friendliness in your tone completely gone.

You noticed him pause at your words. Taking a second to see if you were being serious. It didn’t work though, he continued to press on, “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have a mouth like that.” He slurred his words this time.

“Get the fuck out. Now.” Nearly growling you turned away. You were far too busy to be dealing with this shit right now. Another bartender called off and it was just you and Penny trying to serve hundreds of impatient people.

You didn’t make it too far feeling a cold hand wrap around your wrist.

Fuck it. He started it.

Turning around quickly you made a fist out of your hand like it was second nature. Not putting much thought into it you used all your might as your hand collided with his right eye. He dropped to the floor almost instantly with a thud sending the bar into an almost eerie silence.

“Fuck.” You groaned shaking your wrist out. You had forgotten just how bad it hurt to make direct contact like that. Penny flew over to you making sure you were okay.

It suddenly hit you how silent the bar had gotten after you threw that nasty punch. Only hearing a few whistles from the aviators over in the corner who were all eagerly watching in anticipation. Looking up at them you saw them all nodding and smiling. Simply thrilled this had happened while they were there.

“You okay?” Penny asked as she wrapped some ice in a towel for you.

“Perfectly fine.” You smiled graciously accepting the ice. Your knuckles were already turning purple from the impact.

She leaned over the bar to assess the damage you had inflicted, “Damn girl. You knocked him out cold.” Penny gave you a wide eyed expression as she turned back to you.

Smiling awkwardly at the customers who were still a little shocked you decked someone right in the face, you mimicked Penny leaning over the bar taking a peek. Nodding to yourself you were quite proud of that hit. Not that you necessarily condoned violence but sometimes it was necessary, like right now.

Penny rang the bell trying to liven the crowd back up and trying to signal for the young pilots to come over, “Seresin! Fitch! Throw him out will you?” She yelled to the two closest aviators who couldn’t seem to get enough of what was going on.

“Yes ma’am.” The pretty blond pilot answered her grinning from ear to ear. He looked like he loved this shit. You’d never seen him before. You were sure you would’ve remembered that face. That smile.

“Thank you.” Penny smiled at him before turning back to you. Eyeing your hand, she looked at you curiously, “Can you still serve or …” She trailed off not sure what to say. It wasn’t that often that a young female bartender straight decked a customer and knocked him out cold. Of course, it was you who had to break the mold. It was always you doing something you shouldn’t have.

You weren’t a bad kid. Quite the opposite really. A bit naïve if anything, you simply wanted the best for everyone. But you also weren’t a pushover. You’d given him a few warnings and he was the one that touched you first. You felt every justification in knocking the old creep out.

You always seemed to end up in these situations though. Your trash life just seemed to follow you everywhere like a curse you couldn’t break.

Shaking your head you dropped the ice, “I’m good!”

“That was one hell of a punch.” The blond pilot spoke up drawing your eyes back towards his. Damn, he was pretty. He was even more handsome when he was a few feet from you.

“Thanks.” You laughed grabbing a glass to fill up with a draft, “Guess my dad was good for something.” Smiling brightly at him you attempted to crack a joke. It might’ve been a defense mechanism, but it was true. Your dad was a low life good for nothing fuck who would’ve sold you if he knew he could. He was far too dumb to pull anything like that off though.

His smile dropped slightly being a bit taken aback by your casual statement, “You otta teach our friend Bobby over there how to throw a punch.”

The other pilot laughed at the blonds remark as he began to pick up the unconscious man.

“I’m sure Bobby can throw a punch just fine.” You halfway returned the smile. He was trouble and you could sniff that out a mile away. Growing up like you did gave you a sort of superpower to sniff out bullshit. Being able to read people like a book surely had its advantages.

“I beg to differ.” He threw you a wink before helping his friend out. Taking a breath, you were sure this was just the first of many encounters with the blond pilot. You weren’t sure if that excited you or made you want to quit on the spot.

Two

The next few days had slowed down quite a bit at the Hard Deck. You sure did love the money you made on Friday, especially after throwing that punch, but you were thankful it was slower. Finally, being able to catch your breath after the busy weekend shift.

You were distracted serving a few customers at the bar or you would’ve seen the blonde pilot enter with a few friends. You didn’t see his face perking up ever so slightly when he saw you behind the bar. He considered himself increasingly intrigued by you. He had surely never seen any woman handle herself like that. He simply loved it.

Of course, he offered to get the first round. He wanted to talk to you, even for a moment. Payback and Coyote teased him before he walked over to you. The two of them noticed how he kept bringing you up in conversation even though he knew nothing about you.

“I have a nickname for you.” A silky smooth southern voice from behind you spoke up. Turning around you bit your cheek to hide the stupid smile that wanted to grace your face. There he was… trouble.

“And that is?”

“Cross.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“You’ve got an amazing cross shot.” He grinned before continuing, “And I wouldn’t want to cross you.”

“The punch, really?” You grabbed him a few domestics from the fridge sliding them over after popping the tops.

He shrugged taking a slow sip from the glass, “What can I say? It was hot.”

You laughed shaking your head, “Noted…” You trailed off waiting for him to properly introduce himself.

“Hangman.”

“I’m not calling you Hangman. I’m Y/N.” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a rag wiping down the counter next to him. Making sure to do anything to avoid eye contact with the pretty man.

“And why not? That’s a beautiful name, Y/N.”

“It’s weird.” You rebutted almost instantly ignoring his second comment. Terribly flirty this man was.

This time he let out a hearty laugh. He was enjoying himself all too much. The effortless back and forth between the two of you made him giddy. He could see how sharp you were, how witty you are.

“It’s not weird if I give you permission.”

You continued to clean, “I don’t need your permission. It’s still weird.”

He didn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, “Call me Jake then. I’m still calling you Cross though.”

You looked up to him now, “And if I don’t give you permission?”

“Like you said, I don’t need it.” He countered using your own words against you.

“Fair.” You narrowed your eyes in on him. He got you there, you couldn’t deny that one.

“So, where are you from doll?” You knew he was just being polite, no ill will towards the term of endearment. But you hated it. Your childhood really truly traumatized you. When you were far too young you’d have men catcalling you on the streets calling you sugar, sweetie, honey, or baby. It made your skin crawl. You hated that simple terms of endearment were traumatizing to you. Those sweet nothings were taken from you. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Don’t call me that.” You harshly spoke back to him. Your eyes softened seeing his confused expression, “Please.” You added trying to soften the blow.

“I thought I didn’t need permission.” He smirked, testing your boundaries.

You bit your lip thinking hard about how you wanted to respond to him, “Please.” You smiled softly, opting to go the easiest route of begging him not to.

He nodded sharply understanding your near desperation in your ask. Taking another long sip of the beer he hesitated to leave even though his fellow aviators were so patiently waiting on their own.

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled before sauntering off back towards the pool table.

You spent your night relatively busy as the Hard Deck picked up. Sending glances Jake’s way, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself from looking at him. Maybe it was the way he presented himself so surely, but no man had ever treated you with the respect he had already shown.

The bar was literally in hell, yes, but here you were also intrigued with the pretty blond pilot.

Three

It had not been a good few days. Your piece of shit ex-boyfriend had shown up at your doorstep begging you to forgive him. You had called off the shitty relationship a month ago after you caught him cheating. Trash life, trash men.

You really did think he was different until you walked in on him hooking up with a neighbor.

Long story short he wouldn’t leave. The cops had to come. Once they left he had decorated your cheek with a nice little back slap which split your lip right open. He ended up leaving after telling you just how worthless he thought you were.

You sat there crying to yourself wondering why you couldn’t get out of this shitty spiral that your life always seemed to be in. You’d escaped Chicago just to end up in the same situation that you’d grown accustomed to. Being abused by the people that should love you.

You told Penny the truth, not wanting to lie to her. Sure, she was your boss, but she was also one of your better friends here. The two of you got along like peas in a pod and you sure did suffer through enough long nights at the bar together.

She let you take the night off, understanding you would likely not be up for it.

However, she did invite you down to the beach the next day. She mentioned that shirtless pilots running around playing football might cheer you up. Not being one to pass up on such an opportunity you sped on down to the beach sitting next to Penny just outside the Hard Deck.

“Damn. You were right Penny.” You whistled lowly admiring the scene before you, “This really does help.”

She was smiling until she saw your lip, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle. Just caught me by surprise is all.”

She was frowning now, “Did he do that before?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Shrugging you smiled as you found Jake in the swarm of men. Damn, he looked even better shirtless. That just wasn’t fair.

“I’m used to it Penny. Can’t seem to escape it.” You laughed softly accepting your fate. It’s all you really could do. Laugh. What else could you do?

She shook her head, “Don’t say that Y/N. Nobody deserves that.”

“Sure.” You smiled towards her trying to comfort her more than yourself. She looked so worried for you.

She broke the eye contact the two of you were holding first, “Looks like you’ve got a visitor. I need to talk to Pete anyway.” She laughed after seeing your shocked expression. She was just up and leaving you to deal with the handsome stranger?

He immediately noticed your bruised cheek and busted lip. Making sure to brush the frown away quickly he plopped down next to you. Closer than you would’ve, not that you were complaining.

“Another fight there Cross?” Jake grinned hoping to extract something from the closed book that you were.

Huffing to yourself you looked up to him, “Something like that.” You kept it vague as you turned your attention to the waves rolling before you. That’s what you loved about this place. You lived mere minutes from the beach.

He nudged you with his shoulder, “Should I see the other guy?”

Blinking rapidly, you kept your attention away from him suddenly feeling awfully vulnerable as he kept his attention trained on you, “Yeah.” You whispered

“You okay?” He mimicked your whisper. Almost afraid he might spook you if he spoke too loudly.

That question knocked you back into reality, “I’m perfectly fine Jake.” You flashed him your most genuine smile careful not to bust open your lip again. You had finally gotten it to stop bleeding.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You returned his question with one of your own.

“You seem a little spacey and you have a split lip. Just checking that’s all.” Throwing his hands up in defense he refused to look away. He kept his eyes trained on your face.

You were quickly becoming an enigma to him. The two of you seemed to talk frequently but he didn’t know a damn thing about you. He knew your first name and that you bartended at the Hard Deck. That’s all he could seem to get out of you.

You nodded along noticing how defensive you had become, “Volleyball accident. Took a hit right to the chin.” Lying as casually as you could you found the courage to look back over to him.

He clearly didn’t believe you eyeing you curiously, “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. So be it I guess.”

You frowned knowing he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. He was just too confrontational, “Well, it’s the story so.”

“Bullshit.” He countered clearly ready to get into whatever this situation was.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your body away from him slightly. He was annoying. You really didn’t want anybody digging into your life. It was already embarrassing enough to come from where you did. Having to explain that to Jake sounded downright mortifying.

“Does it matter?” You replied refusing to look at him.

He scoffed this time not sure how you weren’t understanding him, “Yes it matters Y/N. Of course, it matters.”

“I slipped in the shower.” You attempted to lie again.

“Why are you lying?” He too seemed to have a mega bullshit detector just like you.

You shrugged, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

He frowned seeing you look so utterly defeated, “Are you at least safe?”

“I think so.”

His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head now. He couldn’t understand you. How you so utterly nonchalant about whatever situation you were in he couldn’t grasp, “You think?”

Nodding your head you turned back to him, “I should be fine. I can handle him.”

“Him?” He jumped from his seat standing in front of placing his hands gently on your shoulders. You really hadn’t meant to let that one slip, but it was far too late to try and backtrack now.

Sighing you looked up to him, “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m safe. I can handle it.”

Narrowing his eyes in on you it didn’t look like he quite believed you. But what could he do? He didn’t know you and you sure weren’t planning on sharing, “Are you sure.”

You nodded, “Quite.”

He dropped his hands from your shoulders, “Alright. I should get back?” He pointed to the group almost questioning if he should go or not.

You smiled, “Sure. I’ll see you around Jake.”

“You sure will.” He winked before jogging off back to the group of aviators not able to shake the sinking feeling he had in his gut.

Four

You were in fact able to handle him the second time around. It did come at a cost though. A pretty black eye, a bruised rib and a potentially sprained wrist didn’t stop you from putting him in his place.

Completely forgetting to lock the deadbolt he was able to get in with a copy of your housekey.

The sheer rage your ex had laced in his eyes eerily reminded you of your parents when they were cracked out of their minds. Shuddering at the thought you were able to get the upper hand. You didn’t think he’d be so brazen but then again you couldn’t tell if he was high out of his mind or not.’

Of course, you realized he was a shitty dude at the end of the relationship, but this was completely out of the ordinary from him. He hadn’t laid a hand on you prior to smacking you across the face. But now? The look of sheer rage horrified you, looking like he wanted to seriously hurt you.

Being terribly confused by the whole situation didn’t help either. You just couldn’t understand why he wanted to hurt you. Why he couldn’t have just left the relationship and moved on? He was the one that cheated anyway. It’s not the two of you were terribly in love either. You were only together for a few months. You simply just chalked it up to having the world’s worst luck.

After forcing him out by hitting him with a frying pan a few times you ended up calling the cops, unsure of what to do. They weren’t much help, telling you to find a different place to stay and they’d start a document for a restraining order. It was all bullshit, and you knew it. It wasn’t worth the cost to follow through.

Deciding to call Penny instead of risking staying in the house she let you come sleep on the couch at her place. She let the small gasp come out when she saw your state. You groaned realizing just how bad you probably looked. But true to your words you didn’t really feel that bad. You were used to being roughed up.

She got you some ice for your eye and wrist letting you pick out a movie as she did so. You settled on Step Brothers hoping to take your mind off of everything.

“Thanks Penny.” You yawned beginning to feel exhaustion creep up over you.

“Anytime kid. Get some sleep kid.” She patted your head before departing to her room upstairs. You snuggled in hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep.

Penny let you stay there that day as you searched for new locks, knowing you couldn’t go back until those were changed. She also let you skip your shift that night much to Jake’s dissatisfaction. He was really looking forward to seeing you, you always worked on Thursday’s.

Penny may have let it slip that you were staying at her place just up the road and that you were ‘sick’ after Jake complained that you weren’t there.

Immediately understanding what she was putting down Jake grabbed his keys and walked out of the bar. Shooting a text to his friends letting them know he’d be right back. But he needed to see you, make sure that you were okay.

Softly knocking on Penny’s door, he anxiously waited for you to answer.

You took a peek out the window cursing when you saw Jake standing there. Your face looked even worse than yesterday but there wasn’t enough time to try and hide it.

Sighing you opted to just open the door.

“Jesus Christ Y/N.” Jake frowned examining your black eye and bruised nose.

You smiled softly, “You should see the other guy.”

He grumbled not taking his eyes off your broken face, “Not really a time for jokes Y/N.”

“It’s always time for joking Jake.” You countered knowing it’d drive him mad. Something you enjoyed doing all too much as of late. The simple back and forth the two of you had grown accustomed to gave you so much joy throughout your stay in San Diego.

“Are you okay?” He pushed you back out of the doorway with his own body, inviting himself right on in.

“What are you doing here?” You asked after moving out of his way, not protesting in the slightest.

“I’m checking in.” He gave you the most obvious look, as if it was clear what he was doing here, “Penny told me what happened.”

“That little snake.”

“Well to be fair she just said you were sick. I kind of just assumed after seeing you a few days ago.” He frowned again grabbing some more ice from the freezer for you, “You need to keep ice on it.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded taking the ice pack from him gingerly knowing he was entirely right.

“What? No witty remark? No comeback?”

You giggled for the first time in a while. Feeling lighter and freer with the man standing in front of you. Having an odd sense of trust in him, “No. I don’t argue everything Jake.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He smiled before guiding you to the couch wanting you to sit down.

Obliging you took a seat at one end, “Pot calling the kettle black.”

He laughed taking a seat at the opposite end, giving you some needed space, “But seriously, are you alright.”

You nodded, “I’m fine. Just need to change my locks and then I’m good.”

“You said that last time.” He deadpanned.

“I was being serious earlier. He took a cast iron pan to the forehead, multiple times. I think he’ll think twice.” You smiled remembering your victory over the weak man.

He looked you over while he nodded, somewhat impressed, “Can’t be too careful though.” He studied you yet again not being able to hide his upset expression. He really couldn’t believe that somebody would ever dare lay a hand on you let alone leave such a mark on your eye. He might’ve only known you for a brief time, but he felt protective over you. So oddly protective.

You shrugged, “I’ll sleep with my pan at night.”

He laughed taking you in. He was fully enamored with you now. How you could make such light out of the seriousness of the situation and manage to calm him down was something magical. Truly unlike anyone he’d ever met, “That’s a start. I’ll tell you what. I have the day off tomorrow, why don’t I help you change those locks then?”

You smiled nodding at him, “I’ll happily take some help.”

“Great.” He smiled, “10 AM work?”

You nodded feeling a burst of excitement at the prospect of Jake helping you out, “Works great.”

“Perfect, see you then. Gotta get back to the bar though, just wanted to check in. Have to go beat Rooster’s ass in a round of darks”

Nodding you didn’t stop the smile that come over you, “See you tomorrow Jake.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night.”

Five

Another busy night at the Hard Deck had you focusing on everything but watching the front door. After changing your locks your ex didn’t attempt anything, thankfully. You thought he had gotten the hint. Being terribly nervous about the whole situation had you on edge, head on a swivel at all times.

Your heart dropped when you heard that voice from behind you, sitting at the bar as if nothing had happened between the two of you, “Baby, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Gulping you refused to turn around instead searching for Penny. But just as you looked up you saw her run off to the back. Sighing you opted to simply keep serving the guests on the opposite side of the bar instead of confronting him. You had the advantage of the bar being particularly busy this night.

“Y/N.” You heard your name called sharply from behind you.

“I’m busy.” You shouted still refusing to turn around moving on to the next customer.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer though. He simply just moved around the bar, dodging, and weaving in between everyone making sure he was in your line of sight. When you saw what he was doing you simply turned around to serve the other side of the bar. Simply not in the mood to indulge in whatever fantasy this dude has. You were prepared to avoid as long as needed.

“Y/N.” There it was again. That damn voice. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why he was not taking the hint.

“I said, I’m busy.” You snapped back focusing on washing the racks of dirty beer glasses in front of you

“You’re not getting rid of me like this, Y/N. We need to talk about this!”

Rolling your eyes, you kept moving down the bar, strategically avoiding him. The gull on the piece of shit was baffling to you. He was the one that cheated on you. You were pretty damn sure that wasn’t the first time either.

What you also didn’t notice was how Jake was observing you every now and then. Often doing so, he wanted to make sure that you were okay. He caught flack from his fellow aviators for treating you so differently, they didn’t have a clue though. Not a damn clue.

He noticed your relaxed and easy going attitude change drastically throughout the night. You were usually so cheery and happy to talk to people. Tonight, you looked agitated and a little stressed out. For the life of him Jake couldn’t pinpoint what was causing you to feel so distressed.

He didn’t want to bother you when you were so busy, so he hung back for a while. As soon as it began to die down though he found a barstool and waited patiently until you noticed him.

The utter relief you felt when you spotted Jake sitting there was unlike any other. Your ex was still at it getting rather agitated at you dodging him for the last two hours. Relaxing just a little when you spotted him you quickly walked over to where he was sitting, “Jake. What can I get for you?”

“The usual.” He grinned leaning towards you.

“Sure thing.” You returned his smile with a half-hearted one of your own.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you returned with his beer.

Nodding your head you leaned into the counter, “You ask that a lot.”

“You seem to get yourself into very precarious situations.”

Laughing at his comment you realized he didn’t know the half of it. He couldn’t understand because you refused to tell him, “I do, don’t I?”

“Yes ma’am. Now answer the question.” His eyes darkened over slightly letting you know he wasn’t playing around.

You shrugged, “I have a small issue.”

Eyebrows raised he was a little taken aback you were actually going to tell him something. Not that he didn’t enjoy the banter between the two of you, but this was different, more serious, “And what’s that?”

“Don’t look. But my ex is sitting on the opposite side of the bar right now. He’s been following me around all night.” Sighing you leaned in even closer, “I’m so sorry. He’s probably going to confront you now that I’ve been talking to you for more than a minute.”

Jake returned your shrug almost getting a kick out of it, “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you right now. Which one is he?”

Smiling softly at his bluntness you continued, “Red hoodie almost right behind me.”

The moment he spotted him Jake’s eyes darkened a few shades. His cheery smile with the dimples was immediately replaced with a straight line running across his face. If you didn’t know any better of him that look would have absolutely petrified you.

“Just keep your eyes on me Y/N.” Jake spoke quietly as he watched your ex eye you as you served customers.

Nodding softly, you kept your eyes trained near Jake not daring to serve that side of the bar. Another bartender noticed and kept that side locked down, “Thanks Jake.”

“Nothing to thank me for Y/N.” He gave you a serious look to let you know he wasn’t kidding. Jake could never accept a thank you for doing what he was raised to do, protect women. You couldn’t grow up in Texas and not think the world of all women. It always baffled Jake that other men didn’t think the same. That other men could even think of harming a woman.

Jake eventually caught the eye of your ex. He threw in a smirk for good measure. Jake made sure to look back to you to piss him off. And it worked. Almost instantly Jake noticed his red hoodie begin to walk around the bar. He knew this was going to be too good now.

“You fucking my girl?”

Jake grinned, loving every second of this, “Don’t think she’s your girl anymore.”

“Yes she is.” His nostrils flared in an attempt to intimidate Jake, you knew that wasn’t going to happen though.

Shaking his head casually Jake stood from his bar stool finally getting a good look at him. You knew Jake was taller than him, but you didn’t realize just how much. Taking a defensive stance, he eyed the man up and down cracking a smile when he met his eyes again, “Not according to Y/N, you’re not.”

“And you believe the little bitch?” He puffed his chest out not backing down from Jake. You had to hand it to the stupid man, he sure didn’t know when to call it quits.

Jake slowly shook his head, “I reckon you apologize to her.”

He laughed, a full on belly laugh. Getting a kick out of that one. You couldn’t rip your eyes from the scene unfolding before you, neither could the other aviators who had grown quiet observing the interaction between the two men. It was still busy enough that nobody paid them any mind, yet.

“For what?”

Jake didn’t break his stare down on the coward, “You know what for.”

He smirked somehow feeling like he had the upper hand in this argument, “I’m just putting my girl back in her place. Mind your own damn business.”

Realizing this was likely going to escalate you waved down Penny to try and figure out what to do. She waved you off letting you know that it was okay. She didn’t mind a fight in her bar.

“No, see I have a problem with that. Where I’m from a man never lays a hand on a woman.” Jake spoke as coolly as you’ve ever seen him. You just knew you were about to witness some shit go down.

He laughed, “And where I’m from she’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Eyes widening at that you actually felt fear from the man for the first time. Had he manipulated you that bad in the relationship that you couldn’t see what a true monster he was? Sure, it was only a few months but at one point you genuinely liked the guy. Now he was sitting here threating to hurt you even further.

Jake saw your fear in his peripherals. He took a step back towards you letting you know that he’s got you covered. He wouldn’t let this so called man hurt you again.

“Touch her again and you’ll understand just how nice we treat men like you.”

“I will do whatever the fuck I want to do to her. She’s mine.”

Your skin was crawling now, breaking out into chills all throughout your body. You definitely had to have missed some big red flags in the relationship.

The other aviators noticed the altercation wasn’t dying down but firing up. You noticed the one that helped him drag the unconscious man out of the bar last week was slowly making his way over to Jake.

“That’s just not going to happen.”

He then placed his pointer finger on Jakes chest, “Like I said. You don’t tell me what the fuck I can do.”

“You have 2 seconds to remove your hand.” He glared coldly.

“One.” Payback spoke up stepping closer to the scene crossing his arms over his chest. Having Jake’s back, “Two.”

Your stupid ex didn’t have a clue apparently because he smugly stood there. How he could be so cocky was beyond you, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jake spoke. Catching a faint grin, he cocked his head to the side giving him one last chance to step back.

“What are you going to do?”

Jake sighed, “This.”

With his left hand he quickly grabbed his finger bending it back until he head the snap. Your ex wailed in pain at the broken finger. That wasn’t enough for Jake though. He knew he needed to really drive this lesson home for him.

So, as he was crying in pain Jake took his right arm and punched him right under the chin sending him to the floor instantly.

For the second time in a few days another patron was knocked unconscious. Penny sighed while shaking her head opting not to worry about it. Letting the two aviators handle it.

Payback snickered, “You did warn him.”

Jake nodded, “I did. Many times.”

“Damn.” You grinned, “That was one hell of a punch.”

Jake spun on his heels smiling from ear to ear, “I took notes from the best.”

He studied you again noticing just how much more relaxed your demeanor had become when he wasn’t a direct threat anymore, “Let me see your phone.” He demanded more than asked as he walked back closer to the bar.

“What for?” You asked while handing it to him.

“If that motherfucker even looks at you weird again, you call me. Okay?” He quickly added his name to your contacts before handing it back to you.

“Okay. Thank you Jake. Really, thank you.” You leaned over the counter taking it back from him. Pausing when you realized just how close your faces were together.

“Anytime. And if you just want to talk or hang out you can call me too.”

“Really?” Your smile grew at his statement.

Nodding his head he scanned your face again, “Please do. I’m looking forward to it.” He winked before pulling back away from you.

You watched, a little speechless, as the two aviators dragged your good for nothing ex out of the bar and hopefully far away from your life.

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sugarcoated-lame · 2 years ago

Note

‘he’d make you take off your glasses and lick them.’ Holy fucking shit Seb… JAIL FOR TJIS !!!!!

My glasses-wearing ass is never going to cope from this thank you 🫠🫠🫠 <3

wearing glasses and hangman asking to keep them on while he comes on your face

i choked reading this oh my god 😵‍💫

i think it ties massively into this ask here and how jake loves to see you look all intelligent and put together in your day to day life, but the sight of you with with his cum painted over your glasses that you were just wearing to complete an essay for your bachelors degree, he’s hard again.

he would love it. just love, love, love to see that side of you and see you in that state. he’d make you take off your glasses and lick them. he’s definitely snapped a couple of photos of you like that too.

njkfhskfjw omg thank you much for this insane thot my love!! 💌

#no thots head empty #i’m spiraling #hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #top gun maverick

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topgun-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

Day 10: Blood In The Water

Pairings: Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw x sister!reader, Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

Synopsis: What would have happened if it was you, Ice’s RIO, in that flat spin instead of Goose?

Warnings: mentions of death, panic attacks, crying, fainting, engine failure & plane crashes.

Note: wouldn’t mind expanding on this one after whumptober if people are interested

Word count: 1.3k

“Come on, Mav!” You called from behind Ice. The two of you were currently flying right behind Maverick, the arrogant pilot having cut you off to get a shot on the bogey. After many attempts, he was unsuccessful and now refusing to move to let you and Iceman get the shot. He was too close to get a proper shot lined up. The pissing contest between the two was really starting to get out of hand. “Get the hell out of there!”

With a roll of your eyes, you gave up on yelling at your brother's best friend and spoke to Ice instead. After little encouragement from you, it was his turn to yell at Maverick. “Mav! Come off high right,” You grinned, ready for Ice to make the shot. However, Mav insisted that he only needed five more seconds. “Come off high right, Mav. I’m in.” Everything seemed to be going fine. You and Ice were about to make the shot, putting you on top of the scoreboard.

But in the blink of an eye, everything went to hell.

“I’m off. Shit!” Maverick hissed, quickly pulling up and to the right. For a second, you were elated. This was the point that would put you over the edge. You were seconds away from winning the Top Gun trophy. That was before your stomach dropped and you realized what exactly was happening.

You froze, eyes screwed shut as you screamed at Ice. “We’re in his jet wash!” Distantly, you heard Ice curse in front of you. Your head was pounding against your skull, horror surging through your veins. The only thing you could do was hope that Ice could pull you out of it. This was not good. You peeled your eyes open when you heard a sensor going off. “Shit! We’ve got a flame out, Ice!” More sensors went off as your jet continued to spiral. “Engine one is out! Engine two is out!”

It was then that you heard the words you never wanted to hear from your pilot. He called your name in a rush. “I’m losing control, I’m losing control!” The panic in his voice was unlike anything you had ever heard before. “I ca- I can’t control it! It won’t recover!” He cussed again as the jet spun uncontrollably through the air.

You looked up with tears in your eyes, watching the view from the canopy switch from the dark ocean below to the bright blue sky. “We’re out of control! This is not good!” Before you could stop it, a sob bubbled out of your chest. It wasn’t often that you cried, and you knew that Ice needed you to be level-headed, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were about to die.

When Ice heard you crying behind him, it was as if something clicked in his mind. Suddenly, you stopped spinning. Now your jet was headed straight for the ocean. As a kid, you loved the water; splashing around in it with your brother. Now? Not so much. Through heavy breaths, you blinked sluggishly. Everything felt funny. Your head became fuzzy, it was harder to breathe and you felt sick to your stomach.

And then everything went dark.

In front of you, Ice was focused on pulling the two of you out of the flat spin. The two of you were going to make it through this. He was sure of it.

Only one hundred meters away, Goose watched, helpless as his baby sister and her pilot spun out of control. He would never tell Maverick this, but if there was one person that he was confident could recover from a flat spin, it was Iceman. When you had followed Goose to the academy only a few years after him, needless to say, he was worried. He was even more worried when you were paired with the infamous Iceman. After all, you were his baby sister. Nick Bradshaw would lay his life down to protect you. And everyone knew that.

One night, only a few days after you and Iceman had been paired up, Goose approached the cocky pilot that he considered his friend. Regardless of the fact that some would have assumed that Goose was really questioning Ice’s skill, Ice knew that your brother was simply looking out for you. And that was something that he could understand. That night, your pilot had promised to protect you with his life. If he could help it, no harm would ever come to you.

A few months later, Goose met Maverick. Even though Mav wasn’t at the academy, the two grew inseparable almost instantly. You had met Mav many times before being reunited with the pilot at Top Gun, however, he had never met your pilot. When you walked into the first class only a few weeks ago, Maverick’s jaw dropped at the sight of you strutting in with Iceman’s arm thrown over your shoulders. Needless to say, he was a bit jealous.

Maverick was never a religious man. But now, even he was praying that Ice could pull this off. Right now, his ego didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for saving you and Iceman. Did he like the pilot? No. Did that mean that he wanted to watch him crash into the ocean? Hell no. Especially not if it meant you were going with him. You and Goose were the only family he had left. He wasn’t about to lose you.

“Mayday! Mayday! Ice is in trouble!” Simultaneously, Maverick and Goose’s jaws dropped. They both watched Ice pull off a miracle. Your jet was no longer spinning out of control. Instead, it was rising steadily. Even over the coms, they could hear Ice breathe a sigh of relief. But they weren't quite done yet. The next step was getting all four of you back to land without another incident.

Back on land, you were lying on the tarmac, out cold with Ice, Mav, and your brother hovering protectively over you. Ever so slowly, you blinked your eyes open, gasping quietly at the sight of the three aviators hovering over you. You only had a second to process what was happening before Goose collapsed onto you, clinging to you for dear life. There was a small smile on your face as you hugged him back.

Ice and Maverick sat back on their heels and made eye contact. Where there normally would have been anger or disdain, there was now thankfulness and understanding. A nod was shared between the two. And then your brother was launching himself at Iceman. Chuckling at the sight of your pilot's shocked face, you sat up slowly with the help of Mav. Ice shot a dazzling smile at you from over your brother’s shoulder and patted his back in reassurance.

“Thank you,” Goose pulled back, his expression as serious as you had ever seen it. “Thank you so much for keeping her safe.” Everyone’s expressions became sombre at the reality of what could have happened. Ice only nodded at your brother.

You were the next to hug him, falling into his arms and sniffling into his chest. His strong arms wrapped securely around you, keeping you anchored to the ground, to him. You could have sworn you heard him sniffle, but no one else ever had to know. When you sniffled again, holding him tighter, he rocked the two of you back and forth. And neither your brother, nor Maverick, needed to know that he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple seconds later.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! Join the taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @bradleybeachbabe @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @mploopssek @callsignharper @seitmai @kellyls04 @scarletmeii @inkandarsenic

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of-many-fandomss · 2 years ago

Note

jake seresin being drunk and coming home to the reader and it's basically just really cute and full of fluff!!

My first top gun blurb!! (I’m so mad I had to rewrite this cause it deleted the first time and it isn’t as good this time cause I don’t remember what I wrote)

—————

Jake was vaguely aware of the fact that he reeked of alcohol, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care as he stumbled through the short hall towards his bedroom, making a small game out of trying not to hit the walls in his drunken state.

Rooster had just dropped him off at home after a ‘guys night out’ at the Hard Deck for their first week off in a long time that may or may not have ended in one too many beers. Originally, he had insisted on staying home with you, to which you laughed and practically had to tackle him out the door to make sure he went to enjoy himself with his friend.

Clumsily, Jake flailed around for the handle, but stopped short as soon as he threw the door open. A person was sitting up against the headboard of his bed, eyes widening a little bit in surprise as they looked up from the book they held open in their lap.

A small smile formed on your lips at the sight of him standing in your doorway looking around in confusion, noticing right away that he was slightly drunk.

“Hey, honey-“

“Who are you?” He hissed in a whisper, “What are you doing in my house?”

The grin widened on your face when you realized just how drunk he was, and you feigned confusion, deciding to play along, “What do you mean?”

He sighed patiently, “Listen, you look lovely, but that’s my girlfriends spot you’re sitting on. And I really love her, so you need to leave.”

“I am your girlfriend,” You smirked, sliding off the bed and striding across the room until you were standing right in front of him, knowing full well that the two of you had been happily married for just over two years. But you also knew from past experiences that mentioning that would send your husband into a whole different spiral of emotions in his drunken state.

His eyes squinted at you until his mouth dropped open in realization and he relaxed, “Oh, darlin’ thank goodness your back,” His southern accent was thicker than it normally was when he was sober, “There was this women on your side of the bed, but I told her to get lost because I love you!” He stated proudly.

“Good job, honey,” You cooed out your praise, bringing his arm to rest around your shoulder so that you could lead him into the bathroom.

You sat him down on the closed toilet seat and made your way over to the sink to get him a cup of water, his eyes trailing after you in adoration the whole way, before you came back and handed it to him, “Drink all of this for me, will you, honey?”

“Yes, ma’am,” He murmured, causing your lips to quirk up slightly.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get you something more comfortable to wear for bed,” You gave him a quick kiss on the top of the hair before leaving the bathroom.

He frowned after you, rocking back and forth against the seat and waited for you to return.

You barley even stepped foot back into the room a moment later before he sprang up and came barreling towards you, wrapping you into a bone-crushing embrace tightly, burying his face into your hair, “Thank goodness your back!” He gushed, “I missed you so much when you were gone!”

Laugher bubbled up inside you as you wrapped your arms around your husbands torso in return, “I wasn’t gone that long, Jakey.”

“It was too long,” He whimpered back.

Carefully, you pried his hands off of you after a moment and handed him a stack of folded sleep clothes you had just taken out of his drawer.

“Can you get changed?” You asked, to which he nodded his head excitedly and whipped around, accidentally knocking over the half full cup that he had placed on the ground in the process.

“Oh, here, I got-“

“I got it!” He interrupted you excitedly, not even hesitating to shed off his shirt and bend down to start mopping the water off the floor with it.

You blinked once at his toned back, chuckling slightly to yourself at how fast he had reacted to reveal his bare top to clean up a small pile of water.

He stopped suddenly, smirking up at you, “Unless you would rather take off your shirt and do this,”

That at least emitted a loud laugh at you as you shook your head at your cocky husbands antics and helped pull him to his feet once he was all done cleaning up his mess.

You helped him put on the rest of his pajamas- mostly just making sure he didn’t fall into the bathtub- before taking his hand and starting to pull him to the room so that you could both go to sleep.

You were stopped though at a tug of resistance you felt on your arm, and you looked back to question Jake, only to find him frowning down at your intertwined fingers.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked worriedly.

Slowly, he lifted your hand to reveal none other than the breathtakingly beautiful, shiny ring that he had used to propose to you with a couple years ago, “You’re cheating on me?” He asked quietly, a look of nothing but devastating heartbreak on his face.

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly before your eyes widened, remembering that you had let him believe that you were still boyfriend and girlfriend, “No, no, Jakey! You’re my husband! We’re married!”

His eyes snapped up to you as his bottom lip quivered and tears began to sine in his eyes, “We are?” He addled quietly.

You quickly took his face between your hands and made him look you in the eyes, “Yes! We’ve been married for two years now!”

Automatically, as if nothing had happened, his features cleared of all sorrow and he grinned at you with a lovesick expression, “Oh, that’s good.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, continuing your journey to the bed, “Yes, that’s very good.”

Even as you helped him slide under the covers, he never once took his gaze off of you, and as you tried to move to get the light switch, you felt his strong but gentle grip stop you once more, “You’re pretty,” He commented, gaze wide and childlike.

You had to physically stop yourself from laughing, knowing that it would do nothing but upset his feelings because he never called you pretty. It was always gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, sexy- not pretty.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” You teased, unconsciously moving a hair out of his face.

“Nuh uh!” He exclaimed, shaking his head back and forth widely, “Only you!”

Your heart melted right then and there and you bent down and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, “Thank you, Jake.”

Yet again, you tried to go and move, but his hand was still to let go of yours, so you turned back to him to see what he needed.

His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at you, “What about me?” He demanded.

“What about you?” You asked in curiosity.

“Am I pretty?” Within his tipsy state, he wasn’t even joking, making the situation that much funnier.

You chucked slightly, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, “The prettiest,” You promise.

“Nuh uh!” He protested once more.

“And why’s that?” Your eyebrows rose.

“Because you’re the prettiest,” He said in a ‘duh’ tone, “I’m the… second prettiest!”

You laughed again, squeezing his hand lovingly, “The second prettiest it is, then.”

This time, he let you turn off the lights, and by the time you turned back to the bed, his breathing had already evened out and his chest was falling up and down steadily.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin blurb #hangman x reader #hangman blurb #top gun blurb #top gun x reader

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

Text

♡ But It's Better If You Do ♡

♡ Pairing: rockstar!mingi! x chubby!fem!!tattoo artist!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/angst/sorta suggestive

♡ Summary: Your ongoing love affair with your rocker client is all fine and dandy until you begin to catch feelings for him that send you into a spiral that isn't fine nor dandy.

♡ Word Count: 1.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: drinking, getting tattoos, kissing, briefly reminiscing on getting some top-notch dick, pet names (baby), reader gets turned on by Mingi (because, like, who wouldn't?), I like to say "fuck", & that's about it

♡ A/N: I've combined my neverending weakness for rock musicians, Song Min Gi, and happy endings into one fic and my lil alt girl heart is happy. I hope yours will be too. I may or may not have a thing for turning bad boy Mingi into a simp for reader but, like...ssssh.

It drives you insane when your friends tease you about Mingi, asking what city he’s in now and when you’ll see him next. You don’t know what city he’s in. That’s a lie, you always know. And you have no plans on seeing him ever again. Another lie. You’d stop the world to see him for 5 minutes. From the moment he walked into your shop, seeking an impulsive late-night tattoo, you were doomed to fall for him.

The first time he stopped by your shop it was a little after midnight and you were ready to close up but you were starstruck, you’ll die before you ever admit that, and he was gorgeous so you let him in. His choppy hair was a total mess and his dark eyeliner had all but melted off, the remnants smudged like ash beneath volcanic eyes that engulfed you each time they gleamed in your direction. You did the tattoo, an old-school traditional dagger down his left rib snuck in amongst the other 30 or so tattoos crowded onto his chest.

He paid you 3 times your normal rate and was supposed to be on his way. But you knew from his shows and his offstage antics that he wasn’t one to do anything he was supposed to. Armed with a pretty face framed by the softest cheeks and a plump figure he just wanted to nibble at, he instantly developed a weakness for you. Mingi had to have you and he did. All night. Reclined in your tattoo chair, bent over your workstation, cuddled up on the couch in the lobby. In the darkness of your studio, sweat-slicked bodies reflecting the glow of the neon lights like puddles of rain, he took you every way he could.

And you gave. And you gave. And you gave. Being with him altered everything you thought you knew about desire. About pleasure. Mingi touched you in ways you never imagined someone could. He made you feel beautiful. Worshiped you with his tongue from head to toe until the sun rose. Once it did he was gone, off to some other city. To some other girl in some other tattoo shop no doubt. So you moved on, filing it away as a one-time thing. Only it wasn’t. Mingi came to see you every chance he could.

Even if he was a few cities over he made sure to come by for another tattoo and another night with you. But these passionate encounters, concealed by the shadows of late nights and early mornings, planted feelings in your heart that bloomed long after he left. Your body was beginning to confuse lust for love, or so you believed, and that could only hurt you both. You especially. It had to stop. No more. Never again.

Your tattoo gun buzzes in your hand, a bundle of needles punching delicate black lines into Mingi’s neck. Never again? Yeah right. This time he wants a death moth on the side of his neck. It’s beautiful, as all your work is, and nearly done. Something he’s thankful for because this hurts like fuck but pissed about because being straddled by you on the couch has always been the preferable position for him. Your thighs double in thickness when they’re spread around him. He can just zone out rubbing and squeezing them.

“Hey!” you squeak when he takes a particularly greedy handful of your ass, “Cut it out or I’m gonna fuck up your tattoo.” Mingi takes a deep breath, his toned chest flexing as his muscles contract. “You won’t fuck it up. You’re too good at what you do. That’s why I come to you.” “Oh, really? Is that the only reason?” He grins and you can feel him staring at you the way he always does before your clothes end up on the floor. It makes your palms sweaty and your panties wetter than they already were. “You know that’s not the only reason, baby.”

Mingi sinks his fingers into your pillowy flesh, leaning forward to kiss you with not a care in the world about it ruining his tattoo. His lips brush yours, heightening the warmth between your thighs and making your heart change rhythm to match him. You want him on you. In you. You need him. Love him. Love him. Love him? “You need to go,” you say, your voice shaking as you flick off the tattoo gun. You’re off of him in a split second, packing your things away.

“Wait, what’s wrong? Did I do something?“ He tails you in your mad dash around the shop, sick at the thought that he might’ve made you uncomfortable. “I can’t—you just have to go, Mingi.” Snatching his t-shirt from the front counter, you toss it at him without looking. You can’t bear to make eye contact. “Did I hurt you?” You unintentionally ignore him, too lost in the tsunami of repressed emotions wrecking your insides. Mingi takes you by the wrist, pulling you close to him before you can get away from him.

“Did I hurt you?” “You didn’t hurt me, okay? But if you stay you will.” Mingi’s hands cradle your face, his mind frantically scanning it for some sign of what’s going on inside your head. “Whatever I did to scare you…I’ll leave but I’d never intentionally hurt you” he swears, “I love you too much for that.” You’re both equally shocked at the words that leave his lips. You weren’t expecting to hear them and, though he means it beyond measure, he wasn’t expecting to it to slip out.

“No, no you don’t. You don’t” you mumble, backing away from him, “You’re just saying that to—” “To fuck you?” he scoffs, in slight disbelief of what you’re implying. “I don’t know” you shrug, “It’s why you sneak off here at 1am to see me isn’t it?” Mingi throws his shirt on, grabbing his leather jacket off of your workstation. “I’ve asked you on dates. I’ve invited you to dinner with my friends. I send you backstage passes to my shows and you never come.”

“I’m trying to be more to you. I just wish you’d let me in” he sighs, stopping to plant a tender kiss on your trembling mouth, “Goodnight.” You're frozen in place, your feet sinking into the checkered tile floors like quicksand, as you watch him walk out of the door. A little voice in the back of your head whispers that he’s right. You have been pushing him away, playfully brushing off his proposals because they must have been a joke. He’s him…a star...and you? You’re just you.

Ignoring the tears clouding your vision, you flop down in a chair and begin scrolling through the texts the two of you exchanged over the past week. You stop at a message sent 2 days ago, your heart stinging at the sight of a link for a backstage pass for both nights of his show. It reads: "It’d be nice to see you. Would love it if you came.” You could take the chance, gamble with your heart—you close out of the thread, swiping to delete it—but it’s better if you don’t.

The roar of the crowd. The cacophony of instruments, harsh vocals, and borderline destruction laid out by the opening band. The chaos going on backstage to resolve last-minute disasters while his barely sober friends bullshit in the green room. The pure insanity of it all usually has Mingi wired but tonight he’s numb to everything. He leans back in his chair, checking his phone notifications. Nothing. At least not from you. He takes another sip of the beer he’s been taking child-sized swigs from for the past hour. It takes like piss, he doesn’t even like beer, but he has to calm his friends’ suspicions that something’s wrong by at least pretending he’s joining in on things.

“Party's here!” Yunho screams, bursting into the green room full of energy. Mingi perks up when he enters, the arrival of his best friend calming his anxiety. Yunho has no problem taking the social spotlight when Mingi isn’t all here and tonight he’s definitely somewhere far away. Yunho spots Mingi seated in the corner, staring into the mirror as he falls endlessly down some mental hole. “Still haven’t heard from her?” he asks, throwing his arm over Mingi’s shoulder. “No. I wanna call her, you know, but…I don’t know.”

Yunho snatches Mingi’s beer, chugging the remainder of it before tossing the bottle in the corner. “Listen to me, you forget her. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Actually, I brought a pretty fresh one for you tonight.” His face painted with a mischievous grin, Yunho slinks back over to the door to retrieve his surprise. Mingi rolls his eyes, his head thrown back in agony, “Yunho, not tonight. I’m not in the mood for this, man. I don’t wanna meet any fucking groupies.”

“I resent being called a ‘fucking groupie’” you pout, sneaking up beside him with the stealth of a secret agent. Mingi turns his head, squinting at the inverted image of you, “You—what are you doing here?” Your smile is awkward and endearing as you nervously fiddle with the lace trim of your black dress. “I’m letting you in...if it’s not too late.” By the way he hops up from his chair, his arms around your waist and his tongue down your throat in an instant, you already know the answer. But it still makes your head spin when he pulls away to say, “It’s not too late. It could never be.”

The head of a heavily pierced girl peeks through the door, her bubblegum pink hair swept into a high ponytail. “2 minutes til stage. Let's go!” she shouts like a drill sergeant and all of the men fall in line, rushing to get Mingi out on time. Yunho does what he can to put some distance between Mingi and everyone else, "He's coming! He's coming! Don't tear my man apart!" Mingi struggles to keep hold of you as what seems like a million hands pull him in the other direction.

“Just go. I’ll be watching so kick some ass, okay? For me!” "For you." You grab him by the shirt, sneaking in one last kiss, “Love you.” “1 minute til stage!” the girl’s voice booms once more. The tide sweeps him away until you can’t see him anymore but you still manage to hear a very excited “Love you too!” in that deep, raspy voice of his. You follow the herd, finding a spot off to the side just as he takes the stage.

Watching him perform, smiling at each other so hard your cheeks ache every chance you can, gets you high enough that you might as well be watching him from a cloud. When rips his shirt off, tossing it into the crowd, he reveals a chest covered in tattoos made with ink laced with silent admissions of your love. Only now they aren't silent. They're louder than every instrument on that stage. Because you're confident now that when it comes to taking a chance on love…on him…it’s so much better if you do.

#song mingi x reader #song mingi x you #mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez fluff #ateez angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

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