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roosterforme · 11 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.

He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego?

It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?

Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"

You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."

Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"

Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."

This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.

...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...

...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...

...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...

...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...

After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.

On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all.

You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.

"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job.

This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."

You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."

"No way!" Henry promised.

"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."

You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other.

"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted.

When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.

"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"

"Does this mean his deployment is over?"

"Why does he have flowers?"

He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."

His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"

"I think they're in love!"

"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"

Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."

"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.

"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."

You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"

"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.

"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well.

"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."

You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.

"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.

You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.

When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.

"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.

"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"

He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"

You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"

He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."

Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.

Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."

"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."

You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."

"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."

You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"

"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."

He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.

Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley

When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."

You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."

With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.

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He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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wonderjanga · 5 months ago

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Zombies

(So this is a little continuation from this post)

So basically in that post, Marvel and Aquaman got separated from the JL and find some ancient underwater Atlantean zombies.

*zombie groan*

Aquaman and Marvel: *slowly look over*

Giant Horde of Zombies: *just standing there*

They proceeded to go on a scooby doo be do type of chase, eventually deciding to hide in a ruined building.

Aquaman: “Should we just get rid of them?” *peeks head over some rubble to look at the zombies and is already readying his trident*

Marvel: “We can’t.” *also peaks head*

Aquaman: “What do you mean, we can’t? We have to take care of this now. If we leave, they might follow us back to Atlantis.”

Marvel: “I’m not saying we should leave them. They’re cursed.”

Aquaman: “Magic did this?”

Marvel: “Yeah.” *nods head* “We have to find out what happened to them.”

Aquaman: “Wouldn’t killing them be much easier? It’d be putting them out of their misery.”

Marvel: “Arthur, they’re still alive.”

Aquaman: “Eeeeh… Are they though?”

Marvel and Aquaman: *watch has a zombie runs into a wall and keeps trying to walk through that wall*

Marvel: “They are. Killing them will be our Plan B. If the curse is lifted, they might go back to normal and if not...”

Marvel and Aquaman: *look back at the zombie that is still running into the wall repeatedly*

Marvel: “We’ll get rid of them.”

After sneaking around a bunch more, they finally found a temple.

Marvel: “Gosh, I remember this place!” *looking around in wonder* “It was beautiful. It’s a real shame it’s just ruins now.”

Aquaman: *leaning down and looking at some broken stained glass* “I bet it was.”

Marvel: *spots a chalice on an altar* “I think that’s is it. I can sense some magic residue.” *jogs over*

Aquaman: *also walks over and spots a plaque on the altar* “Ancient Atlantean?” *skims it over* “Wow. The thing in that cup was a glorified liquid plague.”

Marvel: “It was? All the priests always talked about it like it was holy water.” *picks up the chalice* “Looks like someone drank it.”

Aquaman: “No wonder they’re zombies.”

Marvel: “Huh. To think the plague lasted this long. It’s a wonder they aren’t decomposing.”

Aquaman: “Uh, Cap?” *points to the horde rushing at them*

Marvel: *sighs* “It looks like we’ll have to get rid of them after all. If they’ve been with this plague for so long, it’s probably bonded too deep for me to use a counterspell.”

Aquaman: *pulls out his trident and gets to work*

Like Two Days Later…

Supes: “You were gone for almost two days, where have you been?”

Aquaman: “Oh yeah, that’s our bad. We got rid of some zombies-

Flash: “Zombies??”

Aquaman: “-and then popped up to the surface for some burgers.”

Batman: “And you didn’t think to contact us at all?”

Marvel: “We were really hungry. Arthur also tried to pay them in Atlantean currency cause that was all he had. So I spent like twenty minutes having to convert it into US dollars.” (Ref to the Wonder Girl and Marvel post from a long long long time ago)

Flash: “Cool! Uh… but why’re you guys covered in blood.”

Aquaman: “This is from the zombies.”

WW: “Have neither of you bathed yet…?”

Marvel: “Nope.”

They were in fact covered in blood. Fun fact, after killing all the zombies, Arthur actually found out the hard way that Atlantan zombie blood doesn’t infect you if it gets in your mouth. Though, he still ended up retching for like five minutes while Marvel was just patting his back.

Aquaman: *violently retching his guts out*

Marvel: “It’s okay, pal. Let it all out.” *patting his back*

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #aquaman #arthur curry

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cottonlemonade · 2 months ago

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Tsukki’s Pining

word count: 753 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x popular chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: Hi I would love For breakfast and dinner to have a #14 to study possibly at the museum with Tsukishima. Thank you so much! Love your writing sm. It's been helping me destress these last few days 💞 || fluffy, part-time job with rival crush Tsukishima

Your popularity was of great annoyance to Tsukishima.

Every couple of steps there seemed to be yet another person you knew that drew you into yet another pointless conversation, distracting you from your job and, ultimately, him.

It was only natural for the two top students of the department to get the highly sought-after internships at the museum and while at first he thought you wanted to work in the same areas as he did to spite him, he quickly found he really didn’t mind spending more time with you alone. At least that’s what a not-so-quiet, but quickly suppressed, corner of his brain said.

Unfortunately, however, every other day there was some guy, looking lost at the exhibits and lighting up when he saw you. He’d come over and strike up an excited conversation, and you’d giggle or hug him even until, eventually, you’d wave a merry goodbye.

Unlike most other people in the department, Tsukishima didn’t have a crush on you - officially. His heart didn’t flutter when you looked at him, his brain function wasn’t restricted when you gave him a smile, and he could easily form full sentences packed full of sarcasm and pettiness in your presence - officially.

In reality, much like everyone else, he had quickly fallen for your charm. With your witty nature and passion for the subject, he had caught (and scolded) himself too many times staring at you during lectures and study sessions, clenching his jaw when he saw you walking hand in hand with another winner over the campus, and he didn’t even have to pretend to be sick to his stomach when he found you making out in the back of the library - annoyingly, right in front of a book he needed. The guy had looked as if he didn’t even know how to spell pterodactyl, and the mental image popping up from that memory still made his blood boil.

Today wasn’t any different. You were both currently deeply engrossed in a discussion about the possible layout for a new exhibit when some stocky dark-haired guy with a megawatts smile and unaware expression beelined to you.

“Y/n! Fancy meeting you here.”

You chuckled in that charming way of yours and noted, “At the place where I work?”

The guy joined in your laughter, not the least bit embarrassed, and stepped closer, only to notice Tsukishima’s cold eyes on him.

“Oh hey! You’re Bunazawa, right?”

“Tsukishima.”, the tall blonde corrected him with a twitch of his brow.

“Ah. Well, I was close.” The other guy said good-naturedly.

“How is tha-“

You interrupted, “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to ask if you wanna come out tonight. I would have texted, but I know you can’t carry your phone with you during work.”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Awesome!”

Tsukishima longed for the world that existed 2 minutes ago. Back when he didn’t have to witness you making some jock blush with a simple tilt of your head.

Especially now, as the guy turned to him, obviously in the mood for bonding - an attempt that he very much wanted to smother immediately.

“So, you also study pal-pealeo-pa-paleonlo- dinosaur science?”

Tsukishima had the perfect retort ready, one that would make this guy sorry for ever even considering to procreate when you took his hand to stop him, squeezing it while you kept your small talk going. His skin tingled, his palm felt too sweaty, and he didn’t hear anything you or the guy even said until he was already leaving. And you let go of him again.

Now that his thoughts became linear once more, he couldn’t help himself, “Dinosaur science? Really?”

You smirked at his judgy tone and had the audacity to shrug and reply, “What can I say? He’s a great kisser.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”, Tsukishima grumbled, “And start telling your boyfriends to stop coming here and interrupting our work. It’s annoying to have them drool over you all the time.”

You studied his face for a second with a knowing smile. “What, you don’t agree with them?”, you teased and struck a pose, hands on your pudgy hips.

Every muscle in his face protested when he suppressed a smile, “To me, you’re one of those chubby cats on social media rolling on the floor and chasing leaves.”

“Are you calling me fat?”, you asked, jokingly.

No, I was calling you cute, you idiot., he thought, but would sooner go out with one of your fans himself than admit that out loud.

art: the insanely talented @freaka-loonyz on Instagram

a/n: this is the last request of the university event! Thank you so, so much to everyone who requested, and so sorry to the people who had to wait months for their request to get done!! I hope you, dear anon who asked for this one, liked it, and thank you for your kind words! 🌟

I will take a bit of a break from request games because this one took so much out of me for no reason! 🥲

Special thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for helping me figure this one out 🫶🏻✨

#sunnys university #tsukishima x chubby reader #tsukki x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader #hq fluff #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #tsukkishima x reader #tsukkishima kei #tsukishima kei x chubby reader #tsukishima kei #tsukki x reader #hq tsukki #hq tsukishima

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yandere-romanticaa · 8 months ago

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Sampo Koski is the type of man who always manages to mix in pleasure with his business. If any sane person were to even simply glance at him, they'd know that the man was nothing but trouble.

That's what made him so fun to play around with.

A friends with benefits type of deal was just so perfect for the both of you. Neither wanted to get too deeply involved with the other but the chemistry between you two was off the charts. Heated glances were exchanged whenever you'd pass by him, his eyebrows raising cheekily high up as you'd recall the way Sampo would touch you in the cover of darkness, those skilled and thieving hands which would take their sweet time in making you quiver in pleasure.

Oh he was so horrible with how damn slow he could get, but to Hell with it all if it didn't feel good.

Breathless nothings were exchanged between the lovebirds as their bodies would do most of the talking, passion erasing any sort of rationale, lust clouding ones judgement. Those fleeting moments were intense as the sun itself - hot and hard to handle, it left the two breathless and aching but by everything and anything, the ache was so delectable. It felt like the personification of devouring the most delectable sweet ever created in the whole entire universe, only multiplied by a million.

Sampo always got a kick out of the thought that he had you on the hook. Your good old pal Sampo, who was ready to do anything you wanted, who was right there to make any sick and dark fantasy of yours come to life... for the right price and compensation of course!

Your entire relationship was a very much give and take type of deal. The line was drawn neatly in the sand and he was to never cross it.

But Sampo, ever the joyous fool that he was, had so much fun dancing on that line.

His kisses became longer, his touches would linger on you far more intimately than they had any right to. You'd constantly have to slap his hands away because if things could be done the way he desired them to, Sampo would be slobbering all over you like a starving dog. He never took your jabs seriously, always laughing them off or cracking a bad joke as he was literally still inside of you, your back pressed against his chest, the sweat off your skin molding with his own, causing the entire room to garner a whole new smell.

He sure did like to pick and choose his timing to be extra stupid, you'd grit through your teeth.

However, one day, all was not well in the little paradise which Sampo had oh so wonderfully created for himself. The familiar slap on the wrist and the annoyed tone to just hurry up became... Painful. Hard to ignore. It felt as though someone had taken one of his own blades and just stabbed him in the heart without a care in the world.

Sampo could not rest well that night.

The sensation quickly became uncomfortable to deal with. No, unbearable.

He started to pester you on your whereabouts and with who you would be with and even if you never told him, Sampo would always be in the exact same places you'd be, the usual sleazy grin plastered across his face as he rubbed his hands together like some cheeky little fly. Oh come on, he's just having fun, don't be so harsh on him! You'll hurt his feelings you know, he would say to you in a playful manner.

Everything he would say would be an absolute truth. He just wasn't fully aware of it, he needed time to process this mess.

Sampo couldn't help but to despise you a little. There you were, living your life happily and you would just toss him aside like yesterday's garbage once you had your fun with him.... Which he didn't actually mind, sort of. There was a certain edge he got from knowing that he could just crawl back to you whenever he damn well pleased, even if he did like to pretend that he didn't care about you other than on a skin deep level.

You had too much power over him and that, my dear friend, was a breach in your contract. Sure, that part might have been written in a more fine print but regardless, Sampo simply must take what he is due!

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idiopath-fic-smile · 2 years ago

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this one goes out to all my Singin' in the Rain ot3 truthers—

Cosmo Brown had always known it would end like this.

Cosmo was a lot of things—in fact, you could argue he was too many—but he wasn’t dumb.

From the early years, when Cosmo and Don were just kids playing for pennies in pool halls, to their stint dodging rotten vegetables on Vaudeville stages across the very backwaters of America’s backwaters, to their first real breath of success in Hollywood (and then the second and the third and the fourth), Cosmo would catch a glimpse of his handsome, charismatic friend from the corner of his eye—a flash of dark hair, that perfect tooth powder ad smile—and know that for all Don’s protestations, someday the guy was gonna meet a wonderful girl and get married, settle down, and very gently slip off to the far edge of Cosmo’s life.

So yes, Cosmo had seen Kathy Selden coming. Not the details, not her sense of humor or her musical little laugh or the madcap way she really threw herself into dancing with them around Don’s place at 1:30 in the morning—and okay, certainly not the part at the beginning where she had jumped out of a cake at a party, but he thought a fella could be excused for not correctly divining that.

The general outline of the thing, though, how Don’s eyes followed her around a room...he had been preparing for Don to propose to Kathy ever since she’d tried to throw a pie at Don’s face. And when the happy day came, Cosmo had been ready with his best man suit, his best man speech, a slightly updated version of “Here Comes the Bride” that’d had Don and Kathy laughing all the way down the aisle.

Don and Kathy would buy a house together. They would have a swimming pool and a dog and then inevitably, a small parade of adorable little snot-nosed kids who would call him Uncle Cosmo, and they would spend less and less time with him, not on purpose but busy with the rest of their lives, and ultimately Cosmo would learn to make his peace with it because he’d have no other choice and he would have to try to move on and not live too much in his memories. He could picture it so clearly, he figured if the songwriting gig with Monumental didn’t pan out, he could always return to the backwater circuit with a new act: The Amazing Cosmo of the Cosmos—ladies and gentlemen, he sees the future, he reads the stars, he silently pines for his best married pal and all the while tap dancing!

Don and Kathy inviting him along on their honeymoon, though—that part was a surprise.

“What?” said Cosmo, hands frozen over the piano keys. He’d been busy with a brand-new assignment; on the heels of The Dancing Cavalier, offers were pouring in and he’d taken the first one scoring a movie that didn’t star anyone he was secretly in love with.

Don had looked a little wounded when Cosmo broke the news last week, but a guy had to start making his own way in the world. Besides, orchestrating layers of strings to swell as the camera zoomed in on Don and Kathy blissfully locking lips in radiant monochrome, oblivious to the rest of the world—well, Cosmo knew that dance, he had mastered the footwork, and he didn’t especially feel like a reprise.

It wasn’t lost on him that Kathy had dropped by his rehearsal space alone today. Of course, he had no idea what this meant—he didn’t think it was about the new job; Don didn’t tend to stay sore at him for that long—but Kathy was acting perfectly natural, and so probably the smart thing was to follow her lead.

“It’s a two-week transatlantic cruise,” she said now, gracefully dropping beside him on the piano bench. “We thought it would be nice to see Europe, take in the sights, get away from all the cameras.”

“Ah yes, such a wallflower, our dear Don,” said Cosmo solemnly. “Besieged on all sides by the love of his public, a tragedy of our times, up there with Lear! Hamlet! Caesar! The one with all the Greeks and the giant wooden horse, nay, nay, neigh.” He played a tragic little trill, for effect. Kathy huffed a laugh and smacked his arm.

“You know that’s not it,” she said. “Being watched all the time—we can’t always do what we want. It’s rotten.”

Tell me about it, thought Cosmo.

He was sort of seeing a fight choreographer named Archibald, who came from old money and was a “the third” or a “the fifth” but nice enough Cosmo might even forgive him for that. Archibald was trim and athletic, with dark brown hair that was just starting to go gray at the temples and enough discretion that Cosmo didn’t think they’d get caught. The only problem was that he didn’t laugh at Cosmo’s jokes, seemed to just tolerate them.

“What do you two even talk about, then?” Don had asked, when Cosmo had let this slip over drinks the same night he’d explained about the new movie project. (Cosmo had been trying to spend less time with Don and Kathy since the wedding but Don had said, “C’mon, pal, we miss you” and Kathy had laid one hand on his arm and peered up at him with her big green eyes and Cosmo was only one man.)

Cosmo had frowned, because Don hated Archibald, for reasons that were frankly mysterious. Then he’d looked up and grinned a grin he didn’t exactly feel and said,

“Tell you when you’re older,” and then Don had choked on his dry Martini even though Cosmo knew Don knew about Cosmo’s tendencies. It wasn’t something they discussed, and Cosmo had never properly gone with a guy before, but whenever a big-shot producer started complaining about all the degenerate queers in showbiz, Don always sharply steered the conversation someplace else. It was all very gallant and noble and knightly, and someday Don would play King Arthur and Kathy his lady Guinevere—

“Honestly, sometimes it feels as if we’re living in a fishbowl,” said Kathy now, in the present.

“And so your solution is to relocate,” said Cosmo, “to the biggest fishbowl on this here magnificent earth. The mighty ocean!” He struck up a sea shanty. “Oh blow the man down, blow the man down / way ay, blow the man down…”

Not everyone appreciated his musical flights of fancy, but when Cosmo turned, she was leaning with her elbow on the side arm of the piano, watching him with her chin on her hand and laughing.

“Just for two weeks,” she said. “So, are you coming?”

“With you two,” said Cosmo, just so there could be no misunderstandings. “On your one and only honeymoon.”

“Yes,” said Kathy.

“As what, your first mate?”

“Sure.” She grinned and threw him a quick salute. Cosmo was almost never attracted to women but in this case, he understood the appeal.

He swallowed. “You are aware of that ancient saying, ‘Two’s company and three’s a fast track to divorce court’?”

“You’re hardly a threat to our marriage, Cosmo,” she said, and he agreed, of course, in both directions, even, but it still stung to hear her say it out loud. For want of anything better to do, he gasped, clutched a hand to his chest and reeled backwards so hard, he threw himself off the piano bench, landing in a somersault on the floor.

Kathy spun around fluidly on the bench to face him, pleated skirt whirling a little, heels of her shoes clicking together.

“Oh, I said that badly,” she said. “I only mean that it’s more fun when you’re around. We have a better time, Don and me both. Remember the night we decided to make Dueling Cavalier a musical?”

“Do I remember the best night of my life?” Cosmo peered up at her from the hardwood. “Why yes, madam, now that you mention it, I believe it might ring a bell or two.”

“The best—” She frowned for a moment, and he remembered then that as a newly married woman, a newly married woman to Don Lockwood, no less, she’d no doubt experienced any number of evenings that blew that one out of the water.

Even besides that, it felt awfully revealing all of a sudden. Cosmo threw an arm over his eyes. He felt naked. He wished he was naked, because that might at least distract from whatever his face was doing.

“So it beats your time with Archibald, then?” said Kathy shrewdly.

Cosmo uncovered his eyes. He forgot, sometimes, that new as Kathy was to the moving pictures business, she was still a city girl, with a city girl’s worldliness. Also, Don had probably told her; that seemed like the kind of second-hand secrets married people shared with each other. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Hardly a topic for mixed company,” he said.

There was a pause.

“So yes,” she said and smiled with a smugness that would’ve been unbecoming were she not as cute as a button.

“What do you and Don have against the poor man anyway?” he groused. “He’s never done so much as sneezed in your direction, and if he did, I’m sure he’d use a handkerchief.”

“For one thing, we know you could do better,” said Kathy, folding her arms.

Cosmo elbowed his way back to sitting, brushing himself off with dignity. “Well, better’s not exactly knocking on my door right now.”

“This town doesn’t have an ounce of sense.” She reached down to offer him a hand up, pulling Cosmo to his feet; she was stronger than she looked. “Listen, two weeks away, it’ll be good for you.”

“What about you two?” Cosmo protested as he reclaimed his spot on the bench, Kathy sliding to make room.

“What about us?” said Kathy with wide eyes.

“Two newlyweds might want some alone time?” he offered weakly.

Kathy shrugged. “I told you, there won’t be reporters or cameras. It’ll be plenty private.”

“What about your matrimonial needs?”

“Which needs?”

His eyes narrowed; she was a terrific actress but suddenly he wasn’t sure he was buying it. Kathy wasn’t dumb either.

“You have to know what I mean. Don’t make me play Cole Porter at you,” said Cosmo. She hesitated, and Cosmo began to pluck out a melody: “Birds do it, bees do it / even educated fleas do it…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Let’s do it,” sang Kathy, finishing the stanza in her lovely alto, “let’s fall in love.”

Cosmo stopped playing.

“I do know,” she said simply, “of course I do, and we’re not worried about it, alright? Listen, do you want to go?”

Cosmo, who had been carefully not asking himself that question, stared down at the piano keys. Did he want to go? He thought back to that night at Don’s, the three of them giddy with excitement and inspiration and sleep deprivation, running through the house, clowning around and dancing with no audience except each other—he hadn’t felt like a hanger-on then, like a third wheel or an extra limb or a chaperone. He’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, one note of a perfect chord.

Still.

“I can’t swim,” he said.

“They’ll have lifejackets,” said Kathy.

“I’ll have to work.”

“We’ll bring a piano.”

“All my houseplants will die,” said Cosmo.

“All your houseplants are fake,” she said. This was true, although he wasn’t sure how she knew since she’d never been to his house. She sighed. “Remember the night of that first screening, when you were about to expose Lina and instead of explaining what was happening, Don told me I had to sing, that I didn’t have a choice?”

He winced, thinking of Kathy’s heartbroken, tear-stained face before they’d pulled up the curtain and revealed who was really singing when Lina moved her lips.

“Yes, and I feel just awful about it.”

“Well, Don doesn’t,” said Kathy. “Because he knew it would take too long to convince me to do something that mean to her.”

“Mean?” Cosmo echoed. “She tried to trap you in a lifelong contract and steal your voice. A common sea witch wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“But there wasn’t time,” she pressed. “And anyway, he knew how it would end.”

“What’s your point?”

“We already bought your tickets,” said Kathy.

Cosmo gaped at her.

“We’ve cleared the trip with everyone at Monumental and anyway, like I said, we’ll have a piano on the boat.”

Distantly, he was aware his mouth was still hanging open. Kathy reached over with one light finger under his chin and gently closed it.

“That’s better,” she said, folding her hands daintily in her lap. It was around this time she seemed to realize it wasn’t some routine, that Cosmo really was well and truly stunned. “Of course, nobody is going to force you to go with us if you truly don’t want to,” she said into the silence.

“These tickets,” he said at last, “are they refundable?”

“Gosh,” said Kathy easily, “I can’t imagine they are, no.”

The thing was, none of them were hurting for money or work anymore, so the fact that Don and Kathy might be out even a few hundred dollars didn’t catch at him the way it might’ve some years earlier. No, the thought that really seized his imagination was the mental image of Don and Kathy planning this together, Don and Kathy discussing the matter with each other, maybe over breakfast—toast and coffee in their dressing gowns, so sure it was the right thing to do that they’d decided to just go ahead and make preparations: oh and a ticket for Cosmo, of course.

He could do it, he realized. He could go. He wanted to go. It was foolish, but Cosmo was an entertainer; he’d been doing foolish things in front of a roomful of witnesses since he was in shortpants.

“I’ll pack tonight,” he said.

“Perfect!” Kathy hopped off the bench and straightened out her dress. “And bring something nice to wear at dinner for a night or two; it doesn’t need to be black-tie formal, a good suit will do.”

He nodded. “I shall leave the top hat and monocle at home. Two weeks, you say?”

“Yes, and another half-day on either side flying to the harbor and back.” She reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “The itinerary,” she said. “Don and I are so glad you’ll be coming.”

“Uh-huh,” said Cosmo. “Say, where is that fella, anyway? What’s the big idea, can’t even stick around to ask his best pal to his own honeymoon?”

“He’s planning the trip,” said Kathy brightly. “Last-minute details. Anyway, he thought you and I should have a chat, one on one. He thought it might help.”

He blinked. “Help what?”

“Help us,” she said.

It was all starting to feel like a farce, like one of those old Vaudeville acts with a lot of fast talking.

“Did it?” he asked.

“I think so,” said Kathy warmly. She turned and began to walk towards the door. “See you at the airport tomorrow. Six AM sharp.”

“Six AM,” he said, and then, foolishly, “You know, I can see why he likes you.”

Kathy dimpled. “Oh, likewise!” She tossed him another smile and then she was heading out of sight down the hallway, shoes clacking rhythmically on the tile.

“Well,” said Cosmo to no one. He felt pole-axed, he decided. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt pole-axed in his life before, but there was no other word for it.

He played a chord, then another chord, then a few more.

“Pole-axed,” he sang, “out of whack, when you are near there’s only one drawback: I can’t be clever, no I lack the knack, Darling, I’m pole-axed, out of whack around you!”

It wasn’t exactly Cole Porter, but he’d take it, he thought, reaching for his pen. There was still an hour or two left before he’d need to race traffic home and dig out his suitcase. Apparently, he had early morning plans.

(ETA: if you didn't see, there is now a second part here!)

(ETA THE SECOND: the whole finished thing is now here!

#singin in the rain ot3 #i might write more idk but listen like you can probably imagine the rest of it #old-timey polyamorous shenanigans on a boat #pretty straightforward stuff #there's singing there's dancing and somehow don managed to 'accidentally' book cosmo in an adjoining bedroom etc etc

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gallusrostromegalus · 2 months ago

Note

Do you have any plans for what happens with Urahara's shop once Aizen is dealt with? I mostly ask cus the other day I binged the AIEWAM tag, then had a dream about the Shinigami using it as a base of operations in Karakura. I don't know if that is likely, or plausible, but it was fun to picture random shinigami doing customer service.

No that's more or less what happens to it!

After Aizen is dealt with, Urahara is facing some pretty significant personal problems: his rejection by the 12th division, being pregnant with his first child (and Yoruichi's nervous breakdown of impending parenthood) and Nihofornia's National Tax Agency finally catching up to him. As a shinigami, Urahara is aware of the many ways to shimmy around death, but there is no certainty like Taxes.

It's Don Kanonji, the most reasonable and level-headed adult in the whole damn fic, who proposes the solution: between his careers of swimsuit model, UN Translator, exorcist and fashion designer, Don is also a Certified Accountant. After going over she shoebox full of miscellaneous receipts and assorted Papers That Might Be Important, Don negotiates a deal with the tax agency around Kisuke's dubious status as a citizen and even more dubious bookkeeping: kisuke will sell the business to someone with a real social security number and pay up a large percentage of the staggering amount of money he owes in exchange for being allowed to rent the building from the new owners and continue his path to legitimate citizenship and no further financial chicanery.

"Okay, but who's going to pony up the cash? I don't have that kind of money!" Kisuke wails, fully in the grip of second-trimester hormone swings.

"Urahara-san. Kisuke. Sandalhat. Buddy. Pal." Ichigo's classmate Keigo sighs, fondly patting the man on the shoulders as he sat down on the couch beside Urahara. "We're friends, right?"

"We're people who know each other's home addresses." Kisuke sniffles.

"Close enough!" Mizuiro waves, sitting down on Urahara's other side. "-and you're former second division, real cloak-and-dagger stuff. So you know that sometimes it's best to not ask so many questions, right?"

Kisuke frowned with growing suspicion. "I might have been..."

"Great! All you need to do is make Tessai clean out the garage, turn the paperwork over to me and Mizuiro, keep an ear on the line to soul society, and focus on getting this place ready for your little bundle of joy-" Keigo smiled, gesturing around the decidedly bachelor padded living room.

"-and don't worry about where this came from!" Mizuiro chirped happily, hefting a large briefcase onto the table with a loud thud that popped open the lid, revealing a frankly alarming amount of cash inside.

"I'm worrying." Kisuke grimaced.

"We very specifically requested the opposite of that." Keigo pouted.

"That's at least thirty grand in there." Don remarked with a casual glance at the carefully packed but decidedly used bills inside.

"There is Thirty-one thousand, two hundred seventy-eight point oh-six Troyen, which is exactly two and a half times this shop's discretionary income last year, and a very generous price for the business!" Mizuiro beamed.

"Why can't you guys use a normal currency like Kan?" Kisuke pouted, trying to do conversion rates in his head.

"Well for one thing, fiat currency is a hell of a lot better than anything based on the value of rice." Keigo nodded. "Though it is kinda stupid that we didn't update the name after we went off the gold standard during world war three."

"There was a third world war?" Kisuke yelped.

"A cold one, back in the eighties. You didn't notice were busy making sure Isshin and Masaki Kurosaki didn't implode." Tessai called from the kitchen.

"Oh." Urahra mumbled.

"Look, it's really quite simple- you'll go on basically as you have been with the candy shop-" Mizuiro smiled with the soothing demeanor of an unexpected adder. "-only I'll be your landlord and Keigo will be your manager!"

Urahra stared blankly at the boys, then looked up at Don Kanonji, who was reading over the contents of the file folder Mizuiro had handed him when the boys came in. "...That can't possibly be legal, right?"

"Hm?" Don hummed, looking up over his glasses. "Oh, yes. The government would really prefer a check but cash is perfectly legal tender to settle all debts with."

"But they're kids!" Kisuke gestured hysterically between them.

"Okay, Mizuiro might be babyfaced but he turned eighteen last spring and I'll be an adult by the time we turn in all this paperwork in April." Keigo groaned.

"And- and this is clearly Mob Money!" Urahara continued, waving at the briefcase of cash.

"Mister Urahara! I would NEVER-!" Mizuiro gasped with great offense. "I'll have you know all this money came from Perfectly Legitimate Enterprises!" He sniffed, arms crossed and lip pouting.

"That's the name of the Mobile Tech Support business Mizu and I have been running since freshman year!" Keigo beamed. "Makes a good packet, you wouldn't believe the kind of tips the old biddies will give a Nice Young Man in a Smart Uniform who scrapes malware off her online mahjong machine!"

Urahara stared at them blankly, gaze slowly tipping down to the briefcase full of money. "I should learn how to use living world computers."

"NO." Every single person in the building, including the shop kids and Ichigo, who had been passed out under the table after training, but was stirred to consciousness by an impending sense of danger before passing out again.

"Killjoys." Urahra muttered, sulking under his hat.

"Regardless, its a perfectly legal and honestly very generous offer for this heap, and as your financial advisor, I urge you to take it." Don Kanonji glared over his glasses at Urahara.

"So what, you boys get a cut of the candy money and rent? Cause that ain't much of a savvy deal on your end. This place runs at a debt."

"Oh no, you can keep the candy revenue and I'll only ask for enough rent to cover utilities." Mizuiro smiled. "What we want is a cut of your commission as a licensed Gotei-13 outlet contractor!"

"...But I'm not a contractor?" Urahara blinked.

"...Do you just. Not read things before you sign them?" Keigo glared.

"Yeah, you're not just in hock to the NTA, the Soul Revenue Service is after you too for running a fake Gotei-13 service center, and bailing on a century's worth of filings by faking your death." Mizuiro frowned at him with concern. "So e of those papers you signed when you resumed your identity and job as captain- however briefly were the result of Captain Kyoraku cutting you one HELL of a parole deal with the SRS, but the agreement was that Urahara Shoten would be the base of operations for ALL the shinigami operating in Karakura, under the direct supervision and control of the Gotei-13 and he sure wasn't stingy with the budget he gave you! Well. The budget he gave me and Keigo to spend since I'd be the property owner and Keigo would be the business owner."

"Aaaand since you also signed the soul society official secrets agreement, it's not like you can ask someone else to buy you out from the NTA, so not only are we your best offer, we're your ONLY offer!" Keigo grinned.

Urahra stared at them blankly. "You've set me up." He mumbled.

"You sent yourself up for this when you failed to do your due diligence when signing contracts." Don Kanonji corrected him, pulling some documents out of the folder and signing them, before pushing them across the table. "Please actually read these before you si- you've already signed them." Don Kanonji groaned as Urahara slapped the pen back down on the table with spite.

"Fine, fine- I guess I'm back to following orders instead of giving them. What do you want, Boss?" He glared at Keigo.

"Put your feet up and finish putting together that gift list for the baby shower." Keigo nodded. "We weren't kidding that your first priority is getting this place ready for baby... Does it have a name yet?"

"...No." Kisuke wilted despondently. "Yoruichi still isn't answering my texts!"

"Hm." Keigo nodded. "Okay, put your feet up, finish that baby shower list and think of a name for the little rugrat. Just leave the rest to us for now!"

"You guys are good kids." Kisuke smiled weakly.

"Would you be willing to make a sworn statement to that effect, so we can have it on file for any future HR disputes?" Mizuiro smiled.

"Absolutely goddamn not." Kisuke glared.

#aeiwam #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #kisuke urahara #mizuiro kojima #keigo asano #Don Kanonji #yoruichi shihouin #Kisuke and Yoruichi are T4T in this fic and the prospect of parenthood is hitting her pretty hard #but she comes around sooner than later #she just needs to shake the generational trauma of growing up in a household of Ninjas and Ghosts

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trickphotography2 · 11 months ago

Text

we can't be friends (but i'd like to just pretend)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x unnamed female!reader, callsign Ladybug (story from Jake's POV)

Word count: 12.8k (sorry, it's a really long one)

Synopsis: Jake's not entirely sure how the bet came about other than being too drunk and maybe a little bored at the Fourth of July party. But after shaking on it with Yale, he agrees to help the new WSO - Ladybug - out with her crush on Rooster and figure out how to get the two of them to the Navy Ball together. With four months to get it done, it'll be simple. But when the reserved aviator is harder to get to know than expected, Jake has to push her to get out of her own way.

Written for @sorchathered Rom-Com challenge, with a prompt of She's All That

Warning: This fic does include angst (mentions of drunk driving and the aftermath, PTSD, loss of consciousness, and toxic men) with fluff

18+, minors DNI

Crossposted on Ao3 | My Masterlist

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The Hard Deck was busy for a Monday, which suited Jake just fine as long as he still had access to the dartboard and could flirt with some of the fresher faces while avoiding his previous mistakes. After a long day in the classroom, he was ready to let off some steam, and the pretty blonde thing by the bar looked like she’d do nicely.

Downing the rest of his beer, he threw his last three darts, ending the game against Coyote with a decisive win and making his way to the bar. Yale and Omaha were there, but the rest of the Daggers were huddled by the pool table. As he passed, he could hear Phoenix telling everyone about the new WSO she was sponsoring that was finally arriving after her orders got pushed back - he still didn’t understand why she volunteered for the extra duty. Sponsors were great, but unless you had kids, getting established on a new base wasn’t hard - show up on time, figure out your housing, and report to command ASAP. There was no need to have someone hold your hand through the process. But that was just his opinion. If Phoenix wanted to spend her spare time being pen pals with folks moving to San Diego and running around to help them get settled, more power to her.

Getting the blonde’s number was hardly a challenge, and she grinned at him while walking away to rejoin her friends. Jake motioned to Jimmy for another beer, and the older man quickly slid one over the counter. Moving closer to his fellow aviators, Jake leaned against the bar and surveyed the crowd. “Found yourself another tag chaser?” Yale chuckled, sipping his drink.

“Like shootin’ fish in a barrel,” Jake shrugged and smiled as the girl looked at him again. He threw a wink for good measure and saw how the friend group giggled.

The front door opened, and his eyes darted to the woman walking in. Even if she hadn’t been wearing her khakis, the god-awful birth control glasses that Bob also favored would have given her away as military. Jake let his gaze rake over the unfamiliar woman, clocking the double bars and wings as she looked around nervously. And then he heard Phoenix call out, and she looked up.

Omaha looked up from his drink, tracking the woman as well. “Shit,” he hisses through his teeth before lifting his glass and taking a swig. “That’s Ladybug?” Twisting, Jake watched her reach Phoenix, who seemed to be introducing her to the rest of the crew.

“Ladybug?” Yale asked, straightening from where he leaned against the bar. His eyes tracked her as she moved, barely hiding a sneer behind his drink.

“My new backseater,” Omaha sighed. Since Halo had gotten orders to Pensacola, the aviator had been waiting for his new WSO to arrive.

“And would you look at that - girl’s swingin’ way out of her league.” Even from across the bar, Jake could see Ladybug blushing as she talked to Rooster and reached up to adjust her glasses. Phoenix, standing between them, caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow. Smirking, he turned away, his attention settling back on the table of women who weren’t subtle about their looking at him. Lifting his beer, he grinned around the mouth of the bottle before slapping the bar and pushing away from it.

“If you’ll excuse me, gents - looks like I’ve got an audience.”

It was still early when he closed out his and Kristen’s tabs, and Jake reflexively looked back toward where the Daggers hung out. Most were still there, but he noted that Ladybug had already left. The scowl Phoenix shot him when she sensed his gaze let him know he’d get an earful tomorrow about not welcoming the new kid, but he’d deal with it.

“Ready?” Kristen purred, running her hand up his back as she came alongside him. Grinning down at her, he nodded before signing his receipt and shoving his wallet into his back pocket.

“Let’s get outta here.”

Weeks bled past, punctuated by a party at Payback’s for the Fourth of July. As the married man in the crew, the Fitch family was always happy to host.

And while Jake wasn’t purposefully keeping tabs on Ladybug - “Bug is fine,” she’d told everyone - he started to notice her absence more. While in the Ready Room, she often looked out the window and listened to the radio chatter while others played foosball and messed around. Omaha said she was good but missed Halo and joking around in the cockpit. Bob, Fanboy, and Phoenix seemed to be the only ones to get her to open up and crack a rare smile. She didn’t join them at lunch in the cafeteria or for drinks at the Hard Deck.

And every time Rooster got near her, she got flustered. Her usual reserve and cool seemed to disappear, and she either clammed up or rambled.

So, seeing her show up at the party with a fruit platter was surprising. Payback’s wife, Maria, quickly offered her a drink, and Bug joined Phoenix and her girlfriend, Kerri. From the grill, Jake watched as she mingled, and he wondered how she was wearing jeans on a day when the temperature was already reaching the mid-80s. Most of the other women had opted for shorts or summer dresses - god, he loved summer dress season - but Bug’s only concession to the heat seemed to be a short-sleeved shirt and occasionally pressing her cold soda can to her neck.

“I gotta ask,” Kerri said, her arm looping through Bug’s as they walked into the kitchen to grab food. “What’s the story behind Ladybug? Nat told me there’s always a story behind the callsign.” While assembling his burger, Jake found himself listening to their conversation.

“I, uh… I worked with a lot of…new… pilots when I was starting. There were a couple of close calls and,” she shrugged. “Ladybugs are good luck.”

“Shit,” Rooster said, glancing up from spooning pasta salad onto his plate. He grinned, a sunburn already appearing on his face. “I remember you on the Ford now - you were the WSO with the kid just out of FRS who panicked when his landing gear got stuck and nearly skidded into the ocean.”

Bug’s eyes were big behind her glasses as she flushed, pouring chips onto the table when she missed her plate. Quickly, she set the bag down and cleaned up her mess while muttering, “Yeah.”

“Damn. That was a bad one - thought he was gonna ram the back of the carrier at first.” Rooster put down his plate and lifted his hands to demonstrate. “I heard the pilot started descent without realizing his front gear wasn’t down, missed the tailhook, and almost didn’t accelerate fast enough to recover. They circled and had to dump fuel while they got the barricades up, but they came in too low and nearly clipped the back of the ship before finally skidding in.”

“Jesus!” Kerri said, looking at Bug. “Seriously?”

“It was his first carrier landing,” the woman replied with a shrug. “He got better.”

“After we all had to sit through a lecture on the basics of landing,” Rooster smirked while grabbing his plate and throwing a wink at Bug, who flushed bright red. “Didn’t you both have to sit front and center for that one?”

“It was a good refresher.”

“He still flying?” Jake asked, biting into a carrot stick. Bug’s eyes flashed with something before her gaze dropped to her plate.

“Not anymore,” she said softly, quickly heading back outside with her plain burger and a handful of chips. He and Rooster exchanged glances as Kerri got a worried look on her face.

The drinks flowed, and Jake enjoyed himself as he hung out with his buddies. As fun as it was to have Mav around, it was also really nice when the soon-to-be-Admiral chose to hang out with his wife and stepdaughter, allowing the younger crowd to cut loose. Payback and Maria had already offered anyone who'd drank too much a safe space to crash, and Jake would take advantage of it. He and Yale went shot-for-shot in beer pong, and his tongue was red from the jello shots he’d consumed.

“She’s delusional,” Yale slurred, punching Jake’s arm and pointing to where Bug and Rooster were chatting. “Not hot ‘nough to pull an aviator.”

“She’s an aviator too, dick,” Jake rolled his eyes, watching as Bug pressed her cold soda can to her throat. The movement shifted her shirt, and he could see that she had the beginning of a sunburn on her arms. Squinting, he stared at the raised red line that reached the middle of her bicep, and, as though feeling his gaze, she looked at him. Her eyes darted down to her arm, and she quickly adjusted her sleeve to hide it, her face flushing.

“Oooh, Hangman’s gotta crush on Bug!” He rolled his eyes at the immaturity, sipping his beer and anticipating the hangover he’d have in the morning for mixing alcohol.

“You’re drunk. She’s a decent WSO and keeps Omaha’s dumbass alive.” And that was true. As much as he never wanted a backseater, he couldn’t help but notice how methodical Bug was. She was the first on the flight line doing her pre-flight checks, talking to the flight crew and mechanics about anything that felt off in the jet. She took thorough notes during a mission brief and conferred with the other WSOs to triple-check things before heading out. He knew that Mav was keeping an eye on her, probably vetting her for a reference to a test program.

The conversation shifted, and Jake could feel his tongue getting looser the more he drank. That was how he was somehow talked into a dumb bet - that Bug would catch Rooster’s eye and go to the Navy Ball with him.

And Jake would help.

Bug left the party before night fell, missing the impressive fireworks and sparklers they set off in the front yard. They had to brush debris from their hair and use the hose to put out minor fires in the grass, but thankfully, the only injuries were minor burns.

As he lay on Payback’s couch, Jake closed one eye to stop the room from spinning when his phone started going off. He ignored the few messages asking what he was doing and if he wanted to come over, wishing he was sober enough to drive home instead of listening to Yale’s snoring.

As much as Jake wanted to forget his drunken bet with Yale, the other pilot was adamant they followed through because he’d shaken on it. And, never one to back down from a challenge, he reluctantly agreed.

His first step was reconnaissance. With four months until the Navy Ball, he knew he had enough time to enact his plan once he figured it out. He knew Rooster and the type of women he usually dated. And it wasn’t that Bug was unattractive, just that she seemed not to give a shit what she looked like. Which wasn’t great because Rooster usually dated women who did. They wouldn’t have been caught dead in public without a perfect face of makeup, while Bug seemed content with eyeliner, not even bothering to hide the pimples that occasionally decorated her face. The few times he saw her off duty, she favored comfortable clothes over cute, and he never saw her hair out of anything but the regulation bun or a ponytail.

However, Jake's most significant obstacle was her confidence. While Bug had no problems with her confidence regarding her job, the moment the conversation strayed outside anything to do with work, she seemed anxious. And if she was going to get Rooster’s attention, that would need to change.

The first thing he had to do, though, was to gain her trust. Without that, she wouldn’t hear him out on any of his suggestions.

Which was why he found himself approaching her at lunch after seeing her sitting outside at one of the few tables under the trees that the smokers usually used during breaks. She looked down at her phone, occasionally tapping the screen as she picked at her lunch. “Mind if I join you?” Jake asked, not bothering to wait for her answer before tossing his heated-up chicken and rice onto the table and sitting. Bug gave him a surprised look but returned her attention to her phone, eyes occasionally flicking toward him as he ate and watched her finish her apples, cheese, and crackers. She blushed every time their eyes met, and he noticed she wasn’t tapping her phone as much. He was about to say something when she frowned, tossed her apple back into her lunch container, and tucked the phone to her ear.

“Hey, gimme a second.” With a tight smile, Bug gathered her things and shoved them into her lunch bag, slipping it over her arm before standing and walking away.

Jake tried again the next day, only to find that Bug wasn’t at the table. Instead, he saw her walking around the building with her headphones in, her flight suit tied around her waist, and one of her sleeves pushed up. On the third day, he beat her to the table and saw her pause when she caught sight of him. “I don’t bite, Bug,” he called out and saw her shoulders tense. Her gaze was guarded as she trudged to the table and sat, not saying a word as she pulled out her container of apples, cheese, and crackers with flavored water. His eyes darted over her meal as she opened the container. “So what’d’ya think about the new group of trainees?”

Her hand froze as she dug in her pocket, eyes slowly lifting to meet his. “They’re cocky.” Her answer made him smirk as he reached across the table to grab a hunk of cheese from her lunch. “Hey!”

“We were all cocky when we got here. The instructors and Adversary students will beat it outta them.” Bug gave him an incredulous look as he popped the cheese in his mouth and grinned.

“Clearly, they didn’t beat it out of everyone.” The steely look she gave him was the most animated he’d seen her. She slapped the back of his hand when he reached for a cracker. “You have your own lunch, Hangman.”

“That’s not a lunch, Bug, that’s a kid’s snack. You need protein.” She ignored him and pulled out her phone, tapping on the screen. Chuckling, he opened his lunchbox and took out his meal, stirring the chicken and rice together. He watched her as he ate, smirking every time he caught her glancing at him and noting the rising blush on her cheeks. “Why do you hide out here?” he asked.

“I hardly think sitting outside the office is hiding,” came her clipped response.

“It is if you’re avoiding your squad.”

“Maybe I just like peace and quiet while I’m eating.”

“And scrolling social media.”

“I’m not - ” Bug lowered her phone enough for him to glance at the screen, seeing it covered in text. “I just like to read in silence, okay? Do you mind?” Jake shrugged and didn’t say anything for a few minutes until he finished eating, his fork clattering in the glass container as he tossed it down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“What are you reading?”

“A book.”

“Is it any good?”

“It’s hard to tell when someone keeps interrupting me.”

“What type is it?”

“An e-book.”

“No,” he chuckled. “History? Non-fiction? Biography?” The faded blush roared back, and she refused to meet his gaze. His grin grew as he asked, “Is it a sex book?”

Bug locked her phone and set it face down on the table. Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted her chin, lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want, Hangman?”

“Nothin’. Just trying to get to know my new squadmate.”

“You don’t have to know me,” she snapped, shoving her things into her lunch bag. “I already have a sponsor and a pilot.” Startled by her response and the tears glistening in her eyes, he pushed to his feet as she stood.

“Bug - ”

“Just leave me alone, Hangman.”

For as close as the squad worked together, Bug was good at holding herself apart from the team. After slipping a note into her locker with a quickly jotted ‘Sorry’ and feeling like he’d regressed to high school, Jake left her alone. Losing a bet wasn’t worth being an asshole and causing a rift in team dynamics.

But while she was ignoring him, it was good to see that she was at least talking to Phoenix. And, every once in a while, Rooster, who still seemed oblivious to her crush. Jake tried not to look at Yale whenever the two interacted, not wanting to see the mocking eye-roll the other aviator would send his way. The way she’d blushed and tripped over her boots when Rooster patted her shoulder after a run where Omaha managed to get tone on him with her guidance was enough for Yale to go on a ten-minute tear about her at the Hard Deck.

Jake had walked away. He hadn’t even stayed long enough to pick someone up and went back to his apartment, wondering what the hell Yale had against Bug.

An August rainstorm drove Bug inside to the cafeteria, and Bob waved her over to join them. The only seat left was between Jake and Rooster, and she reluctantly settled between them and opened her salad. Jake was happy to see bits of grilled chicken in it but forced himself not to say anything. He was relieved that Yale, Harvard, and Fritz had decided to go to the food court for lunch so he wouldn’t have to witness how Bug kept herself apart, how she picked at her food, and how her eyes were downcast. When Phoenix mentioned the upcoming beach trip, she didn’t hear the offer to join until Rooster nudged her, brow furrowing in concern.

“Yeah, sure,” she murmured, not seeming to realize what she agreed to.

Later, when they were in the desk farm, Jake saw Bug jump out of her seat and leave quickly, phone pressed to her ear.

And Yale glared at her while looking up from his phone.

Bug needs help and you’re the closest. Here’s her address.

Jake stared at his phone as he sat at a red light. Halfway to the beach, he quickly flicked his blinker to pull a U-turn and head back toward his house. Bug only lived a few streets away from him, in one of the apartment complexes that had gone up over the last year.

He spotted her standing by her car, phone pressed to her ear and lower lip between her teeth. Jake frowned when he drove behind her, seeing the tilted vehicle. Rather than pulling into a spot, he parked behind her and hopped out to see that two tires were slashed. Her eyebrows rose behind her glasses when she saw him, and she quickly spun to avoid his concerned gaze, her floor-length floral skirt fluttering.

“Whatever is closest, I don’t care,” she said, and he could hear the barely constrained tears in her voice. “Yeah, two tires…. Alright, thank you.” He crouched and ran his finger over the puncture mark on the back tire, glancing up to see that Bug’s shoulders were up by her ears.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I told Phoenix that I didn’t need anyone here.”

“Someone slashed your tires.”

“It happened to a few people last night,” she shrugged, slowly turning to face him. “It’s an annoyance, but nothing I can’t handle on my own.”

“Was that the insurance company?”

“Yeah. They’re going to tow it to a garage for me.”

“Alright, how long are they gonna be?”

“They said an hour, which probably means two. You should go and enjoy the beach.”

“I’m not going, Bug. Did you call the police?”

“They’re the ones who let me know it happened. One of my neighbors called them after he came out and saw his slashed.”

“So you’ve got the report number?” When she nodded, he ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’m gonna move my truck.”

“Hangman, I’m serious - ”

“So am I. I can sit in my truck or wait by your car, or we can go inside, but I’m not leaving until they get your car. And then we can go to the beach.”

“I’m not going to the beach.”

“We’ll see.” Bug’s lips pressed into a thin line as she crossed her arms, hip cocking to one side. He smiled at the sight, eyes snagging on the red scar on her arm. With his sunglasses on, she didn’t notice.

Her apartment was nice, in the ‘recently moved in and haven’t fully unpacked’ way. As she grabbed some water, he looked at the cart of books sitting by her couch. One caught his eye, and he flipped to a random page.

Patroclus is breathing harder than the effort to hold our princess down requires, and his cock is so stiff, it’ll be a fucking miracle if he doesn’t come just from foreplay. It’s fine if he does. We have all of tonight and tomorrow.

“What are you doing?”

Jake looked up from the book and grinned, holding it so the cover faced her. “I didn’t realize you were reading porn at lunch.”

“It’s not porn,” she snapped, reaching for the book. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he held the book higher and read aloud.

“I plan on tucking these two in for some rest after I fuck the worry out - oof!” He doubled over when her fist collided with his stomach, not enough to hurt but to startle him. Face bright red, Bug snatched the book from his hand and returned it to the cart, standing protectively in front of it. “That’s definitely porn,” Jake chuckled. “Good for you. Didn’t take you for a threesome kinda girl - ”

Bug let out a strangled sound before she lunged forward to press her hands to his mouth. “Will you shut the fuck up, Hangman?” Fighting back the urge to lick her palm, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand from his mouth, unable to keep from grinning.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Bug. I won’t tell anyone that you avoid talking to us so you can spend your lunch reading sexy - ”

“Thanks for stopping by; now get the hell out of my house,” she cut him off, ripping her hand out of his hold and pressing it to his shoulder, trying to turn him toward the door. He shook her off, choosing to collapse onto the couch instead. She glared at him briefly before sighing heavily as he reached for one of the water glasses she’d dropped onto the coffee table. Sitting on the opposite side, she grabbed the other glass and ran her thumb through the condensation already forming on the sides. “You really don’t have to stay. The tow driver’ll take care of my car, and I don’t feel like going to the beach after this.”

“‘M startin’ to get the feeling that you don’t like us, Ladybug.” While his tone was teasing, Jake meant every word. “You don’t eat with us, you won’t go to the Hard Deck, and now you’re avoiding a beach day? Those are pretty much mandatory for the squadron.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes, and Bug’s teeth dug into her lower lip. “I… I don’t dislike you guys. I just… there’s a lot of stuff that - ” Her cell started vibrating on the coffee table. Jake’s eyes shot to it, catching the name RISK and seeing a picture of a guy in a flight suit, smirking up at the camera and flipping it off. Bug snatched the phone up, eyes darting toward him. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” Quickly, she stood while answering it and walking toward her bedroom. “Hey, how’s it - ”

The door closed, muffling her voice. Jake stared at it momentarily before pushing to his feet and walking to the fridge to get a refill. While the rest of the apartment was pretty bare, the refrigerator was covered in magnets from across the world, puns about books, a few bills, and a couple of pictures. He recognized the man from her phone screen as the one with one arm around Bug and her head on his shoulder as they sat in the shadow of an F-18’s wing, hair a tangled mess with her helmet between her knees and a pair of glasses with brown frames perched on her nose. They were there in a group, Bug laughing while sitting on his shoulders and his fingers digging into her thighs to hold her steady at an outdoor concert, the hem of her dress sitting on his head. There were pictures of a softball team, Bug grinning with a bat resting on her bare shoulder.

And Jake realized it was the first time he’d seen her smile like that.

That thought irked him. And it definitely didn’t make him pay more attention to the calendar hanging in the kitchen. Sipping his water, his eyes darted over her small, neat handwriting, and his brows furrowed. Risk’s PT. Deposition. PCP follow-up. Chiro follow-up. FS reassessment.

When the bedroom door opened, he was back on the couch, reading one of Bug’s books. Her eyes were red when she stepped out, and he clocked the fake smile. “Tow truck driver just called and said he’s pulling in.” When her eyes landed on the book in his hand - the Kiss Quotient - color rose in her pale cheeks.

“Good timing. We’ll get that taken care of and head out. Harvard’s already texted me a list of things people forgot, so we’ll grab those at the store on the way.”

“Hangman - ”

“Bug.” It was his turn to cut her off, the playful tone absent in his voice. “Come on. Give us a chance. If nothing else, Rooster’ll be there.”

“Why would - ”

“I’m borrowing this, by the way,” he added, raising the book and tucking it under his arm while walking to slip on his shoes.

“What? No - you don’t want - ” The front door shut behind him, and Jake couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Bug open the door and call for him to stop. He ignored it, going to greet the tow truck driver.

It was hard not to pay attention to Bug after that day at the beach. She’d declined every offer to play a game, instead sitting on her towel and reading. She didn’t even change into a bathing suit - choosing to wear that long skirt that covered all but the tops of her feet and a t-shirt that gave her a farmer’s tan. The most skin she showed was a flash of ankle when she walked along the water with Kerri, pausing to pick up shells occasionally as Rooster and Phoenix trailed them. Jake tried not to pay too much attention when, on the way back, Kerri and Phoenix pulled ahead, leaving Rooster and Bug walking side by side and chatting.

But she stayed through the late afternoon retreat to the Hard Deck, sipping cranberry juice and ginger ale. When she stood beside Rooster as he pulled his usual party trick of playing the piano, Jake tried not to notice how her skirt and his hideous Hawaiian shirt almost matched and pay attention to the woman chatting him up. He saw Bug looking at her phone a few times but only slipped away twice before calling it a night. She declined his offer to drive her home when he managed to shake off the woman - Jackie? - for a few minutes, and said goodbye to everyone instead of disappearing as usual.

And now that he was watching, he noticed how frequently she left work early on days they weren’t in the air. The occasional wince when she turned too quickly to look at something, and how she sometimes favored her left side toward the end of the day. The handful of over-the-counter painkillers she took after they did PT and drove home before hitting the showers.

She didn’t join them at lunch every day, but she started to make appearances, even though she mostly stayed quiet and frequently left to answer a phone call before the end of the break. And Jake found himself seeking her out at the smoker’s table. After he returned her book, teasing her mercilessly about the explicit sex scenes in the story, she just put in her headphones and flipped him the bird before going for a walk.

He wouldn’t admit it, but the book had been hot. And it made him wonder what else Bug was reading, face blank as she sat across from him.

The only one who seemed unhappy about the change was Yale. Jake caught the aviator watching her through narrowed eyes a handful of times and noticed how she went out of her way to avoid him. When he asked Bug about it, she just shrugged and changed the topic.

The only activity she had yet to do was a night at the Hard Deck, so Jake found himself standing at her front door, grinning at her confused expression. “We’re going out,” he said, reaching over her head to open the door wider and inviting himself inside.

“What? No, bra hours are done.” Laughing, he kicked off his shoes and spun, planting his hands on his hips. She crossed her arms over her chest, making the thin material of her t-shirt cling to the swell of her breasts and a thin strip of skin appear over the waistband of her sweatpants.

“Come on, Bug. You need to do a Hard Deck night with us. Everyone’s gonna be there in a few, and it’ll be fun.” When she stared at him, he forced his smile to not falter. “You can’t tell me you didn’t have fun the two times you’ve been there before.”

“I…” she paused and took a deep breath, eyes pinching behind her glasses. “I appreciate the invitation, Hangman, but I want a quiet night. I’m exhausted and - ”

“Just a couple of hours. Have a few drinks, play some pool, and then I’ll bring you home. Promise.” The longer he looked at her, the more his smile faltered. So he played his ace - “Rooster’ll be there.”

Her brows knit together for a moment before her expression cleared. “I’ll give you one hour,” she sighed.

“Three.”

“I’m not putting my bra back on for three hours. Two or no deal.”

“You’ve got it. As long as you wear something other than jeans.”

“What’s wrong with jeans?” she demanded, squeaking in protest when he pushed past her into her bedroom. He flicked on the light, glancing quickly at her unmade bed and rumpled sheets before moving toward her closet. “Do you even know what boundaries are?”

He quickly flicked past her flight suits and uniforms, finding what he was looking for in the back of her closet. Grabbing the hanger, he grinned while turning to see Bug’s scowl. “Wear this,” Jake said, trying to hand her the hanger holding a sundress. She stared at it, eyes slowly raising to meet his.

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“You’ll look hot in it.”

“I’m wearing jeans or nothing.”

“Not sure why you’d be naked instead of wearing a dress, but I’m not opposed.” She blushed, shaking her head.

“Goodnight, Hangman. Thanks for stopping by, but I’m tired.” Jake sighed her name, making her eyebrows shoot up. He’d never called her that before, and he wasn’t sure why he did it now. She was always Bug or Ladybug.

“Wear the dress. Come out and have fun with your friends. Please?” Their gazes met, and he could see the conflict in her eyes. And, after a long moment, she reached out to take the hanger. Their fingers brushed, and he tried to keep his eyes trained on hers but couldn’t help but notice how her breathing had increased. The slight tightness around her mouth as she blinked quickly. And the subtle way her body trembled.

“I-I’m going to jump in the shower.”

When the bathroom door closed, Jake had the urge to knock on it and tell her she didn’t have to wear the damn dress. That she could go in her sweatpants and he wouldn’t care. That he was an idiot for asking, Yale’s reminder about their bet ringing in his ears as he drove past her street. She didn’t have to wear a damn dress to get Rooster’s attention, and she shouldn’t have a crush on a guy who was so oblivious.

Instead, he walked back to the kitchen, opened the cupboards until he found a glass, and helped himself to some water. He stared at that picture of Bug on the man’s shoulders. Her eyes nearly closed behind her glasses with how broadly she smiled, one hand holding a cowgirl hat to her head, the other thrown out to keep herself steady with a beer clutched in her hand.

Jake couldn’t believe that Rooster wouldn’t remember a girl like that. Even without the makeup and smiles, there was no mistaking Bug. Behind those birth control glasses, he could still see glimpses of that woman in the WSO. And it bothered him not to know what had happened to dim that shine.

He was a few chapters into another book he’d plucked off the cart when he heard the shower turn off, the blow dryer starting a few minutes later. Jake glanced at his phone to check the time, ignoring the texts asking where he was and if he was going to the Hard Deck. Instead, he set his phone beside him. He settled on the couch, leaning against the arm and making himself comfortable as he read about a group of guys who got together and read romance books to save their relationships.

Jake was lost in Gavin and Thea’s story when he heard a throat clear. Sitting up quickly, he spun in his seat, jaw nearly dropping at the sight of Bug. But not his Bug - the Bug from the picture, standing in her doorway with a teasing smirk on her red lips and uncertainty in her eyes. She shifted under his open admiration, hand lifting to adjust the glasses that she wasn’t wearing. “Let me guess, you’re gonna borrow that one too?”

“I…uh… yeah,” he nodded, moving to stand before her. She hadn’t pulled her hair back into its usual bun or ponytail, leaving it down so it curled against her shoulders. Jake let his gaze dance down her body, and Bug’s shoulders pulled back under his blatant inspection, inadvertently drawing his attention to her breasts pressing against the sweetheart neckline of her dress. When she crossed her arms, his attention went to the raised red scar on her right arm, and he had to stop himself from reaching out and tracing it with his fingertips. It was about the width of a pencil, curling from the top of her shoulder to the middle of her bicep. Sensing her discomfort, he tore his gaze away, allowing it to drift lower. Her dress skimmed the top of her knees, and he bit back a groan at seeing cowboy boots on her feet, red scars decorating the skin on display.

Bug’s hand was clenched tightly around a jean jacket, and Jake could feel the discomfort radiating off her. But she met his eyes when they lifted. He wasn’t a makeup expert, but he could appreciate how her eyeshadow and winged eyeliner complemented her eyes, and he found it heartening that he could still see the little divot on her nose from her glasses. “Can you even see without your BCGs?” Jake asked after clearing his throat.

The apprehension drained from her face at his gentle teasing, and Bug scoffed while rolling her eyes. “I hate wearing contacts, but I’ll put up with it for a couple of hours.” Shaking his head, he reached for her jacket and took it, holding it out to help her slip it on. His fingers accidentally grazed her neck, and he caught the subtle scent of something floral when she turned toward him. His eyes went to her lips like they were a painted target, and her voice was a little breathier than usual when she spoke. “I’ll meet you there?”

“I’ll drive,” he answered, voice husky as he stepped back.

“I’ll drive so you can have a couple of drinks.”

He shook his head, digging into his jeans pocket for his keys. “You can be my WSO tonight and pick the music, but I’m driving.” That made her roll her eyes, and Jake had to force himself not to stare at her ass as she walked in front of him out of the apartment and down to his waiting truck.

In the dark interior of his truck, he could smell her perfume and gripped the shifter to keep from placing his hand on the expanse of her thigh that flashed in every streetlight they drove under. Seemingly oblivious to his struggle, she sang along to a 90s station about kissing in the moonlight.

And, once they were outside the Hard Deck, she paused, her hand slipping into his for a fleeting moment. He could feel her shaking and squeezed her fingers before she let him go and stepped into the bar.

Everyone would have paused to witness the not-improved-by-different Bug if it had been a movie. But no one seemed to notice them enter, and Jake reclaimed her hand to help tow her through the weekend crowd to where he knew the Daggers would be waiting. And that was where Bug got the recognition she deserved, when Kerri catcalled her, making a flush rise on her cheeks as Phoenix’s girlfriend took her hand and dragged her from Jake, encouraging her to do a little twirl. He saw a couple of glances at her scars, but thankfully, no one said anything.

And Jake spent the night catching men checking her out, but Bug remained oblivious. When he went to the bar to get them some sodas - he overheard a conversation from two pilots about not recognizing her. “Now that’s the Bug I remember,” Rooster said as he joined him at the counter, setting down his empty beer bottle. Jake glanced at his wingman and nodded as they watched her laugh at something Omaha said to her and Fanboy.

“Hey, Jake,” a somewhat familiar voice said, and he felt a hand on his lower back. A woman slid into the vacant spot beside him, smiling coyly. “Long time no see. Wanna buy me a drink and catch up?”

For his life, he couldn’t put a name to her face, but he was pretty sure they’d slept together. Beside him, Rooster snorted and ordered his beers. Jake tore his gaze away from the woman and caught Penny before she left. “I’ll get two Cokes, please.”

“That’s not my usual,” she giggled.

“No, it’s my friend’s,” he replied. He shouldn’t have enjoyed the shocked look on her face, but he felt relieved when her hand lifted, and she disappeared into the crowd.

But when he looked over to see what Bug was up to, she’d also disappeared. When he returned to the group, Bob said she’d stepped onto the patio to take a phone call. Jake sipped his soda and tried not to keep glancing at his watch, but his eyes darted to the back door. Yale arrived, pressing a beer bottle into his hand as they played darts, and he didn’t think before drinking it.

Forty minutes had passed when he finally decided to look for her. The late September night was still relatively warm, but it was breezy by the water. The laughs were loud on the patio, but he didn’t see her at the tables. The parking lot lights spilled out onto the beach, and Jake caught sight of a flash of color in the corner of his eyes. His feet moved before he realized it, shoes sliding in the soft sand. As he neared, he could see Bug had removed her boots, her forearm across her raised knees as she curled into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. “It’s okay, Risk,” her voice was soft, and he could hear her sniffle. The sound made him move faster, shrugging off his bomber jacket as he neared.

Sensing his approach, Bug lifted her head, and his heart broke at the sight of tears on her cheeks as she talked on the phone. In the weak moonlight, he mouthed, “You okay?” She looked at him for a long moment before shaking her head, letting her forehead drop back onto her arm. Jake hesitated a heartbeat before draping his jacket across her shoulders and sitting beside her. The sand was cool, and he rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his wrist and trying not to listen to Bug’s call over the crash of the waves.

“Risk, I… yeah. But it’s getting… I need to…” she heaved a weary sigh, digging her nails into her shoulder. “I’m going to go, alright? We can talk tomorrow and… I told you, I'm with some friends toni - ” The voice on the other side of the line got loud, and she lifted her head to swipe at her eyes. “No, I’m not fucking any of them, Risk.” The words made his blood boil, but Bug just sounded so tired. “I’ll talk to you - alright, good… I know you’re upset, but I ne - please don’t say that…Risk, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

They were silent for a long time, the only sounds were Bug’s occasional sniffles and the tide coming in. A weight hit his bicep, and Jake turned to see that she’d rested her head on his shoulder. He lifted his arm, tugging her closer. She was trembling, and he knew it wasn’t from the cold. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he didn’t push.

“Risk is…was,” Bug said, voice rough with suppressed emotion, “my pilot before I got here. W-we were really close.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say that didn’t give him a right to say that to her, but her next words froze him. “We were in a bad car accident coming h-home from my going away party.”

“How bad?” Jake asked, not wanting to know the answer.

“Bad. We were t-boned by a drunk driver and - ” she gasped, letting him pull her closer when she started to shake. “Rolled a few times.” Her hand lifted to touch her temple. “I woke up, and everything was upside down. I hit my head so hard that my glasses broke. But I was lucky. Just had a concussion and cuts from crawling out of the glass. Risk wasn’t… he…he was turned to look at me when we got hit, and he took the brunt of it.”

“Is he okay?”

Bug shook her head, tears dripping off her face as she stared at the water, her voice sounding distant. “Paralyzed from his chest down. The docs think he might get some feeling back, but he’ll never walk again. Never fly again. They’re med boarding him out for that and the TBI.”

“Fuck.”

“One minute we were having drinks and he was telling me he was in love with me, and the next everything was literally upside down.” It was his turn to tense.

“D-did… do you love him?”

“Like a brother.” Jake nodded, pushing away the feeling of relief at her words. His heart cracked when he heard her soft sob. “He’s so angry with me. He doesn’t remember the crash, but I do. I think I was conscious for the first two rolls, and…he was so still. I thought he died. I thought I’d lost my best friend and couldn’t do anything to help him.” Acting on instinct, he pulled her into his arms, her knees digging into the sand by his hips as he held her. He could feel her warm tears on his neck as his hand swept her back, holding her tightly.

But while he half expected her to fall to pieces, Bug just let out these little hiccupping sobs that broke his heart. “I’ve gotcha,” he said, whispering her name as his lips brushed her hair.

“I should have let them ground me.” The words were so quiet he would have missed them if they weren’t so close. “I had to leave the day after he woke up. I stayed as long as I could, Hangman, I swear. But the flight surgeon cleared me for duty, and I had orders. I had to come here.”

“You had orders,” he echoed. “He can’t blame you for that.” When she nodded, he repeated himself. “He can’t blame you for that, Bug.”

“He feels like I abandoned him. That I left my wingman. I-I figured you all would feel the same way… Yale does.”

“What does Yale have to do with this?”

“He was in our squadron before he got stationed here.” A chill ran down Jake’s spine, bits of information slotting into place. It was quickly replaced with anger.

Gently, he pulled away from Bug until he could meet her watery gaze. Her eyes were guarded, exhaustion etched in every feature as he ran his thumb across her cheeks to try and clear away the mess of her makeup. “You did nothing wrong, honey. And no one can blame you for what happened - the accident or you being here. Understood?” When her eyes lowered, unable to meet his, he cupped her cheek and raised her head. “Understood?”

“Did you drink?” His stomach dropped, tasting the beer Yale had given him on his tongue, smelling it on his breath.

“Just one.” Bug nodded, bracing her hands on his shoulders and pushing to her feet. It took everything in him not to stop her, his hands sliding to her hips as she looked down at him.

“I’m gonna get a car.”

“I can drive - ”

“No.” He let his hands fall to the sand, hating himself for forgetting his promise. “It’s fine. You should stay and have fun.”

As much as it killed him, he waited with her in the parking lot for her car to arrive, wanting to pull her into his arms but resisting the urge. But when she tried to give him his jacket, he pushed it back into her hands. “I’ll get it later and grab yours before I leave.”

Bug nodded, saying as she slid into the backseat, “Thanks for tonight, Hangman.” He waited until the tail lights had pulled out of the parking lot before turning and making his way into the Hard Deck.

He wanted to get the hell out of there and pushed his way to the counter to close out his tab. Bug’s jacket was by the pool tables, and he threw down the pen to retrieve it after signing his receipt. Fury rose in him as he spotted Yale laughing with Harvard and Omaha. Without thinking, he stalked toward him, shoving the other aviators out of the way to grab him by his collar and pushed until Yale’s back hit the wall. Jake ignored the ‘Hey!’s and ‘Whoa!’s, the hands trying to pull him away as he leaned close to hiss, “You leave her the fuck alone, hear me? Leave her alone, or I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Hands curled around him, yanking him away, and Rooster banded an arm around his chest while Harvard stepped between them, holding back his pilot. The bar quieted in anticipation of a fight, but Jake only had eyes for Yale, who grinned. “Finally told you, huh? So much for never leaving a man behind.”

Rooster pulled hard, Payback catching his arm when he raised his fist. “Come on, man,” Rooster grunted, hauling him away. “It’s not worth it.”

He grit his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose as he shook off the other men. Grabbing Bug’s jacket, he stormed out of the bar, avoiding Penny and Mav’s gaze and the whispers that followed.

Bug’s jacket sat on his front seat as Jake drove into work on Monday. He’d texted to check on her over the weekend, but she told him she was okay and didn’t want to see anyone. His phone had been blown up with the other Daggers trying to figure out what happened on Friday, but Jake didn’t know how to tell them without sharing Bug’s story - and that wasn’t his to tell.

The morning briefing was short, and they were dismissed to the Ready Room to prepare for their flights. Jake was going up in the first group. But before he headed out to the flight line, he stopped Bug on her way out of the classroom. “I’m fine,” she said, answering his unasked question. He could see the dark circles under her eyes and the silent request for him to not say anything. So he didn’t. Other than telling her that her jacket was in his car, Jake asked if she’d brought lunch or a kid’s snack. That earned him a tired smile, and she said she would have to buy lunch today.

But they wouldn’t get that opportunity.

Bug went up in the second group, and Jake listened to the radio chatter while lounging on the couch. He was happy to have gotten tone on Yale and Harvard, pulling riskier moves that Cyclone wasn’t pleased with, but it had been definitely worth it to hear the asshole cursing him over the mic.

Their flight started routine enough, and Jake was helping himself to a cup of coffee when he noted a change in Bug’s tone. “Hey Omaha, you with me?” she asked after he’d pulled a quick roll into a dive to avoid Fritz’s attempt to lock on them, climbing to regain altitude as they neared the hard deck. “Omaha?”

“Omaha, come in,” Fritz echoed. “Bug, his radio out?” Even though they were out of sight, flying over the desert, Jake’s eyes flicked to the window.

“Negative, radio’s fine. Omaha?” He could hear the tension in her voice.

“Shit - level wings, Omaha.”

“He’s out!”

“Inbound,” Rooster called. The Ready Room was silent, and Jake didn’t realize he’d moved closer to the radio until he felt the volume dial in his fingers, cranking it higher.

“Bug - status?” the tower called.

“Losing altitude. Fuck!” Hot coffee splashed over his hand as Jake squeezed the paper cup, and he quickly set it down, shaking away the burning liquid at the sound of her panic.

“Omaha, recover!” the tower yelled. “Someone give me details.

“55 nose low, 67 bank,” Fanboy called out.

“They’re diving,” Phoenix breathed. Jake felt a hand on his shoulder but couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but listen to Bug’s panting breath over the radio.

“Come on, Omaha,” Payback barked.

And then Jake heard it - Bitchin’ Betty telling Omaha to pull up. “Punch out,” he whispered. His hand itched for the throttle and stick, adrenaline racing as he pictured the dive. As a backseater, Bug was helpless. There was no stick, no throttle. Just the radar, letting her know how close to the ground they were. Their speed. It was her pilot’s job to keep her safe. He was vaguely aware of Coyote coming up beside him, probably reliving his G-LOC blackout just a year ago.

“Tone,” Fritz called.

“8G, mach,” Fanboy called. “Alt 500.” They were nose down, headed toward the ground at the speed of sound.

“Recover, Omaha!” Rooster yelled. But then one voice drowned all the rest, a scream that Jake would hear in his nightmares for years.

“Neil!”

“Climbing,” Fanboy called.

“Back, I’m back,” Omaha panted. “Fuck.”

“Knock off,” the tower ordered, scrubbing the rest of the exercise. “Alright, Omaha, climb back above 12,000.”

“Payback, knockoff.”

“Fritz, knockoff.”

“Fuck, Bug, you good?” Rooster’s question went unanswered, so he repeated it. “Bug, status?”

“Bug?” Omaha said.

“9K and climbing,” came her shaky voice.

“Rooster, knockoff. See you on the ground.”

“You good?” Coyote asked.

Twenty-seven seconds. Omaha had been out for the longest twenty-seven seconds of Jake’s life.

“She’s good, Hangman,” Phoenix said. But he didn’t hear it. He focused on the radio, listening to the tower guide everyone back in. Rooster refused to land before Omaha, wanting to keep an eye on everything from the air. The room emptied, and he stayed there until Omaha alerted the tower that he was in the landing position.

And then he bolted, sprinting past the others to the tarmac, barely restraining himself from running to the jet as Omaha landed and taxied. It took ages for the engines to stop and the canopy to lift. There wasn’t any movement for a long moment until Omaha stood, turning to look at his WSO. He extended his arm, and Jake was relieved to see her arm reach up to bump fists. His breath was sawing in and out of his chest as he raced toward her, barely skidding to a halt as the two embraced as soon as their boots hit the tarmac. “So fuckin’ sorry, Bug,” Omaha breathed. “Never happened before, and it - ”

“Are you alright?” Jake demanded, forcing himself not to shove the other man away, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to draw deep breaths.

“We’re good,” Omaha answered.

“Are you alright?” Jake demanded again, gaze not leaving Bug’s wide eyes. Her face was damp, and he could see the imprint of her mask on her pale face, but otherwise, she seemed fine.

“We’re good,” she repeated, her voice steady. But when he pulled her into his arms, he could feel that she was shaking hard and smelled the sharp scent of sweat. He was vaguely aware of the others arriving, their questions going unanswered as Bug rested her helmeted head on his shoulder, hiding her face from them.

“I’ve gotcha.” He didn’t want to let her go, but he knew they needed to make their way to medical. She and Omaha would need to be checked out and debriefed. Eventually, she pulled away and looked up at him, and Jake made himself give her a reassuring smile as he reached to unclip her helmet. Her hair was sleek with sweat when he lifted it from her head, tucking it under his arm.

“Hey,” Rooster said, appearing beside them, glancing between the two. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Bug nodded, stepping toward him and throwing her arms around him. “Thank you, Rooster.”

“‘Course. You ready to get checked out?” She nodded, glancing at Jake. He handed her the helmet and tipped his chin to where the flight surgeon was already talking to Omaha. It hurt to turn away from her, and he caught a flash of something in her eyes as he moved away to shake Fritz’s hand. Rooster threw him a look before tossing an arm over Bug’s shoulder and walking her toward the doc, stopping so she could hug Payback and Fanboy along the way.

They spent the rest of the day in the classroom, neither Omaha nor Bug joining them. When Jake left work, he saw that her car was already gone. There was talk of getting together to have a few drinks at the Hard Deck, but Jake had no interest in going - especially not when Bob had quipped about another lucky landing for Ladybug.

He’d planned on going straight home and having a glass of whiskey. It was his preferred way to wind down after a hard day, and this one hit harder than most. It wasn’t the first time he’d almost lost a wingman, and he knew it would take some time to shake, but this time was… different.

This time, it was Bug.

Jake was parking at her apartment and knocking on her door before he realized it. His fist collided with the metal when she didn’t answer. “Bug, it’s me,” he called. She was there - her car was in its spot. But she didn’t answer. He banged again, then rested his forehead on the door, calling her name. When he heard the flick of the lock, he straightened.

Bug’s eyes were red when they met his, her hair a tangled mess on her shoulders. She was still in her flight suit, the sleeves tied around her waist and her black undershirt discolored with sweat. They stared at one another for a heartbeat before Jake stepped closer, cupped her face, and kissed her. His lips were rough against hers, and he took advantage of her surprised gasp to deepen it. Her hand carded in his hair and he walked them into her apartment, pausing only long enough to kick the door closed. He moved his hand to curl around her neck, guiding her to just the right spot while his other hand slid under her shirt, wanting to reassure himself that she was alright. Bug moaned as his hand curved around her waist, fingers digging in and pulling her close enough to feel her heart beating against his.

Jake tasted spearmint on her tongue and, when they broke apart to catch their breath, the salt on her skin as his lips sealed on her throat. His fingers curled in her hair, tugging lightly to encourage her to give him more access as he nipped and soothed the hurt with his tongue. “Fuck,” she breathed.

“Don’t scare me like that, honey,” he whispered, relishing the soft whimper she let out. “Can’t do that to me.”

“I was so scared,” she admitted. “It was just like the crash. I couldn’t do anything but watch.” His mouth covered hers, unwilling and unable to think about her being in situations where he couldn’t do anything to help. Standing by the radio and listening, being helpless, had been the worst kind of torture.

They froze when there was a knock on the door. And then Jake felt as though he’d been doused in cold water when he heard Rooster call out, “Bug?” He pulled away and stared at her, taking in her kiss-swollen lips and the red marks he’d left on her throat. “Bug?”

“J-just a minute,” she called back. The glint in her eye dimmed slightly as he stepped away, dropping his hands from her body. Jake ran a hand down his face before licking his lips, savoring the taste of her mouth, tongue, and lip balm before he cleared his throat while continuing to back away.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You don’t have to - ”

Jake didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence, turning on his heel to open the door. Rooster took a step back, surprise written across his face, as he pushed past him and hurried toward his truck.

He’d fucked up, and he knew it.

Jake hated himself, but he wasn’t sure what for - kissing Bug or leaving her. Probably a bit of both.

But he definitely hated himself for going out of his way to avoid her. For seeing the hurt in her eyes, knowing that he caused it, and doing nothing to make it better. Actively making it worse when she sought him out - avoiding her at lunch and flirting with a woman the night Bug surprised everyone by showing up at the Hard Deck. He knew it was a dick move to walk the woman to her car, leaving her disappointed when he said goodnight without so much as a peck on the cheek. Jake knew what it looked like when he climbed into his truck and drove away rather than going back inside. He spent the rest of the night alone in bed, trying to forget the taste of Bug’s skin, only to paste on a fake smile and whistle as he strode into work the following morning. Bug hadn’t looked at him all day, but he’d definitely caught angry glances from the others.

It had taken everything in him not to stand on the tarmac the first time she climbed back into a jet and watch the entire flight. Instead, he forced himself to play foosball with Coyote and pretended not to listen closely to her on the radio.

If there was a benefit to Jake denying himself her company, it was that Bug was getting closer to the rest of the squad. She was eating lunch with them when he dodged her, eating outside or in his truck. She was joining them at the gym instead of sneaking away. The first day he saw her in running shorts instead of pants, Jake wanted to go to his knees in front of her and kiss every scar on her legs to let her know how gorgeous she was.

And she’d agreed to take the last open seat at their table for the Navy Ball.

Jake wasn’t sure if he would go until a few hours before it started when Phoenix texted that she’d castrate him if he skipped. So he ironed his dress blues and shaved, promising to leave right after the ceremony and dinner. He didn’t even get his truck washed before heading to the hotel, tossing his keys to the valet, and going straight for the cash bar.

Phoenix and Kerri were getting pictures taken, and Jake spotted Payback and Maria chatting with Mav and Penny. Fanboy and Bob were mingling, and he didn’t want to sit at the table by himself, so he decided to circulate as well. He’d never enjoyed these nights but knew it was important to get his face out there and show that he was a good sport, especially since he’d be pinning on his gold oak leaves in a few months when he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander.

One more step toward his goal of being an admiral.

When he was almost finished with his whiskey neat, Jake made his way back to the bar for another but decided to wait until dinner. But as he walked away, he heard someone call him, turning to see Yale motioning him over. “What?

“Just thought I’d rub it in your face that you lost our bet,” the other man smirked, pointing behind him. Jake glanced over his shoulder, watching as Rooster led a woman to their table and pulled out her chair before collapsing into the one beside her. His arm went around her shoulders, and he tugged her in to kiss her temple. “Looks like you didn’t get Rooster to pick Bug after all.”

“Our bet was over months ago, asshole,” Jake spat.

“You sure about that?”

“It was stupid to do in the first place.”

“What, you betting that you could get Rooster to be attracted to Bug?” He frowned as Yale looked over Jake’s shoulder and winked.

“You what?”

He closed his eyes, wishing that it wasn’t her. But when he turned, Bug stood there, shock and hurt written across her features. She looked gorgeous in a tight, floor-length navy blue dress with some type of short, glittery sleeves. He could just see the scar on her arm peeking out, and he ached to press his lips to the curve of her neck. “Bug - ”

“A bet?”

“Yup,” Yale said, clapping a hand to Jake’s shoulder that he quickly shook off, fists clenching. He couldn’t punch him here, not in front of all the officers, but he wanted to. “All a bet.”

“It wasn’t,” Jake said, reaching for Bug. She stepped back, her red lips pressed into a thin line. “It started out that way but - ”

“Just - ” she cut him off, lifting a hand to stop him. “Just stop, please. Don’t ruin tonight for me. At least, not more than you already have.”

“Bug - ” But she was gone, pushing through the crowd and exiting into the hotel's main lobby. Turning, he faced Yale, who smirked into his highball glass. “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that?” The other man shrugged.

“You ever think I’m doin’ you a favor? That Ladybug might not be a good luck charm but a curse? Look at the other pilots she’s been involved with - I mean, fuck. Omaha’s never G-LOC’d before, and a couple of months with her as his WSO and suddenly he’s almost crashing?”

Aware of the eyes on him, Jake forced himself not to lift his clenched fist as he stepped closer to Yale. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Gentlemen,” Cyclone said, appearing beside them. “You’re blocking the bar.” Jake lifted his chin and stepped back, feeling the air boss’s eyes on him.

“Sorry ‘bout that, sir,” he forced himself to say. “I’ll get out of your way.” His eyes darted across the room and saw Rooster standing up from the table. Angry, he followed the pilot, intercepting him on his way to the men’s room. “Hey!”

Rooster startled at Jake’s bark and raised an eyebrow. “Hey?”

“Why didn’t you come with Bug tonight?”

“Bug? Why would I come with her?”

“Because she likes you, you jackass!”

“Me? Bug doesn’t like me, jackass. At least, not like that.”

“Yes, she does. She’s had a crush on you since she got here.”

“Aren’t you two dating?” The question brought Jake up short. “Everyone’s kind of thought the two of you were together.”

“No… no, we’re not. She’s not - she likes you. We’re just friends.”

“Wow,” the other man said, crossing his arms and smirking. “I didn’t realize what a fucking idiot you were. Bug and I are just friends - you two aren’t friends. Or, at least, not just friends.”

“But…”

“Wow. Phoenix is gonna love this,” Rooster laughed, clapping the other man on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta piss and then get back to my date. Maybe you should go find yours.”

Jake stood there for a long moment, playing the last few months over in his head. It had been a while since he’d seen Bug blush whenever Rooster looked at her. And, if he thought about it, she’d always looked confused when he mentioned Rooster being somewhere as an incentive for her to go out.

And she’d kissed him back.

Maybe…maybe what he’d taken for an adrenaline crash on her part had actually been…

“Fuck,” he groaned, realizing that maybe Bug did actually like him. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d caught feelings over the last few months. And she thought he’d only talked to her because of a bet.

She ignored his phone calls, and he couldn’t find her anywhere in the hotel. He was about to get his car back from the valet and drive to her apartment when he saw her walking back into the ballroom and had to force himself not to run after her. Bug settled at their table, taking a spot between Kerri and Maria. Both women looked at him as he stood behind Bug’s chair and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Can I talk to you?”

“No.”

“Please?” When she turned away from him and started talking to Maria, he bit back a groan. He sighed her name and watched as a blush rose on her cheeks.

“Maybe you should sit down, Hangman,” Phoenix said, smirking as she nodded to the seat directly across from Bug. Their squad had thrown in together to get two tables, and he was relieved to see that Yale was sitting at the other one. “Speech is about to start.” He sighed, rubbing a knuckle along Bug’s shoulder and watching the goosebumps rise. She ignored him, and he retreated to sit between Bob and Rooster’s date. Bug continued to ignore him as he stared at the pretty blush that stretched from her cheeks to her chest. He was paying so little attention that Bob had to elbow him when the color guard entered, and he saluted, not watching the guard but instead watching Bug as she stood at attention with her back to him.

If asked, he couldn’t tell you a damn thing about what the keynote speaker said over their 45-minute speech other than hazarding a guess that it had something to do with the Navy and Marines celebrating their birthdays together. Instead, he watched Bug turn in her seat, occasionally facing him as she sipped her water. During the short break, he stood and tried to catch her before dinner was served, but she looped arms with Maria and retreated to the ladies' room.

“Didn’t think tonight would have a show with it,” Payback chuckled, sipping his beer and setting a glass of wine by his wife’s plate.

“This is perfect,” Phoenix agreed, tapping her rum and coke against Fanboy’s.

“Shut up,” Jake grumbled. When Maria and Bug came back, Maria tucked herself under her husband’s arm while Bug checked her phone. He caught the way her brows furrowed, and her shoulders slumped, finger hesitating over the screen before tapping it and returning it to her clutch. When her eyes lifted, they met Jake’s before flitting away to focus on the floral centerpiece.

The same thing happened as they ate dinner. Jake had never realized how hot it could be to watch someone eat… that lipstick smudge on her water glass. When they cleared away dinner and cut the birthday cake, he grabbed them both a piece and fantasized about smearing the icing on her collarbone and licking it off.

The DJ kicked off the music, and as soon as Bug put down her fork, he pushed to his feet and circled the table. “Dance with me?” he asked, extending his hand over her shoulder. She ignored him, as expected. Her skin was warm under his palm as he rested his hand on her shoulder and leaned to whisper in her ear. “One dance, and I’ll leave you alone. Promise.” Bug sighed, and Jake grinned when she grabbed her napkin from her lap and threw it onto the table. He pulled her chair back, chuckling when she ignored his offered hand.

“One dance,” she said, holding up a finger before walking to the dance floor. She waited expectantly for him at the side, and he took her hand, leading her to the middle of the floor where they could hide in the crowd from their friend’s prying eyes. But even as she stepped into his arms, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other in his, she didn’t look at him.

“Bug, I’m sorry.” When she didn’t say anything, he forged ahead. “The bet was stupid, and I made it before I really knew you.”

“When?”

“What?”

“When did you make the bet?”

“The Fourth of July.” He watched her lips press into a thin line as they swayed to an old song, her eyes fixed on his medals rather than meeting his eyes. Jake sighed, “We were drunk, and it was stupid, and I don’t even know why I did it. And it was before I knew that you and Yale even knew each other before this. But, what I’m tryin’ to say is that I’m sorry that I made the stupid bet, but I’m also not.”

Bug pulled them to a stop, anger flashing in her eyes as she finally looked at him. “You’re not sorry?”

“No,” he smiled, applying gentle pressure to her lower back and pulling her closer. She resisted. “You promised me one dance, Bug, and it’s not over.” Reluctantly, she stepped closer and resumed their awkward dance. “I’m not sorry, at least not entirely, because I probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to talk to you if I hadn’t been tryin’ to set you up with Rooster. You’re not the easiest person to get to know.”

“Are you blaming me?”

“No, just stating a fact. You avoided talking to any of us about anything other than work. If it wasn’t for the bet, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you - I’d only know Ladybug.”

“I am Ladybug.”

Jake smiled while saying her name, his hand lifting from her waist to trace the scar on her arm. “You’re more than Ladybug. Ladybug doesn’t read sexy books over lunch or think that apples, cheese, and crackers are a meal. She doesn’t play softball or answer her friend’s call even knowin’ he’s probably gonna hurt her. That’s all you, honey. Ladybug’s great, but I think I’m fallin’ in love with you.”

Bug stopped for a second time, her red lips falling open as she looked at him. “What?”

“I said, I think I’m fallin’ in love with you.”

“Even though you were trying to set me up with your friend?” she asked after a moment.

“If you think about it, I wasn’t really trying too hard.”

“You’ve been ignoring me for weeks.”

“‘Cause I didn’t want to see you with him, but I want you to be happy. And if you’d be happier with Rooster, then I guess I can figure out some way to break up him and - ”

“Are you serious right now?” her voice was getting louder, and they were starting to draw attention. Noticing this, Bug squared her shoulders and stepped out of his arms, storming off of the floor. Jake hurried behind her, heart in his throat as they exited the ballroom and entered the hotel lobby.

“Bug, please - ” Spinning on her heel, she marched back toward him and poked his chest.

“You… you jackass!”

“I’m hearing that a lot tonight.”

“You’re an idiot!”

“Heard that, too.”

“You don’t tell someone that you ‘think you’re falling in love with them’” - she made air quotes while throwing his words back at him - “and then try to set them up with your friend.”

“How am I supposed to know? This is the first time I’m doing this.”

“This is - ” Bug paused, ruby lips falling open as she let out a little gasp. Crossing her arms, she cocked a hip and pinned him with a glare. “This is the first time I think I’m falling in love with someone, too, and even I know that, you idiot. It’s pretty common sense.”

Jake’s grin was blinding, and he hesitantly reached out to wrap a hand around her waist, stepping into her space. Bug tilted her chin to meet his eyes, her lip twitching as she fought a smile. “You think you’re fallin’ in love with me, Bug?”

“Maybe.”

“Well… maybe I don’t think I’m falling in love with you. Maybe I know I’m in love with you. I think,” he leaned down, his breath ghosting over her face as he stared at her lips. “I think maybe I knew when you nearly burned in.”

“Maybe I knew it then, too.”

Jake’s nose brushed hers before he kissed her. This time, it was soft. Teasing. Testing the waters. They pulled away to stare at one another for a heartbeat before Bug threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down to lick into his mouth. Jake smiled, his arms going around her waist and pulling her close, his fingers curling around the nape of her neck. And then, just like before, they were interrupted. But this time, it was by a catcall.

“Finally!” Rooster laughed.

“Get a room, you two!” Phoenix ordered before kissing her girlfriend’s cheek.

Bug and Jake looked at one another, and she reached up to wipe the red lipstick from his mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes when she said, “I do have one… a room. Here. If you wanted to.”

“Fuck, honey,” he groaned. “Let’s go.” Her blush deepened as she pushed onto her toes to whisper in his ear.

“So… you should know that I’ve only slept with one person. And only once. Just in case it’s not…so you don’t get your expectations too high.”

Jake stared down at her, forcing his jaw not to drop. “Bug, please tell me he at least made you cum.” Rather than answer, she pressed her lips together tightly, and he groaned again.

“I have so much to teach you, honey. Starting tonight. Let’s go.”

“My key’s in my clutch. At the table.”

“Right.” He nodded, bending to kiss her again.

“It might, um…have been a while. But I’ve read a lot,” Bug said, as though trying to assure them both. And Jake couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I know. I’ve read some of your sexy books. Want me to reenact them for you?” Bug’s breath caught, and he chuckled, pecking her lips. “Be a good girl, and wait here for me, honey.”

There was some good-natured teasing when Jake hurried to their table and snatched Bug’s clutch. He ignored it all, wanting to get back to her quickly.

But he did detour to the cake table, picking a slice with extra frosting.

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

Author's Note: This one really got away with me, and I was shocked that I managed to write it in about 2 days. A huge thanks goes to May for beta'ing this for me and making sure that Jake still felt like Bug was interested in Rooster throughout.

I love the idea of Jake reading romance novels because his girlfriend likes them. Three that were mentioned here (in order) are: Wicked Beauty by Katee Roberts, The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang, and The Bromance Bookclub by Lyssa Kay Adams. You know that he would absolutely lovingly tease his partner about reading them, and then be blown away by just how much one can learn from reading smutty literature. There are definitely some book shopping trips he'll be treating Bug to in the future.

Ladybugs have historically been seen as a sign of good luck. I liked the idea of Reader having that as a callsign, as she wouldn't have anything to do with piloting the plane, but could serve as good luck for her pilot. Even in scrapes, she's there to help them out. For Risk, on his first carrier landing, she was able to keep him calm, and later in the accident, she was able to keep him stable until help arrived. For Omaha, she was able to snap him out of G-LOC by screaming his name. And for Jake? Well, ladybugs can also mean luck in love and expanding family.

A bit about the trauma in the story. Bug would meet the diagnostic criteria for post-trumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and probably should have been grounded for a little while. But disassociation from the traumatic event can help someone compartmentalize their trauma and get back to work (can attest to this from personal experience) - she was medically cleared by the flight surgeon and was back on duty. As of this posting, the Air Force is the only branch with a policy that allows aviators to get 60 days of mental health treatment without needing a return to duty waiver/clearance. Bug would have benefited from treatment, which might have further delayed her PCS and made Yale not hate her. She's not "cured" of PTSD by falling in love, but hopefully there's some therapy in her future to help her process the traumatic events. As for the G-LOC, there is no way for a WSO to take control of the aircraft, and the F-18s haven't been retrofitted with the technology to have autopilot reengage when the pilot loses control.

Risk would undergo the medical discharge process - "med board" - to be separated from the military with an honorable discharge following the accident, as he would be unable to preform the duties of his Military Occupational Specialty (MOS). I don’t imagine him as a bad guy, trying to hurt Bug, but traumatic brain injuries (TBIs) can cause emotional dysregulation and aggression that can be hard to deal with.

If you're interested, this is the dress that I imagined Bug wearing to the Navy ball (not representative of how I think she looks).

Thank you so much for reading this. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please fill out my tag list form (hyperlinked).

Tag list: @shanimallin87

@roosterforme

@kmc1989

@dizzybee03

@lovelyladymayyy

@tgmreader

@justdamnpeachy

@milegonzalez96

@capoteera

@mrsevans90

@toomanytocountsposts

@spidey-d00d

@avengersfan25

@atarmychick007

@seitmai

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman smut #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman imagine #She's All That fic #sorchasromcombirthdaycelly

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temporarywelcome · 2 months ago

Text

Drunk - Leon Kennedy

Words: 2.3k

Summary: (set not long after the Raccoon City Incident) Leon is busy being sad at the bar, shocked to finally see a familiar face.

CW: alcohol consumption, also written by someone who doesn't know anything about alcohol consumption lol, language, I headcanon Leon did football in high school.

_____

It was safe to say the life of Leon Kennedy was absolute ass.

His life pretty much just started too, finally graduating the police academy and given the opportunity to live out his dream as a police officer. Which didn’t work out. Big zombie-virus outbreak and all.

Being forced to work for the US government was not on his bucket list. He was honestly ready to move to a small town with a population of, like, a thousand people, and be an officer there. No drama. Just sitting in a police cruiser looking for traffic violations. After everything that happened at Racoon City, he was in need of a boring life.

The US government had different plans.

And he hated it.

So, there he was, at his favorite place ever now since moving to Washington D.C…. this bar filled to the brim with sad bikers and businessmen. A strange mix, but the drunken stories he heard were always interesting. At least, in his own drunken mind.

Tonight, the usual cast was there. Tony, this biker who was always getting into troubles with his ol’ lady (and the mob), Juan, another biker who felt ever so lonely due to never being able to find a woman, and Don, a guy who worked at this tech company who felt bad for constantly cheating on his wife.

Leon did not like Don.

But he took his seat with them, the small group taking turns detailing their woes and despair as they drank their beers. Tony’s ol’ lady wanted him to leave his motorcycle club. Juan had a date who stood him up. Don had gone fifteen days not cheating on his wife, but was getting “urges”.

“Why don’t you just get a divorce already?” Leon had asked gruffly, taking a large swig of his drink, “You obviously don’t like your wife. Let the poor woman go, she deserves better,”

“No no no,” the older man shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. What was left of it. He was beginning to bald, a large patch of hair already long gone. “I love her, I do. I just have to control these urges.”

Weirdo.

Leon bit his tongue. He thought cheaters were scum. He thought Don was scum. But he did not want to lose a drinking buddy. No matter how gross Leon thought this guy was.

Don opened his mouth to say something else, pausing when he very noticeably craned his head past Leon’s shoulder, looking past not just him, but Tony and Juan as well. “Shit. It’s so hard to control myself. That woman is a beauty,”

“Don, are you serious?” Tony rolled his eyes in disgust. Leon was sure none of them really liked this guy. “Is this chronic or something? How the hell-”

As soon as Leon turned his head in curiosity, he wasn’t listening. The bickering of his drinking pals was background noise as his eyes landed on the woman Don was eyeing. The most beautiful woman Leon has ever seen in his twenty-two years of living.

His fucking high school crush.

Y/N. The stereotypical popular girl. A cheerleader who dated this football player. Homecoming and prom queen. Popular, but also incredibly smart and kind and just so perfect. Leon was a football player himself back in high school, and was actually friends with her boyfriend. So he never dared make a move on her. He respected his friend too much.

Last he heard, Y/N and her boyfriend had broken up. Not because of anything malicious, but they were going to different universities and didn’t want to do long distance. Respectable reasoning. Considering how much of a wonderful woman Y/N was, Leon was sure she was seeing someone else right now.

But then… why would she be by herself at a bar?

He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking straight in front of him. An array of different liquors and bottles of alcohol lined up neatly on shelves. Yes, yes, he will look at that.

“God,” Don groaned dramatically, head going into his hands, “She’s gorgeous,”

“She's too young for you,” Leon interjected immediately, suddenly feeling quite protective over Y/N, as if he were in high school again. The girl he always stared at from across the classroom, across the lunch table, across the street. They were fucking neighbors.

Always being around her, but not being able to have her was complete torture.

“Girls love older men,”

He rolled his eyes, “Not her,”

“How would you know?” Now the older man was getting annoyed, gesturing for the bartender to get him another bottle of beer.

“Um, just a feeling,” Leon took this as a chance to get his third bottle, politely thanking the bartender. “She just doesn’t look like the type-”

“-Leon?”

Ohhhh shit. He didn’t need to turn around to figure out who the owner of that melodic voice was. Who was the owner of that sweet sound he used to hear every day for four years straight. He knew right away.

“Oh!” he tried to play it cool as he turned around to face her, “Y/N! You live in D.C. now?”

Juan was the first of his little friend group to speak, “You know her?” Why did he sound so shocked Leon knew a gorgeous woman? To be fair, Leon did constantly complain about loneliness. The whole point of this little group was to complain about their sad, lonely lives.

“Yeah!” Leon tried to hide his excitement, hide the joy he felt seeing her. Playing cool completely flew out the window as soon as she smiled at him. It was that easy. “We knew each other in high school!”

“It’s so nice to see you, especially right now,” Y/N groaned, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

Damn, he didn’t realize how much he needed that. A hug. A familiar face.

Comfort.

“What happened?” his arms went around her waist tightly, bringing her against him. Practically on his lap, but he was feeling rather typsy and didn’t think much of it.

“Ooh, you worked out a lot,” she ignored the question, poking at his bicep, “You’re so much bigger than I remember!” Her words made his cheeks flush red, and she continued: “Oh, and I’m here because I’ve been broken hearted and in need of getting drunk. You?”

“Well, I’m here because I’m incredibly lonely and in need of getting drunk,” With a grin, he stood up, hands still placed boldly on her hips, “How about we get ourselves a table?” He faced his drinking buddies, who were all looking at him in confusion (Tony), sadness (Juan), and jealousy (Don), “I’ll see you guys around,”

Slipping his hands from her hips, one took hold of her own, leading her to an empty table. “Thanks,” she said with a small giggle, taking a seat.

“What would the lady like to drink?”

“Shots,” she replied right away.

And so he got them some shots, sitting across from her. “Together?”

Her eyes brightened, “Okay!” She took a glass in her hand, waiting for him to do the same. When he did, she began to count down, “Okay, on three. One… two… three!”

Together, they both downed their drinks.

“God, I really need to get shit-faced,” she grumbled, placing down the glass, “Can I vent?”

“Vent away, babe,” He would never call her that in any other instance, but with the alcohol in his system, he wasn’t exactly thinking straight.

“Okay,” she said okay a lot, “I was dating this guy, right? In law school, promising guy. Supported my career goals, he had his own. Wanted to be a senator one day. Good shit, right? Good shit till I came to his place to find him fucking around with some chick. And get this, we looked alike too! Well, I didn’t really get much of a look at her when I was throwing punches,”

His jaw dropped, “What? How could someone cheat on you? You’re like… perfection!” he was acting much more dramatic than usual, splaying his arms around expressively, “But… did the other girl know she was the other woman?”

“I’m pretty sure, considering she was laughing at me when I walked in. Made me more pissed. Made me want to beat her ass even more,” she grabbed another shot glass, “Again?”

“Again!” Leon confirmed, grabbing his.

After they drank their other shot, she continued, “Can’t believe I wasted my time on this guy. No offense, but why is your kind,” she wiggled her fingers at him, “so nasty,”

He shrugged, “I haven’t been in a relationship in over a year. I haven’t been nasty,”

“Were you nasty before that?” she teased.

“Wha- no! I’m not like that,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “I pride myself in being a respectable and loyal man-”

“-I’m just playin’ with ya,” Y/N laughed, “I remember how you treated that one girl you dated junior year. Like she was a queen! It was so sweet,”

Now he was blushing again, scratching the back of his neck and refusing to meet her gaze. “Ah, jeez, thank you. I just did what I was supposed to as a boyfriend. Anything less would have been completely stupid. Why date someone if I’m not gonna give them my all?”

“See, that’s how everyone should look at dating,” Y/N nodded in approval, “How everyone… yeah. Yeah, right. Hm,” She grabbed her last glass, not even waiting for him before bringing it to her lips.

“Only three shots and you’re already acting funny,” he teased, leaning forward and fucking booping her nose. “Silly. Silly billy,”

“I’m only tipsy,” she swatted his hand away, but he just chuckled and booped her again. “You’re drunk,”

“I think so,”

“I know so,”

“Yeah yeah yeah, smartypants,” he reached for his third glass, but she stopped him. “Heyyyy,”

“No more for you, buddy,” She smirked, taking the drink herself.

“Heyyyy,” he repeated, “That was mine!”

“Too late. In my stomach now,”

“Ughhh,” he laid his head onto the table, forehead pressed against the cold surface, “My driiiiiink,” he began mumbling to himself before raising his head again, “My drink,”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Y/N waved the thought off in disinterest, “So, I said why I was here. What brings you to a bar, Kennedy?”

He looked away, trying to remember why he was even there in the first place, “Oh! Oh, yes. Sad. I was very sad,” he replied, “It’s really lonely here. I have no actual friends. No girlfriend. Haven’t had a family in years,”

“No girlfriend? How? Look at you now! Even better than in high school!”

Shrugging, he began tapping his fingers on the table nervously. He was used to talking to Tony, Juan, and Don about his troubles, not his high school crush! “I’ve been busy with work.”

“Are you living that police officer dream of yours?”

“No,” Leon remembered the beer he never even finished, snatching it up before Y/N could realize what he was doing, and taking a long swig, “Was an officer for a day,”

“A day!” she exclaimed, “What happened?”

“I was an officer in Raccoon City,”

That was all he needed to say for it to dawn on her what had happened to him. “...Raccoon City?” she said slowly, “Oh my God! You survived that big explosion?! I thought there were no survivors!”

“Of course-” he paused. Yes, he was drunk, but he knew the rules. The things he had to lie about to keep Sherry safe. The fact he admitted he was at Raccoon City during the Incident was already a mistake on its own. “Um, the only survivor. Yeah.”

“I didn’t see it on the news or anything-”

“-Because everyone needs to think there were no survivors,”

“Oh…” she took the hint, clearing her throat awkwardly. “No survivors. I don’t want to mysteriously vanish because I knew something I shouldn’t, so, back to your loneliness. No hot women at, uh, wherever you work at now?”

“No,”

“That’s a shame,”

He hummed softly, propping his elbow up and resting his chin on his hand, staring at her. Analysing her. Drinking in every inch of the woman he used to be oh-so in love with. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I always thought so,”

“Oh, Leon!” she laughed, cheeks rosy as she playfully hit his arm, “You’re so drunk,”

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful. I don’t need alcohol in my system to think so,” he insisted, before downing the last of his beer. He then let out a childish giggle, getting up from his seat.

“Where are you-?” she didn’t even have time to question him, the dirty blonde plopping down next to her and laying his head in her lap. “What are you doing?”

“Hmmmmm,” he nuzzled his nose against her stomach, eyes fluttering shut. He had long lashes. What was with men and having the prettiest lashes imaginable? “Cuddling,”

“In a bar?”

“Mhmmmmm,” he nodded softly, “You’re my girlfriend now,”

“Well, Leon, I don’t think it works that way,” she laughed, trying to resist the urge to just run her fingers through his hair and- she failed. Reaching out, her fingers tangled in the thick strands, combing out the blonde locks gently. “You didn’t even ask me out on a date!”

He pouted, eyes snapping open. Two globes of cerulean making contact with her. “Go out on a date with me then,”

A sad smile formed on her lips, pushing some hair from his annoyingly handsome face, “You’re drunk, Leon,”

“And? I still wanna go out with you,” he began poking at her cheek, “Say yes,”

“Or what?” Y/N teased gently, poking his cheek back.

“I don’t know. I’ll die,”

“Hm,” gripping his wrist to stop the annoying pokes to her cheek, she rested his palm against her cheek, “You’re probably not even going to remember this in the morning, but, yes, I’ll go out with you,”

_____

Where's everyone going? :( Bingo? :(

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anonymousewrites · 2 months ago

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 3) Chapter One

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter One: Revelations and Art

Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki tell everyone about their relationship.

Mouse Note: Welcome back! How are we feeling? Good, I hope. I'm so excited for this book, even if it's shorter and the end of this series. I love you all and this journey.

“(L/N), Saiki, there you are,” said Kaidou as (Y/N) and Saiki entered Café Mami. Most of their friends were already there. “Usually you’re the first people to Café Mami after school.”

“They do have the best snacks,” said Yumehara, smiling.

“I wanted ramen,” said Nendou.

“You always want ramen,” said Kuboyasu, rolling his eyes.

“I did a hundred laps of the track today, so I think a nice reward is in order!” said Hairo.

“I hope they have coffee jelly ready,” said Teruhashi.

“They better since Saiki is here,” said Miko, laughing.

“His biggest weakness,” said Toritsuka.

“Everyone,” said (Y/N), clearing their throat and standing before the table with all their friends. “I—We have something to tell you.”

Everyone looked at them curiously, and Saiki nearly sighed at all the thoughts running through people’s heads. (Honestly, the number of idiots present who thought (Y/N) and Saiki were going to announce a tragedy or the coming of Dark Reunion was ridiculous). (Y/N) looked at him, and he nodded. (Y/N) took his hand.

“Kusuo and I…we’re dating.”

Two words. Two simple words that stopped people’s thoughts. Saiki looked at the group as they stared. And then—smiles. Smiles spread onto people’s faces.

“Congratulations!”

Saiki looked at (Y/N) and found them beaming back at him.

I suppose that wasn’t so disastrous.

He squeezed their hand.

Not with them with me.

“How long have you been together?” asked Kaidou excitedly.

“Um, a few months,” said (Y/N), smiling.

“And you didn’t tell us, pal?!” said Nendou.

“It’s none of your business,” said Saiki.

“I knew,” said Miko proudly.

“So did I,” said Toritsuka.

“You weren’t supposed to. You were troublesome,” said Saiki straightforwardly.

“How did I not notice?!” said Yumehara.

“Kusuo and I didn’t act much differently than before we were dating,” said (Y/N0.

“Congratulations, you two. Seriously,” said Kuboyasu, smiling

“Thanks,” said (Y/N), beaming.

“You and Saiki are dating?” said Teruhashi, staring at the pair. For months?

(Y/N) shifted slightly. “Yeah.”

“I—” A lot of thoughts rushed through her head. All of her feelings spiraled around her. She cleared her throat. “Congratulations.” Still, as people continued to pester (Y/N) and Saiki, she remained silent.

(Y/N) glanced at Saiki. “Kusuo, is she alright?”

“She’s confused,” said Saiki directly to their mind.

“She needs time,” said (Y/N) softly, nodding. They could respect that. They just hoped that amidst all the joy of getting to be honest about their relationship that they wouldn’t lose a friend in the process.

Saiki didn’t need telepathy to see that (Y/N) was worried. Gently, he reached out and squeezed their hand. “It will be alright.”

(Y/N) smiled at him. “I hope so.” Losing a friend would be disastrous.

(Y/N) sat down beside Saiki in class. The following day had arrived, and all the clay statues they had been assigned to work on were due. However, (Y/N)’s mind remained firmly on Teruhashi. She was the only person who hadn’t interacted with (Y/N) and Saiki since the announcement of their relationship. Hopefully, it was just that Teruhashi had been working through her feelings. Being disappointed that the boy she had a “crush” on—really her understandable focus on someone who looked at her as a person and not a pretty girl—was in a relationship was valid. (Y/N) wouldn’t fault her for that. But they didn’t want to lose their friend. Telling the truth of their relationship was a necessary step, it had to happen at some point, but they didn’t want to lose people they cared about in the process.

“Clay work is due today. If you haven’t finished, finish today,” said the teacher.

Most classmates shifted nervously, definitely too far behind to finish.

“I’m done,” said Kaidou, raising a hand.

“Oh, are you, Kaidou?” said the teacher.

Q: Why did you make this artwork?

“Because it’s my mission and my fate,” said Kaidou. “Even beautiful angels can suddenly become fallen angels in this world. I made it because I wanted to convey the fear and vulnerability.”

Q: What was the hardest part?

“I struggled to express the texture of Lucifer’s broken wings,” said Kaidou. “I’m satisfied with the quality.”

Q: What is the title of your artwork?

“Fallen Lucifer,” said Kaidou.

Everyone looked at Kaidou’s work. It had the faint carving of a face and a crumbling mess of “wings.”

“Wow, did you turn in work you dropped on the floor as is?” said Nendou.

“I didn’t drop it!” exclaimed Kaidou.

“Dropped Lucifer,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) covered their mouth as they giggled.

“I’m done, too!” said Kuboyasu.

Q: Why did you make this artwork?

“I just made what I like,” said Kuboyasu. “That’s all.”

Q: What is the message of your artwork?

“I have filled it with the dreams of men,” said Kuboyasu, shrugging. “However, some people may feel fear, anxiety, and frustration. Dreams come true because of someone’s sacrifice.”

Q: What is the title of your artwork?

“Dream,” said Kuboyasu. His sculpture was a very nice looking motorcycle—a little warped but impressive for a high schooler.

“That’s amazing, Aren!” said Kaidou.

“Isn’t it? I worked so hard,” said Kuboyasu.

“The details are so cool,” said (Y/N).

“Weird title for that,” said Saiki.

“Place it next to mine,” said Kaidou.

“Lucifer Run Over,” said Saiki.

“I’m done, too,” said Nendou.

Q: Why did you make this artwork?

“I dunno,” said Nendou. “My hands made it without my will.”

Q: What was the hardest part?

“There’s a vent blowing cold air directly at my seat,” said Nendou. “That was the hardest part.”

Q: What is the message of your artwork?

“What do you mean?” asked Nendou. “It’s all up to you.”

(Y/N) stared at it. It looked like a head with horns. “A demented Darth Maul.”

Saiki nodded. “He has problems.”

(Y/N) raised a hand. “I’m finished.”

Q: Why did you make this artwork?

“Because it was a school assignment?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

Q: What does it mean to you?

“I have an obsession with sweets,” said (Y/N). Saiki nodded.

Q: What is the name of your artwork?

“Cupcakes,” said (Y/N) proudly, gesturing to their sculpture of a few cupcakes on a plate.

“I’m hungry,” said Saiki.

“I’m done!” said Hairo, raising his hand.

Q: Why did you make this artwork?

“Because I wanted to show my passion for art,” said Hairo.

Q: What was the hardest part?

“I was working wearing ten-kilogram weights on my arms. That was the hardest part,” said Hairo.

Q: What is the message of your artwork?

“I made it with the wish of achieving calmness of heart,” said Hairo.

His statue was perfectly carved Buddha.

“I called it, ‘Calm!’ ” said Hairo.

“It’s so Hairo,” said Saiki.

“Definitely,” said (Y/N).

“I’m, like, done!” said Miko.

Q: Why did you make this artwork?

“Dunno, it was an assignment,” said Miko.

Q: What was the hardest part?

“I don’t like to work hard, so I just enjoyed making it,” said Miko.

Q: What is the message of your artwork?

“Who cares?” said Miko casually.

She had, of course, bedazzled her sculpture.

“I thought we could only use clay,” said Saiki.

“I’m done,” announced Teruhashi.

Q: Why did you make artwork?

“The title is ‘Wish,’ ” said Teruhashi. She paused and glanced at (Y/N) as she spoke. “I made it wishing that every student at PK Academy gets the friends they deserve so that they can overcome any problems by helping one another.”

Her sculpture was of two people holding hands with their arms raised. Saiki noted with interest that one looked feminine while the other was more androgynous.

“Wow, you’re amazing, Teruhashi!” cried the class. “Let us take a closer look at it! And become close to me!”

Teruhashi smiled but did take a step back. She set the statue down, and people crowded around to look at it.

“Class, hand in your pieces,” said the teacher.

All the boys held up their art—attempts at carving Teruhashi’s face. She stared at the, frankly, creepy creations.

“This is terrible!” cried her classmates, seeing how they were unable to capture Teruhashi’s beauty.

Teruhashi sweat-dropped as she watched her own face get shattered into a million pieces.

Oh, wow… thought (Y/N), wincing.

Yare yare, thought Saiki. They’re idiots.

“Saiki, you’re up,” said the teacher.

Oh, it’s my turn at last. Saiki put down a carved coffee jelly.

Well, what else did we expect? thought (Y/N), grinning.

“(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) paused as they walked towards the door of the classroom. “Yeah, Kokomi?” Teruhashi stood behind them.

“I…” Teruhashi shifted. She had never been shy or uncertain before, but she cleared her throat nervously. “I wanted to talk. About you and Saiki.”

(Y/N) paused. “Okay.”

“I want to say that I’m…I’m happy for you,” said Teruhashi. She smiled slightly. “Really, I am. You two have always been close. I should have known.”

“Kokomi—”

“I’m going to respect your relationship,” said Teruhashi. “I…I like Saiki. But you’re my friend. That’s more important than crushes.”

(Y/N) smiled softly. “Right.”

“So I’m going to get over him.” Teruhashi smiled. “Because our friendship is important to me.”

“It’s important to me, too,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “And Kokomi, you deserve a relationship with someone who values you who for who you are. Really. I’m rooting for you.” They took Teruhashi’s hands and squeezed encouragingly.

Teruhashi smiled shyly, her cheeks turning pink. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) hugged her, and Teruhashi stiffened in surprise before hugging back. They were going to be alright.

“Is everything alright?” said Saiki.

(Y/N) smiled at him as they headed out of the school. “Of course. I mean, you heard us talking.” They knew he had the psychic abilities to.

“She’s going to move on,” said Saiki.

“Yeah,” said (Y/N). “We’re still friends; you and I are together. We’re okay.” They looped their arm with Saiki’s and kissed his cheek. Everything was alright.

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flavorcountry · 11 months ago

Text

I got a cold and watched that Jenny Nicholson video about the Star Wars hotel (it's very good) and fully lost my mind: even after experiencing a comprehensive four-hour deconstruction of why it didn't work for Star Wars, I still think a version of this would absolutely work for Star Trek. Take my hand and walk with me on my journey into madness, where I have infinite money, talent, and team to make it all happen!!

Overall vibe

If you want to make a hotel/resort experience that takes place inside a fake spaceship, I still think Star Trek is the way to go: so much of Star Trek takes place on ships, and we've seen the rooms are pretty nice!! Like the Star Wars one, my Star Trek hotel is also a simulated starship, but with better rooms and more fun stuff to do.

Are you ready for this shit

Can you tell I drew this myself

You'll arrive at Farpoint Station,* where the concierge checks you in and your luggage gets whisked away by station staff. Gift shop's also here. When you're checked in and ready to head to your room, you're brought to one of several transporter rooms. If you never went to the Star Trek Experience at the Vegas Hilton when it was active, I am truly sorry for you, because they had a ride whose boarding process included getting beamed away: you and your pals were herded into a zone where you were clearly meant to board a run-of-the-mill 20th-century simulator ride, and then there were jets of mist and a sound and suddenly you were in a transporter room on board the goddamn USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D. It was fucking magical and I never, ever want it explained to me. Anyway, that's what happens to you at my Star Trek hotel: you step onto a transporter pad and get beamed from Farpoint to a Galaxy-class Federation starship. Exit the transporter room and walk down the ship's corridor to take the turbolifts to Cargo Bay 1, where a "temporary muster point" has been set up (this is where the guest services desks will be), or just follow the lit-up companel signs to your cabin. Yes, it will look like guest quarters aboard the Enterprise-D, more or less — maybe a little smaller — but it'll have the carpet, the plant, the glass coffee table, and most importantly a window that looks out into space.

Or!!! If you booked the resort, keep heading down the hallway and take another turbolift to a different section of the ship where the holodeck entrances are. The holodecks, naturally, are running a Risa program, so you walk through the doors and under the arch and suddenly you're outdoors looking at a beautiful landscape with a pool and whatnot, plus the resort accommodations where the more conventional fancy rooms are, and also the restaurants and entertainment venues, all themed. There's a Quark's. There's a Klingon bar and grill. A Bolian salon/spa. Talaxian arcade?? Nausicaan axe-throwing pit?!?! Come on!!!!!!!!!

Here, have a floor plan

Key learnings

Two things stuck out to me that the Star Wars hotel fucked up that I think the Star Trek version can do better:

🤷‍♀️ LARP too complicated: Give 'em credit where it's due, the Star Wars hotel fucking swung for the fences trying to make a multi-hero story guests could integrate with, but it just didn't work. Technical failures! Possible conceptual flaws! Too much stuff packed into the schedule!

The fix: Just make it mostly a hotel most of the time. One or two weekends a month, there's a two-day fully-immersive LARP adventure that people explicitly book separately, and it's more expensive (more on that later). But at all times, hotel staff will be in uniform with division colors that make sense: concierge and guest relations in red, support and janitorial in gold, teal for any medical personnel. I think that means the people working in food services have to wear that plaid/vest combo the Ten-Forward staff have on, but there are certainly worse outfits.

🌴 No resort: The food at the Star Wars hotel was good, but there was no pool and no other luxury resort type stuff to do. It didn't sound relaxing.

The fix: Putting an actual resort in the Star Trek hotel under the guise of a permanently-running Risan holodeck program. The sheer elegance of it!! When the weather is bad, hotel staff in gold uniforms can make apologetic comments about how the sim's malfunctioning.

Roleplay though

People are going to want to stay onboard the ship. That's good! The thing about the ship cabins is you can build them in maybe two semicircular layers (the rooms will need to be curved because these are quarters onboard the saucer section, naturally) and just bury them underground. They don't need real windows — you're putting screens in that'll show a space view, especially when the ship goes to warp and you can see those rainbow trails. Inside the semicircle there's a lot of space where you can put the other, bigger sets: the bridge, main engineering, Ten-Forward, etc. None of those have real windows either, and also I don't think it matters where you put them physically: just stick a pretend turbolift in front of all the entrances and make guests take those whenever they need to go there! One thing we're also doing is putting little hidden speakers everywhere that put out a small amount of shipboard white noise; it may not even be noticeable on a conscious level, but it'll be there and it'll be soothing. This speaker network is also a great way to make an actual announcement if there's a real park emergency.

During most of the month, I think the bridge and main engineering are mostly just photo ops — maybe you have to book a timeslot? Just so you're guaranteed some time with just you and your buddies? But I also think there should be opportunities for what I'm going to call mini-LARPing: you and your pals can book an hour-long session and the staff trains and then runs you through a short scenario. If you've ever played Artemis or the actual Star Trek VR bridge crew game they put out a while ago, you know where I'm going with this: for however long, you and your friends are now the crew of a genuine-ass Federation starship trying to survive a battle! It's fuckin' Kobayashi Maru time, motherfuckers!! Everyone gets their own station! Lights flicker! Mist shoots out of stuff! The whole bridge shakes! There might be a warp core problem — better call down to main engineering! Whoever's down there gets escape room-style minigames and puzzles to work out and help their shipmates. At some point — and this will happen in every run of every scenario — there'll be a very mist-forward "coolant leak" near the warp core that forces whoever's in the room to duck and roll beneath a descending garage-style blast door before heading up to the bridge to activate their station up there; bonus points if the player can work in a "We lost a lot of good people down there, Captain." Maybe there's an actor in makeup who menaces the crew on the main viewer from time to time (pick beforehand from a list of villains! want to fight Klingons? Romulans? a rogue Borg tactical sphere? etc). Can you see it? I can see it, and it fucking rules.

I must at this point mention that in my world, you can buy an add-on where a camera crew joins you, and they cut up the footage afterward to make you and your pals your very own mini-episode. Yes the editing and post-production are expensive and time-consuming; I'm creating jobs here!!!! Maybe …… okay, hear me out: there's an array of hidden fixed cameras and microphones built discreetly into the set, and also players are issued a combadge with an individual RFID tracker that pings the cams and mics, so they only save footage when a player comes close. After the players are done, a machine algorithm uses the data gathered to assemble a rough timeline of each player's material and create a draft movie that a human editor can pick up and fine-tune. Yeah?? When you check out, you get handed a USB drive that looks like an isolinear chip with your mini movie on it, and maybe another one with all the raw footage just in case you're feeling ambitious!!!!

For one or two other weekends during every month, there's a heavily advertised, much more involved, and way spendier LARP for people who really want to get into it. It takes place over two days. There are lots more actors portraying characters necessary for the plot/gameplay. Don't bother packing for the daytime: all players are issued a uniform they get to keep afterward. Do I have any details on the scenario or RP? I do not. But I fully believe it's possible to construct something you could run over the course of a weekend that would keep a hundred paying guests occupied, amused, and delighted, provided you have a truly ridiculous amount of money and people, which I do because this is utter fantasyland.

Also it probably won't cost six grand. Probably??

Let's gooooooooooooo

The rest of the time — and I cannot stress this enough — the Star Trek hotel is just a very heavily and specifically themed all-inclusive resort that has nice, fancy rooms and luxury amenities plus bookable ship cabins and opportunities for photo shoots or quick one-shot roleplay adventures for the real heads. You don't ever have to enter those latter parts if you don't want to! You can just hang out at the resort and have fun with all the themed entertainment, which I must stress is going to be both in-universe plausible and great, with something for everybody. Yes, there'll be a daycare, and yes, Flotter will be there in some capacity to entertain the kids. The food hall is my favorite part by far; I could pitch you Trek restaurant concepts all day. Romulan gourmet soup stand. Gummi candy store staffed by Ferengi where all the offerings are shaped like alien bugs. A vending machine where you can get a jumja stick or a three-pack of those nutrient pucks Picard and his new friends kept getting in "Allegiance." There will be an entire plant-based food vendor with a wide variety of delicious options for all meals, and it will be run by Vulcans.

A word on the gift shop

Question for you: have you ever watched a Star Trek show and seen a Starfleet officer pull on a jacket or shoulder a duffel bag that had the words "STAR TREK" on it? If so, then friend, I want to know where you get your hallucinogens because I want to experience this exactly once. All of the gift shops on my hotel grounds sell responsibly sourced, highly thought-out, well-made items that would be in-world plausible and have no obvious branding. Of course you can get a hand-carved horga'hn, but let's go bigger. Why not a light-up Tox Uthat for your nightstand? Ressikan flute for you, queen? How about a whole-ass knife store that's nothing but various kinds of Klingon cutlery? There will absolutely be an entire tailor's shop whose whole job is to put you in the Starfleet uniform of your choice; there may or may not be a Cardassian managing the place who's got a 50/50 cheerful/menacing vibe going on. There'll be not one but two stores that sell little models of ships: the regular ones and the gold ones. Don't tell me you can't picture it!!!!!

I think that's about it

Thank you for coming along with me on this bespoke journey into 100% insanity; now can somebody put me in touch with the Star Trek licensing people and also give me a billion dollars to build all this? Okay, thanks a lot!!

For timeline purposes and because it's fun, I'm positing a version of Farpoint that got built after the events of the TNG premiere where the Denebians got their act together and just built a normal surface base without suborning an interstellar lifeform.

#star trek #we need this #you know it would work

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lovingksuki · 1 year ago

Text

✰ SECRET ADMIRER pt.2

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

an: guyyyyss it's hereeee. i hope you enjoy since i had many people asking for me to continue with this. i hope it is as good as the first part that btw you can read here

wc: 1,3k

the two went on a mission walking around the school and very non-suspiciously investigating whose hand that might be.

"i'm telling you! there's sato, iida and..." counted.

"are they even suspects!?" you mocked. "we have to be coherent about it. i don't even have a major relationship with them..."

"how could you possibly know what goes on inside other's head? i think you're being biased about it."

"what do you mean?"

"i know you want it to be one of the hottest in our class!" smiled diabolically.

"i have no idea what you're talking about." you sweated.

"maybe we should call that double colored guy and just ask a few questions..."

"no way... what are you insinuating?" you almost screamed truly shocked.

"that you have a slight cru-"

"I don't have a crush."

"admit it already."

"I'm not admitting anything. quit pestering."

"you're no fun at all. so... are we talking to Todoroki any soon?"

"no."

"psst, isn't that sero coming this way?" mina whispered looking ahead of the corridor.

the duo telepathically agreed to their next move and mina quickly went in action.

"hey, if isn't our fave tape boy! can I have a high-five?" the pink cheered lifting her hand.

the jet-black haired guy smiled playfully slapping hands with her. watching everything, you caught that glimpse of time needed to take conclusions on the survey.

"what are you two up to? feeling extra energetic today..." sero stated.

absorbed in your own thoughts, you simply couldn't answer any of the questions made, so pinky said in advance: "we're just too excited for the... the-"

"for what?"

"the new movie...! yeah! that one with the clowns. everyone is so hyped to watch it!" mina came up with some excuse.

"oh, so you like 'bloody nightmare' series too? man, me and denki are gathering people to go watch with us." he cheered.

you and mina eyed each other nervously while sero kept rambling about horror films. pinky swiftly poked your side sending the 'make him shut up' signal and you quickly catch the message saying:

"y-yeah! it would be super cool, but we need to... to... go to the 1b room! to dis- discuss the next match-"

"we're discussing the teams for the next training match!" mina rapidly came with an excuse ready to push you up the corridor. "see ya!"

"but guys... their class is towards the other side." sero warned confusedly.

"r-right! it's been months, but we still get lost... hehe!" mina sweated. she spotted a purple voluminous hair meters away. "shinso! wait up!"

and you runned away. sero chuckled observing the girls as another duo approached.

"'sup pal?" kirishima greeted. "it's a important matter so, could you share what are the girls planning? we have business with them."

"it's no use, we're gonna lose sight of them." said the blonde ready to walk away, but his buddy was fast to grab his shirt stopping his tracks.

"be reasonable, it's creepy to chase them around the school." eijiro whispered.

"what are you two up to?" sero crossed arms curious about the situation.

"nothing particularly important. girly borrowed something from bakugo." his heart he thought slightly laughing. "did them say anything about where they're heading?" asked.

"mina said they have something to do with class 1b, and i think they left with shinso." sero explained.

"not that eraserhead wannabe..." katsuki gritted teeth.

"well, no time to lose then! thanks dude." kirishima dragged his best friend away.

when the two males finally found the duo they were shocked to see you holding shinso's hand while walking

kirishima panicked turning to the blonde who watched that scene petrified. it was the second time eijiro saw that expression on his face, the first was when they watched all might last fight. that expression that indicates he started malfunctioning, his thoughts are running wild, and he is about to break.

when he finally inhaled, kirishima's heart skipped a beat thinking bakugo would explode at any moment. he prepared himself to restrain his friend from murdering somebody or start yelling like a psycho, but bakugo just hollowed his lungs right after.

watching deadpanned as you walked away giggling.

that behavior... it was truly concerning coming from him.

"are you totally sure?" mina whispered excited.

"it's a great probability, didn't you see that monstrosity of a hand!?" you whisper-exclaimed. "his grip almost crushed mine!"

"okay, but let's don't get ahead of ourselves, there's other boys to analyze." mina said carefully.

"right, but he's a suspect! and did you notice how he didn't hesitate or felt uneasy to hold my hand?"

"i'm not jumping to conclusions but he seemed too chill! it's almost unnatural coming from a person who wrote a love letter." mina spoke wisely.

"you're right." you pouted.

"what am i suspect about? love letter!?"

"aaaaaack! for fucks sake!" you and mina jolted. "y-you heard us?" you asked shyly.

"were you eavesdropping!?" mina confronted.

the boy leaned in the doorframe crossing his arms unphazed by the pink's attitude. "you're not even whispering... some of 1b even heard about how i have big ass hands and shit." he chuckled.

you looked over shinso's shoulder only to encounter monoma, kendo, shiozaki and komori confusedly observing at some distance. "h-hey guys..." and kendo smiled amused.

"he caught us, mina. what do we do?" you said fidgety.

"there's no other way now that he knows our secret. we must kill you." mina stated creepily serious to shinso, making him falter.

"ha. you almost got me there." he laughed mindlessly. after a couple of seconds staring at each other he came to realization. " you're joking,,, right?"

"why did you have to scare him like that? what if he go out telling others?"

"it's quite the opposite. he won't tell anyone if he believes it's confidential information. you can question my methods but not my results!" the pink girl explained confidently.

walking down the corridor in search for another male friend. now that the lunchtime was coming to an end the school was less fuzzy, and the groups concentrated in their usual places.

"uh... mina... you're not actually dangerous, are you?" you blurted.

she looked at you puzzled, as if that question was more complicated than it actually seemed. "why do you ask?"

"it's just because, you're my best friend, and if it were for me to have a psycho so close to me i would want to know..." you reasoned.

"don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "but like you said, we're best friends, that does mean i would probably hide a body for you."

"wait. what the-"

"kirishima it's been thirty minutes." the blonde stated impatiently.

the boys were sitting casually at their class waiting for the others to come grab their keys to the closets. p.e was the next hour.

"just be patient dude, when she arrives, you casually get up and go talk to her. do you remember the three steps?" the red haired pointed.

"don't scream, don't curse and look at her in the eye." bakugo grumbled a little skeptical.

when they heard high pitched voices and footsteps approaching the blonde jolted in his seat.

"there they are." kirishima whispered. "good luck soldier"

katsuki got up with a sigh, heart beating fast, he didn't even notice his feet leading him directly to you and almost fainted when you looked at him with those doe eyes.

"h-hey."

"hey!" you greeted rummaging your backpack.

"i was... i recalled that time last week you shared your notes and... i"

"you came to say thanks? it's alrighty! just gimme a shoutout whenever you need!" you smiled

his ears reddened. "y-yeah. but i was trying to ask if ya wanna grab milkshakes sometimes, my treat for the notes." katsuki managed to spill

"oh! i didn't expect that" you giggled thinking that was a cute way to invite someone to hang out. "sure. i provide the notes, you provide the milkshakes." you extended your hand "deal?"

he smirked satisfied shaking you hand.

"deal."

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #self insert #mha fluff #mha fanfiction #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #my hero academia

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year ago

Text

New In Town

Summary: Introducing Chapter One of my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death and Grief, Mentions of Book Boyfriends, Allusions to Disordered Eating, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Major thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me plot out this chapter. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It was happening again. You could feel him doing it. You knew without turning your head that the bastard had gone back to staring.

At you.

Gritting your teeth, you make a point of adjusting the skirt of your dress before returning your focus to Reverend Turner at the pulpit. Trying your best to ignore the hum of electricity in your veins, you find yourself wishing that you’d opted to stay home today. After all, you hadn’t been to church in ages.

So what on earth possessed you to return today?

It’s not like you were concerned for your immortal soul or anything. On the contrary, you and God were good. You were even on speaking terms again – now that you’d finally forgiven him for calling your Uncle Leon home before you were ready to let him go.

That had been nearly three years ago.

These days, your grief has taken a backseat in favor of running the town’s only bookshop, Baubles & Quills. Once owned by your Uncle, the store had become your sanctuary as you’d struggled to cope with the loss of the only family you’d ever had.

And now that you’d deemed life worth living again you’d apparently decided that attending Calvary Baptist Church’s Sunday morning service was a good idea. But the one thing you hadn’t counted on when you’d politely – and strategically – taken a seat in the pew closest to the door was that you’d end up sharing it with the likes of him.

That bounty hunter fella that you’d been hearing about for the last week. His arrival had practically sent your little town into a regular feeding frenzy. Word on the street was that he was investigating something that had to do with your old high school pal, Martin Westbrook.

At least that’s what Charline Marshall had said when she’d stopped by your shop to return a book she’d purchased because she didn’t care for the ending. While you weren’t usually one for gossip, you’d been intrigued by her, ah, description of the handsome stranger that had taken up residence just a few blocks south of where you lived.

Two Days Ago…

“His name is Ari Levinson. Kinda strange, right?” She’d whispered conspiratorially, running a hand through her copper colored tresses . “But he’s a tall drink of water with the prettiest blue eyes I‘ve ever seen.”

“Oh really?” You’d mumbled, frowning at the crease that adorned the spine of the paperback book in your hands. Another one for the discount rack.

“Mhm. He’s handsome all over.” Charline had continued, picking up one of your more elaborate looking bookmarks and pretending to study it before using it to fan herself. “And not only that, but…” She’d leaned in then, allowing her freshly manicured nails lightly graze your arm. “I think he likes me.”

“Oh? Has he come out and said that?” Your eyes had gone wide with feigned interest. Because of course the man would be into Charline Anne Marshall. Who wouldn’t be? The woman was beautiful and, what’s more, she knew it.

“Well, I mean…not yet.” The woman had let out a disappointed little sigh. “But I’m almost certain he will. I’m just giving him time to get settled in, you know?” She’d said, her perfectly painted lips curving into a smile as she held out a hand for her change.

“How kind of you.” Good Lord how you wished you could hurry things along so you could go back to enjoying your peace and quiet.

“Ari has already interviewed me twice. He even gave me his number, just in case I happen to remember anything else.” She’d tucked the cash from her return into her purse. “I think I might call him up and tell him that my memory works best after a couple of drinks. Think that’ll work?”

“I guess you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Even though you were annoyed, you’d pasted on a fake smile and closed the register, hoping that might be enough to convince her to end the conversation and move on already.

“Why, I think you just might be right.” Your unwanted guest held up the bookmark that was still in her grasp, her unspoken question left hanging in the air. “And this?”

“It’s on the house, Charline.” You’d patiently replied, bracing your elbows on the counter. “Best of luck landing your bounty hunter beau.”

“Well, aren’t you just a gem?” She’d all but squealed, sounding positively giddy as she took a step back. “You know, I bet if you spent a little more time out in the real world instead of holed-up in here with all these books, you’d probably be able to land a man too. You’d be awful pretty if you’d just put in a little bit of effort into it. I mean –”

“No thanks.” You’d simply shrugged, unable to summon up enough energy to be outraged by the dig.

It wasn’t worth the breath you would've wasted trying to explain why you were better off keeping the company of your book boyfriends. A real man required too much care and feeding for your tastes.

“If you say so, sugar. But–” She’d responded as she strode towards the door. “Oh! You should come to my next party. We’ll let Mary Kay sponsor your makeover.”

'No offense, Charline, but I’d rather put a campfire out with my face than attend your next Mary Kay get-together featuring you and ten of your mother’s closest friends.' You'd thought to yourself.

“Uh, maybe. We’ll see.” You’d hedged before turning on your heel and heading in the direction of the stockroom. “Enjoy the bookmark!” God, you’d never been so happy to hear someone exit your shop than you were at that moment.

Which brought you back to the present. You’re startled out of your reverie when the congregation erupts into thunderous applause, signaling the end of Reverend Turner’s sermon. You knew you were going to have to move quickly if you wanted to avoid any unwanted attention from other members of the flock.

Or worse yet: be forced into making small talk with Ari Levinson. Assuming that beast of a man actually possessed enough brain cells to actually string together a sentence or two. Which was a shame because he really was easy on the eyes.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t realize that now you’re the one who’s staring until you notice the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. Shit. The cocky lawman nods his head in your direction before having the audacity to mouth the word: “howdy”. It almost makes you wonder what his voice would sound like.

Would his southern drawl be thick and rough, or smooth and easygoing? Assuming he was southern, that is.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you make fast work of grabbing your things before scooting out of the pew, doing your best to sneak out of the service before everyone is formally dismissed. The absolute last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were like every other woman in this town who was willing to practically trip over herself just to get a good look at him.

On your way out you brush past Sister Mary Jo Winans, who is all too eager to follow you out the door and halfway down the front stairs.

So much for making a clean getaway.

“You’re not staying for the potluck?” She wheezes, gripping the railing as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Afraid not, Sister Winans.” You tell her while digging through your purse for your keys. “I’ve gotta go home and change so I can head over to the shop.”

“But it’s Sunday, honey.” The matronly woman huffs, adjusting the angle of her wide-brim church hat. “This is the day that the Lord has made. We are to rejoice and be glad in it. It’s all right there in the good Book.”

“Be that as it may, Sister, I’m afraid I can’t stay. Plus I wouldn’t feel right about eating when I didn’t bring a dish to contribute, so…” You offer up a one-armed shrug. “Next time.”

You also weren’t a fan of eating in front of people. You were always self-conscious about whatever you put on your plate, convinced that you were being judged for your choices. Your stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding you that you’d left some cottage cheese and fruit behind at the shop. That would just have to do until you found the wherewithal to make it to the grocery store.

“But–”

“Next time. I promise.” You kindly interrupt, hoping that she would just let the issue drop. “By the way, I set aside a copy of Joyce Meyer’s latest book for you.”

“You did?”

“Yep.” You confirm as you begin walking backwards towards the nearby parking lot. “Stop by anytime. We’ll consider it an early birthday present, alright?” Smiling when she nods, you toss her a little wave before speed walking the rest of the way to your car.

Unlocking it, you climb in the driver’s seat and slam the door before gunning the engine. Finally free, you peel out of the lot and turn onto the empty street. Needing to focus on something other than your thoughts about a certain bounty hunter, you decide to turn up the radio, praying for your traitorous brain to cooperate.

Yeah, no such luck.

“Fuck you, Levinson.” You spit, wishing that he was close enough to hear you right then. Because the way you saw it, the sooner he packed his shit and moved on, the better off you and everyone else in this godforsaken town would be. And if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay far away from you.

He’d have more luck getting information out of a drunk Charline than he would trying to get you to spill your guts. And the moment he threatened you, you were planning to call Bell’s Creek PD to let them deal with it. Until then, you had some empty shelves to stock. But first…

You were gonna need to find someone to cut you out of these damned spanx.

END

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year ago

Text

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since.

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something.

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile.

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy.

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy.

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers.

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck.

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page.

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.”

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around.

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there.

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him.

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.”

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive.

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm.

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor.

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual.

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back.

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.”

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.”

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands.

“You’re serious.” Eddie says.

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases.

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?”

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.”

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?”

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull.

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear.

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs

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just-dreaming-marvel · 5 months ago

Text

Love That Burns ~ Ending 1 ~ 44

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,210ish

Summary: Logan wakes up in the mansion, his conscience returning to 2023.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan’s head still felt like it was underwater. It was pounding and foggy. There was soft music playing nearby, barely catching his attention. Slowly, Logan's eyes opened. They struggled to focus on anything everything was blurry. But he was in a room—his room at the mansion. That wasn't possible, right? He was lying on his stomach on top of the already made bed. He was dressed and ready for the day—or had he fallen asleep like this? He couldn't remember. Pushing himself to turn over, he glanced at the alarm clock on the nightside, playing music and projecting a small hologram of the world.

Logan hauled himself off of the bed and out into the hallway. His movements were slow like he was sick or drunk or being weighed down by something. His eyes were barely open, trying to still figure out the haziness he was feeling.

The hallway was bright despite the dark wood, the large windows bringing in the sunlight. Children—Students of various ages were walking around, talking, and using their mutations. Logan’s eyes squinted as he noticed two familiar faces down the hall. Bobby and Marie. They glanced back at Logan, shooting him a smile before they walked off holding hands.

Logan couldn’t get his legs to move faster as he headed down the hall. He paused at one of the classrooms, where Kitty and Colossus were teaching a group of younger students. Nothing was making any sense to him. Was this a dream?

Blinking a few times, Logan turned to continue down the hall. Hank's laughter as the blue beast walked towards him caught Logan's attention.

“Morning, Logan,” Hank greeted with a chuckle as he walked past. “Late start."

Logan couldn't get himself to respond as he stared in shock, eyes tracking Hank as he walked the other way. Logan made it to the stairs. Gripping on the railing, Logan took the stairs slowly, not trusting any of his surroundings. He paused as he saw Storm standing at the bottom, helping a group of students.

“Storm,” he whispered unbelievingly.

He continued to the bottom of the stairs, eyes catching someone leaning in the doorway of the Professor's office. Her fiery red hair and outfit made it obvious who it was.

“Jean,” Logan gasped. But that wasn't possible. Jean was dead. He killed her himself.

Jean looked over and smiled at Logan. “Hey, Logan,” she greeted.

“Jean,” he repeated, still in shock as he made his way over to her.

"Are you okay?” Jean noticed the shocked expression on his face.

“You’re here.”

"Where else would I be?"

Logan’s hand went to touch Jean to see if she was real when a hand caught his arm.

“Whoa,” Scott said, making his presence known. “Easy, pal."

Logan couldn't help but chuckle. “Well, some things never change,” he said. “It's good to see you, Scott."

“Uh-huh,” Scott was clearly confused. He slipped past Logan. “See you later, Jean. Professor.” Then he left.

"Logan, is everything all right?” Jean wondered.

“Yeah," he breathed out. “Yeah, I think it is.”

Jean, still not believing Logan, left to let him talk to the Professor. Charles was sitting behind his desk, reading over something. Logan stepped further into the room.

“You did it," he said.

“Did what?" Charles questioned. “Logan, don't you have a class to teach?"

"A class… to teach?”

“History."

“History... Actually, I could use some help with that.”

“Help with what?”

“Well, pretty much everything after 1973. I think the history I know is a little different.”

“Welcome back."

“It’s good to see you, Charles. It's good to see everyone.”

“Well, I had a promise to keep. You and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yeah.”

"What's the last thing you remember?"

“Uh, drowning. And—Y/N! Where’s Y/N?”

~~~

Logan's legs were not moving fast enough. Charles barely said your location before he was off; no one could stop him. He needed to get to you. He needed to see you alive and breathing. He needed to feel your warmth. Logan rushed into the Danger Room, where you were instructing a group of older students. Not paying any mind to your students, Logan hurried across the room and took you in his arms.

“Logan!” You squealed as he squeezed you tightly. The group of students laughed behind you. His head buried into your neck while his arms pinned yours to your sides. As soon as you felt tears hit your skin, knew that something was wrong. “Uh, class dismissed."

The students quickly gathered their things and left, leaving just the two of you in the Danger Room.

“Logan,” your tone was soft and full of concern, "what's wrong?"

Unable to hold it back anymore, Logan collapsed onto his knees. His arms moved to wrap around your legs as the dam broke and the sobs let loose. You tried to kneel down in front of him, but his grip was unrelenting. Your hands found his hair, gently combing through it.

“Was it a nightmare?” You asked. Only sobs in response. “I'm sorry about our fight and that I caused it… I didn’t mean that you needed to go back to your room… I struggled to sleep, too. You know I can't sleep much without you.”

“It wasn't that," Logan muttered through the tears.

“Then what—“ You stopped with Charles entered your head.

“It’s him,” he said into your mind. “He’s back.”

You gasped, knowing what Charles was talking about. “Oh my gosh, Logan… did you... have you... are you the Logan that came back to 1973?”

Logan’s head nodded against your legs. “Yes.”

“Oh my gosh, Logan!” His grip loosened enough for you to fall to your knees in front of him. You wrapped him up in a hug. “Welcome back.”

“You died… again.”

“I know, I’m so sorry.”

“I drowned, and I didn’t know if I would ever see you again."

"You can't get rid of me that easy, honey.”

Logan pulled back so that he could see your face. “Honey?” He took your left arm and pulled it so that he could see your hand. More tears came as he saw the ring on your finger. “We’re married... You're my wife... I'm your husband.”

“Well—“

You couldn’t get the rest of your thought out with Logan's lips pressed against yours. He was kissing you like he hadn't in years. Which it sure felt that way to him. His hands held your head as your hands went around to his back. You let Logan take the lead. He needed this a lot more than you did. When he began kissing down your neck and his hands started roaming, you let out a laugh.

“We should take this somewhere more private,” you told him.

“Yeah. Okay.”

He kissed your lips before pulling away. He didn't make a move to stand though, as his large, rough hands came up to carefully cradle your head. He sighed, his eyes shining with pure love and tears. You could tell he still had a lot weighing on him.

“What's wrong?” you asked quietly.

His thumbs gently rubbed against your checks. “It’s just… you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

“Logan,” his comment had you suddenly growing shy.

He pecked your lips. “Let's take this somewhere else."

~~~

Logan had carried you up to your room before ravishing your body for hours. He needed to feel you, every inch of you. Eventually, the two of you laid cuddled up in your bed.

“Tell me your story," Logan whispered, his fingers absentmindedly drawing patterns on your skin. “Tell me our story.”

“Well, I died in front of the White House that day,” you began. “I won’t up here in the lab. Charles and Hank informed me of what happened, my phoenix power we didn’t know I had. I tried to find you, but Charles said that things would work out the way they were now supposed to. I had to trust that. So, I’ve been here as a teacher and X-Men member since then.”

“When did I show up?”

“2001. With Rogue. You didn't know who I was; Stryker had erased your memory. He had pulled you from the river that day and kept you for years. It was hard on me when you showed up without your memories, though I knew that would happen. It allowed me to understand how you must have felt for those few days you were there in 1973. You helped us save Rogue from Magneto.”

“So that was still the same?"

“That happened in your timeline, too?”

"Yes, you... you tried to sacrifice yourself for Rogue. I was terrified, though; I didn't fully understand who you were at the time.”

“Yes, so I guess it was the same.”

“What happened next?”

“You left when I woke up. You headed to Alkali Lake. You returned with no new information. Stryker attacked the mansion that night. He took me, Scott, and Charles. You pulled me out of his mind control. I ended Stryker that day.”

“That same thing happened in my timeline, though Jean died that day.”

“Jean saved us. She would have died if it hadn't been for Kurt.”

“Good,” Logan nodded. "Was there a cure made?”

“Yes, but as soon as Hank and Charles realized that it was being made from a mutant child, the government shut it down.”

“Wow. That's definitely a bit different than my version… What happened next?”

“We left for a few years, needing some time to figure us out. You build us a beautiful house in the Canadian mountains. We lived there for years, learning how to have a relationship and be a couple. You proposed there, and we got married. Well, it wasn’t an official marriage. Just some declarations of love between the two of us."

"Do you want to make it official?”

“Seriously?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my entire life, sweetheart. Marry me again. This time for real.”

"Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, James.”

Logan captured your lips with a heated kiss. Still kissing you, he moved to hover over you. You smiled in the kiss before he pulled away, pressing kisses around your face.

“Logan!” You giggled. “I'm not done!”

“The stories can wait, princess. I’ve got to remind my wife again of just how much I love her.”

~~~

You continued telling your story the next morning. Logan learned that the incident in Japan had happened just as the one in his memories. The two of you had ended up on your Hawaii trip, turning to the mansion permanently afterward. The two of you had been there ever since.

“So, you've only died twice?" Logan questioned, the concern pressing on his mind.

“Yes,” you replied, softly caressing his face as the two of you lay in bed, facing each other.

“Good. And you... you know the truth about that power?”

“That it could eventually kill me? Yes. It’s actually the reason why we were fighting the other night. There’s a mission that you deemed too dangerous for me to go. You wanted to bench me.”

“That’s still not gonna change, honey.”

“Yeah, well, I have a feeling that once Charles informs the others of your... condition, you'll be benched too.”

“As long as you're by my side, I really don't care.”

You smiled before pressing a kiss to his nose. “You’re just a big softie, aren't you?”

“Only for you, baby, only for you.”

~~~

Charles gathered the adults in the mansion together at noon. He and Logan informed everyone what had happened, and with the help of Jean and Charles’ powers, everyone was shown a glimpse of it. You stood by Logan the entire time, holding his hand in support.

“So, what about you, Y/N?” Scott asked. “Where are your thoughts on all of this?”

“Logan is still my husband,” you responded. Logan gave your had a reassuring squeeze as you spoke. His eyes were completely focused on you, like he was in a loving trance. “I knew that this would eventually happen since 1973. It was a risk I was willing to take knowing that that future Logan I met loved me so much.”

“But your memories aren't the same,” Bobby commented.

“You’d be surprised how many memories are exactly the same,” Jean responded with a knowing smirk.

“And the two of you are still going to insist on this husband and wife thing, though you've never actually married each other?” Rogue questioned.

“Actually," Logan drawled as he dropped your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against his side, “we want to make it official.”

“Yeah," you agreed with a bright smile, "and we want to make sure everyone's a part of it.”

“If it’s alright, Professor, we'd like to use the gardens for the wedding.”

“Of course," Charles smiled. “And my finances are at your disposal as well.”

“Yay!” Ororo exclaimed. “We’re going to have a wedding!”

Logan looked down at you, smiling widely. “We're going to have a wedding," he whispered. He leaned in and kissed you softly. You sighed as you leaned into him further.

“I love you," you whispered once you broke the kiss.

“I can promise that I love you more, sweetheart.”

next chapter >

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m4rv3l-girl · 18 days ago

Text

Hi - Part 2

Warnings: lots of fluff. Some kisses..? 🤭

Y/N stood outside the small Italian restaurant, one hand gripping her purse strap a little too tightly, the other resting on Leo’s shoulder. He was squinting up at the lights in the window, a stuffed dinosaur clutched in his arms, and she could already hear his stomach grumbling.

“Do you think he’ll be mad?” She thought.

Leo blinked up at you. “Is Mr. Bucky still coming?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, though your heart twisted a little. “He’s… He’s coming.”

The truth was, she didn’t want to cancel. After all this time, after the slow, shy messages that turned warm and steady. After the phone calls that started awkward and ended with her laughing so hard she nearly cried. Bucky had asked her to dinner, and she’d been ready -until the sitter cancelled last-minute.

She texted Bucky, apologizing and saying she’d understand if he wanted to reschedule. But instead of brushing it off, he’d replied: Bring him. I'd love to see him again.

Her chest had swelled with emotion when she read it. And now, standing outside, nerves fluttered again.

Inside the restaurant, warm golden lighting made everything feel soft and intimate. She spotted Bucky right away, back corner booth, dark henley shirt stretched across his shoulders, fingers drumming nervously against his water glass. He looked up, caught her eye - and stood immediately.

“There they are,” he said, grinning wide.

Leo hesitated behind her leg for a short moment, until Bucky crouched a little and held out his flesh hand, like they were just two old friends meeting up again.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky said. “I missed you.”

Leo lit up like a firework, running toward him without hesitation. “I brought Dino!”

“That’s awesome,” Bucky laughed, sweeping him up in a one-armed hug before setting him gently down in the seat beside him. “Hope you’re hungry. I already asked if they had chicken nuggets for superheroes.”

Y/N stepped closer, heart in her throat, not quite sure what she expected, but certainly not this. Not the ease in which Bucky greeted her son. Not the way he looked up at her with warm eyes and said, “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded slowly, slipping into the booth across from them, watching as Bucky pulled an extra chair over so Leo could sit comfortably beside him. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Dinner was… easy.

Leo told him all about his dinosaur collection, the Lego tower he built last week, and his big plans to be a superhero, an astronaut and a “dinosaur doctor,” depending on the day. Bucky listened intently, nodding along like every word was gold. Y/N caught him smiling at her more than once - especially when Leo got sauce on his nose and Bucky gently wiped it off like he'd done it a thousand times before.

When the waitress came by to ask about dessert, Bucky raised his hand before Y/N could even brush it off. “Two bowls of vanilla with chocolate chips, please. And whatever Mom wants.”

She blinked. “Bucky, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said gently. “I missed you both.”

Her heart squeezed, and she reached across the table, fingertips brushing against his. His hand turned to hold hers, calloused and warm.

“Bucky!” Leo interrupted, bouncing in his seat. “Can you come to our house and see my Lego collection? It’s so big! Bigger than a T-Rex!”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her grip on the menu tightening. She hadn’t prepared for this. But she watched as Bucky’s eyes lit up, his smile genuine. “I’d love to, buddy. Maybe after dessert, we could swing by, just for a little bit, if it’s okay with your mom?”

Leo’s grin was so wide it could have split the earth in two. “Yes! Mommy, can we?”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep the surprise from her voice. Her mind racing back to the state her home was in currently… “Well, it is getting late, and you have school tomorrow, but if Mr. Bucky doesn’t mind a messy house, sure. Just for a bit.”

Bucky’s eyes never left hers as he nodded. “I don’t mind messes, not at all. Besides, I can help clean up, if you want.”

The kindness in his voice made her want to melt into the plush seat. She’d never had a partner who was so eager to be a part of Leo’s life. Some of the men she’d dated had looked at Leo as a burden, an inconvenience. Baggage. But not Bucky. He treated Leo as if he were the most important person in the world.

The dessert arrived, and Bucky made a show of sharing bites of his ice cream with Leo, making exaggerated yummy sounds that had the boy giggling. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at ease in public with someone other than Leo. Bucky’s presence was like a warm blanket she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Leo’s hand reached up and nudged Bucky’s. He was just testing the waters…seeing what would happen.

Bucky looked over, meeting Y/N’s gaze for permission, and then took Leo’s small hand in his. The gesture was so simple, so unassuming, yet it felt monumental to Y/N. “You okay, kiddo?” he asked, and the affection in his voice made something inside her crack open a little wider.

“Yup, I’m just really happy, Bucky.” Leo beamed, swinging their joined hands.

The walk to her apartment was short, but it felt like a mile as the gravity of the moment settled over them. Bucky talked to Leo about his favorite superheroes, the conversation a gentle reminder of how much he’d integrated himself into her world. His questions about Leo’s life weren’t probing but genuinely curious, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the caffeine from her espresso.

When they reached the apartment building, she took a deep breath. "So, the apartment is a bit.. chaotic."

Bucky just chuckled. "I've seen worse," he assured her. "Remember, I've lived through two world wars and fought aliens. I can handle a few Legos."

The apartment was indeed a whirlwind of toys and art projects, but it was a lived-in warmth that greeted them rather than chaos. Bucky stepped in, eyes scanning the room before landing on a particularly impressive Lego structure. "Wow, Leo, this is like a castle for ants!"

Leo looked up from where he was rummaging through a bin, his cheeks red from the cold. "It's for my mini figures!"

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck at the clutter. "He's got quite the imagination," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Bucky crouched down to examine the castle closer. "It's incredible," he said, looking up at Leo with admiration. "You're a real architect, pal."

Leo beamed with pride, and Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. This was what she had hoped for, someone who could see the joy in her son’s creativity instead of just the mess it sometimes created.

“What’s an arpichect?”

Y/N looked up from the kitchen where she was putting the kettle on for tea. Leo’s question echoed through the hallway, a mix of curiosity and wonder. She watched as Bucky’s eyebrows shot up and he chuckled. “Architect, buddy. It means you design and make buildings.”

Leo nodded, his eyes wide. “Oh! Like Tony Stark!”

“Exactly like Tony Stark,” Bucky said, ruffling his hair. “But instead of iron suits, you build Lego cities. Which is much cooler.”

Leo’s eyes lit up even more, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. She hadn’t seen him this excited to show off his toys in a long time. As they moved into the living room, she saw the pile of laundry she hadn’t had time to fold and the books scattered on the floor. The place wasn’t a disaster, but it certainly wasn’t showroom ready.

“Buck, I’m sorry about the..mess,” she said, gesturing to the pile.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Life is messy, doll.”

They sat on the floor, the three of them, while Bucky listened to Leo’s elaborate narratives about the battles his mini figures faced every day in their Lego fortress. He nodded along, asking questions about the characters and the rules of their world, his genuine interest lighting up the room. Y/N found herself relaxing into the couch cushions.

“Okay, Honey, time to say goodnight to Bucky. It’s bedtime.” She picked Leo up into her arms. She turned to Bucky. “Do you, uh..mind waiting here for a minute while I put him down..?”

“Of course not,” Bucky said, his smile not wavering. “I’ll just keep an eye on the fortress, make sure the aliens don’t attack while the king is asleep.” Leo giggled, snuggling into his mother’s neck. “You’re the best, Bucky!”

Once Leo was tucked in, his eyes drooping with exhaustion from the excitement of the evening, Y/N stepped out of the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe, watching Bucky picking up stray Legos and placing them back into their respective containers. He glanced up at her, a question in his eyes.

“‘Thank you…” She hummed.

Bucky looked over his shoulder, his smile never fading. “For what?”

“For making him feel so special, for making me feel… seen. For not being bothered by the mess or the bedtime routines. For just being you,” she said, her voice thick with unshed emotion.

Bucky paused, his metal hand hovering over a half-constructed Lego spaceship. He turned to look at her, his eyes softening. “You and Leo, you’re special. Nothing to thank me for, I just want to be here for both of you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. In the quiet of the dimly lit hallway, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Gratitude, yes, but also something deeper, something that whispered of hope.

"You know," she began, "I wasn’t sure how this would go. I mean, dinner with a kiddo and all."

Bucky shrugged, his movements deliberate and gentle as he put the last of the Legos away. "I’ve had worse dinner dates," he quipped, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Y/N rolled her eyes, a laugh bubbling from her chest. "You’re not so bad at this wooing thing, Bucky.”

He looked up, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s all just playing to the audience, doll,” he said, gesturing to the now organized Lego city.

The two of them sat in the quiet living room, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background. She studied him as he leaned against the couch, his legs sprawled out in front of him. There was something about his ease in her space, his willingness to engage with Leo that made her feel like she’d known him forever.

“So, tell me about your day,” he said, changing the subject. “What’s new in the life of a superhero mom?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing. “Well, it’s been full of snacks and cartoons, mostly.” She sat down next to him on the floor, her legs folding under her. “But nothing compared to fighting bad guys, I’m sure,” she added with a playful nudge.

Bucky chuckled, setting aside the last of the Legos. “You’d be surprised. Some parenting battles seem just as fierce, just with more spit-ups and bedtime stories.”

They shared a quiet moment, the weight of the world outside their door seemingly forgotten as they talked about the mundane and magical parts of her day. Bucky’s curiosity about her life was refreshing, and she found herself opening up more than she had with anyone in a long time. As the conversation flowed, she realized how much she enjoyed his company, not just because of the joy he brought to Leo, but because of the comfort he brought to her.

“You know, Bucky, I never thought I’d be here, doing this. Being a mom, I mean,” she said, her voice soft. “I always thought I’d have someone to share it with.”

He turned to her, his gaze earnest. “You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N. And Leo’s a lucky kid to have you. But maybe, you weren’t meant to do it alone.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of pity or condescension, but all she found was sincerity. She took a deep breath, letting the words wash over her like a gentle wave. It was the kind of thing people said all the time, but from Bucky, it felt like a declaration.

The silence grew, and she knew she had to respond, to tell him that she appreciated his words, but she was afraid of what admitting her feelings would mean. Before she could speak, Bucky leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it’s not easy, raising a kid on your own. But you're not alone, not anymore." His hand reached out and took hers, the warmth from his touch seeping through the cold metal of his prosthetic.

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "Bucky, I don’t know what to say."

He squeezed her hand gently. "You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. For both of you." For the first time in a long time, Bucky felt like had purpose, had a life had..people.

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them back, not wanting to ruin the moment. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "Bucky, I…I don't know if I can do this."

He leaned closer, his grip on her hand tightening. "Do what, doll?"

"This," she whispered, gesturing between them. "Letting someone in, letting them love me and Leo. It's…it's been a long time since I've let anyone get this close."

Bucky nodded. "I understand," he said softly. "But I…I’m feeling things for you that I’ve never felt before. And Leo..I..he’s awesome.”

The words hung in the air, a declaration that seemed to fill the small room with warmth and promise. Y/N looked down at their joined hands, his metal thumb rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles. She felt the weight of his gaze, the quiet understanding in his eyes.

“I’m not saying it’s going to be perfect, but I want to try. For you, for him. For us, if…if you’ll have me,” he added, his voice barely audible.

Y/N took a shaky breath, feeling the gravity of the moment. This was the first time in years that she’d allowed someone to get this close to her and Leo. But with Bucky, it felt different. It felt right.

“I want that too,” she said, finally meetinghis gaze. “But I’m scared, Bucky. What if I mess it up?”

He reached over and placed a comforting hand on her knee. “We’ll figure it out together, sweetheart. I’ve got your back, no matter what.”

The sincerity in his eyes was like a beacon in the dark, guiding her through her fear. She leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth spread through her, melting the ice that had formed around her heart.

“Okay,” she murmured, taking another deep breath. “Let’s take it one day at a time. For Leo.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “For Leo, and for us, if that’s what you want.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the air thick with the promise of what might be. Y/N took a sip of her now lukewarm tea, the comforting warmth seeping into her chest. She watched as Bucky’s eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she’d changed her mind.

“I want that,” she said, her voice a little stronger this time. “But I need you to be patient with us. Leo’s been through a lot, and I…I don’t want to rush into anything that might confuse or hurt him.”

Bucky’s thumb stroked her knuckles again, the gentle touch reassuring. “I understand. I’ve had a bit of experience with that myself.” His smile was sad, but it didn’t take away from the warmth in his eyes. “We’ll move at whatever pace you want to, Doll.”

The silence between them grew again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was like they were both standing at the edge of something big, something life-changing, and they were just taking a moment to appreciate the view before taking the leap.

Y/N leaned in, her heart racing as she placed her free hand on Bucky’s cheek. His skin was cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the heat of his hand. She studied the lines of his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he talked about her son, the gentle curve of his mouth when he talked about the future.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and she kissed him. It was soft and tentative at first, a question and an answer all in one.

Bucky’s hand slid around the back of her neck, his touch firm but gentle, guiding her closer. He kissed her back, his lips moving against hers with a kind of tender desperation that made her toes curl. It was a promise and a plea, a declaration that he’d be here, that he wouldn’t leave. When they parted, she felt a little dizzy, the world tilting on its axis.

“I won’t rush you, Y/N. I’ll be here, as much or as little as you need me to be,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers. “But I’ve waited a long time for this, for you and Leo. And I’m not going anywhere.”

A small smile played on her lips, her heart fluttering in her chest. “Good to know,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

They sat there for a few moments, just breathing together, their hands still intertwined. Then she pulled back, her gaze flicking towards the clock on the wall. It was later than she realized, the hands pointing almost accusingly at the time they’d lost in the warm cocoon of their conversation.

“I should probably get to bed, too,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “It’s been a big day for all of us.”

Bucky nodded, reluctantly letting her hand go. He stood up and offered her a hand to help her up from the floor. As they walked to the door, she couldn’t help but feel a little lightheaded. The night had taken a turn she hadn’t expected, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for what might come next.

When she turned the lock, he stepped closer, his eyes searching hers one last time before he leaned in and kissed her cheek, a soft brush of warmth that made her eyelids flutter closed for a brief moment. "Thank you for tonight," he whispered.

"Thank you," she murmured back, the words feeling inadequate for what he had brought into her world. The warmth of his body lingered even after he’d stepped away, leaving a space she hadn’t noticed before. She watched him go, his form shrinking into the night until he was just a memory.

As the door clicked shut, she leaned against it, her breathing a little too fast. A massive smile painted on her face.

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We’re just giving Bucky a fresh start and ignoring any spelling mistakes 😌

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fluff #fluffy #soft bucky #Give Bucky a fresh start #Bucky would make such a good dad

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