#like sir do you WANT to give me hearing damage??
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The dog I'm petsitting has such a loud bark it sets off the hearing damage alert on my phone. He's been screaming like a banshee for twenty minutes straight and I can feel my laptop's trackpad vibrating from how loud he is.
#like sir do you WANT to give me hearing damage??#he sees a person walking down the street and just loses his little doggy mind#he's a sweet boy though#i love him#even if I have to wear noise-cancelling earbuds to protect my ears from his bark
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hihii can i pls request churros w a martini & glass of water + lewis !! thank uu💗💗
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want to suggest your own story? then drop an order in the inbox! thank you for this one! i find myself on a lewis kick lately (i mean c'mon, he's just so charming)!
churros ("if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?") + martini (mafia au) + glass of water (aftercare) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, aftercare, roleplay, sane and consensual, power play, mafia boss!lewis, missionary sex, unprotected sex, "virgin"!reader, reference to au-typical violence
moanco was beautiful. it was the kind of place that felt picturesque. there was beauty to the area that left you stunned, even after all this time in it. it seemed like every day the sun shined.
but there was a small issue, you were.. wrapped up in a situation. you never expected yourself to ever find yourself involved with the mafia but here you were. in front of one the head boss of a division of a family that hailed from the united kingdom.
the man seated across from you was handsome. his dark eyes loomed over you like an impending force, the rings on his fingers looked expensive but could also deal damage if he were to throw a punch. surprisingly there were no guards around.
you were in his dining room, he smiled at you and then took a sip of his wine. you shifted in your seat unable to take a sip of yours, the nerves ate at your stomach.
"you look scared." he noticed, "there's no reason to be scared."
you swallowed, "i think i have good reason to be scared. you're a scary man, lewis hamilton." you tried to reach for your glass but found yourself too shy.
he chuckled, "i guess you should've thought of that before you took out that loan from the family. it wasn't a small amount either." he rapped his fingers against the expensive table, "actions have consequences, miss."
you replied, "i'll do anything to make up the cost, i've already told you my reasons for why i had to take the money." you swallowed, "it was greatly needed and i'll do what i can to make it all back to you, sir."
he rested his cheek against his hand and smiled at you, "sir, huh? i like the way you say it. comes off your tongue so easily. but, i can think of a few ways that you could make it up to me. i'm not an easy man to buy, dear."
you swallowed, "i don't know if i have much to give in all honesty." you ducked your head. you heard the chair lewis was sitting in be pushed back and him walk towards you. you caught sight of his perfectly shined shoes.
he took you by the chin and made you looked up at him. he smiled at you, most likely a lot softer than he would towards most people. he rubbed your cheek with his thumb. his rings felt nice against your hot skin. he said, "i could get a pretty price for you."
you leaned back, "no, no. please, anything but that. i..i don't want to be sold."
he crowded your space more, both hands now on your face. he raised his eyebrows at you, "well, you'll need to pay back somehow, right? you're running out of options, dear."
"please sir." you swallowed, "please, please, please. i.. i can't!" you felt the anxiety buzz in your mind
"if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?" he said, almost like a promise. he didn't want to hear your grovelling. he hated when people grovelled.
you leaned a little further into his touch, not knowing what else to do. you were running out of options, "i..i wouldn't mind being yours... personally. if i can pay it back through sex." you looked up at him, a glimmer in your eye as you hoped he'd accept your offer. it was all you had to give, to give him your body.
he chuckled, "you want to pay me with sex? i guess you must have a whole bunch of fun tricks then?"
your gaze adverted his, "um.. sir... i'm actually a virgin.. only i've ever touched myself." you felt pin pricks of anxiety along your neck.
lewis laughed, it was the kind of laugh that came from deep in the gut. he pulled you up to him from your chair, he looked down at you with a smiled, "you're willing to give em your virginity. well, aren't i special then."
slowly you were brought to lewis' large bedroom. this room alone was worth more than the rent of your tiny studio apartment in a bed part of town. you swallowed when his hands were on your back.
he already taken the necklace off of you and now he was slowly pulling down the zipper of your dress. exposing the skin of your back to him. he placed a hand in the center of your back and rubbed it, "mmm, so soft. so delicate. i could break you in two."
you swallowed, "you wouldn't, right?" you wanted to reassurance.
he chuckled as he got the dress down off your body. then wrapped his tattooed arms around you. he kissed at your jaw and you shuddered. he said, "of course not, it's going to take a long time to make it all back for me. i can't break you on my first ride, that's just a bad investment." his hands then lingered to the waistband of your cute red panties.
everything about you was painfully cute. you were dedicated to making it all back to him. to not be under the thumb of the mafia, but lewis had a hunch that it would take a long time before that happened.
and by the curves of your body and the softness of your lips. how pretty your breasts felt in his large hands. oh, he had every intention of keeping you around for a while.
he kneaded your breasts through your thin bra, he whispered in your ear, "someone was anticipating tonight. were you hoping to get lucky, miss?" he pinched your nipples through the thin fabric.
"i wanted to dress to impress, sir." you said meekly, "in case anything happened." you could feel his erection in his slacks as he rubbed himself up against you.
he kissed the base of your neck and said, "so sweet. maybe if you're a good girl, next time we meet, i'll get you something a little more expensive." it was clearly obvious that everything came from a value pack at a department store. not that he minded obviously, means he could rip them in the future and have them replaced with ease.
however the idea of ripping something off you that cost more than a semesters tuition also made something stir in lewis' gut. so many things to do with this little treat in his home.
he got you fully undressed then told you to get on the bed. he undressed as well and you got a good look at his toned body. you swallowed and tried to advert your gaze to show some kind of respect to the boss. he chuckled and said, "don't hide yourself, beautiful. you can look."
you made eye contact with him and he smiled at you. the most dangerous man in this part of the continent. he was smiling at you, and it made heat pool in your gut.
he didn't kill you on the spot, but rather he was about to fuck you as he got those calvin klein briefs off. when he exposed his hard cock to you, you wanted to look away again. but catching onto your tricks, he said, "eyes on me, beautiful. i like to see the woman i'm fucking's face." then got onto the bed with you.
you were soon under him. he had you by the hips as you rested on your tailbone. the perfect angle to slot his cock into you. you said, "i don't know if it'll fit."
he chuckled, a bit of danger in his tone, "oh. it better fit. or else i'm going to throw you to my boys and when they're done with you, anything will fit that pussy of yours." he could practically feel the skip in your heartbeat. he grabbed at your hips as he rubbed his cock across your slick pussy. he didn't quite sink in yet, wanting to tease the both of you first.
"please, sir. don't hurt me."
"oh, no, no. when you came into my house. i was wondering how to clean up your blood all over the wall. they don't make that paint colour anymore. but watching you over the course of our meal made me hungry for something else." he took his cock in one hand and guided his cock into you, "in this world, my dear. when you are given a gift, you hold onto it. and you, are quite the gift." he pressed a soft kiss against your cheek.
you winced at the feeling of his cock inside of you, the heft of it in your sweet pussy made your insides feel warm. you shivered a little and his lips were on you.
"where have they been keeping you all this time." he kissed at your jaw, "mmm, you feel perfect." he rocked against you. he could feel the pleasure go to his brain, "such a pretty thing. yeah? you like this?"
you nodded and reached out for him. you were getting into the groove of it all. you could feel the heat across your body, it almost felt like burning. your core throbbed for him. this dangerous man fucking you.
he chuckled, "perfect fit for me, and on your first time too. sometimes it takes a while for little things like you to fit around me. but you're just a nice fit. should i be worried that you were lying to me about being a virgin."
you batted your eyelashes at him, "no, sir. i wouldn't lie to you." and he pressed his chest up against yours. you held onto him tighter as the two of you moved together. your movements were soft and unsure. a sign that you hadn't done this before.
he captured your lips once more and moved faster. he found his pace as he thrusted. he could feel the sweat on his back and your nails digging into his skin. he swallowed back the pleasure as he continued to move. you were just so fucking cute.
who let you even take that loan out? they should've just given you the money based on how precious you looked. there should've been no questions. he heart hammered deep in his chest. for such a cold man, when he was with you it all melted.
he could feel the pleasure hit him in the chest as he thrusted up against you. god, you were perfect. the kisses were sloppy and soon his pace had gained enough speed that it was a tad erratic. he yearned for the rush of pleasure that was hitting all the right parts of his brain.
you really were something.
"sir." you said.
"shh. shh, be a good girl. just let me fuck you." his voice was a tad tight.
you dug your nails into his strong shoulders, right up against his tattoos. his lips were on you as you moaned against him. you tightened your legs around him as he bumped his cock into you. when you pulled away. you gasped, "i love you."
he chuckled, his smile big at the sight of your blissed out state, "oh don't worry, honey. i love you too." a slip in the little play you two were having. but he couldn't help it, not when it came to his wife. (oops).
you tensed up and held onto him tightly you. you came around his cock, a wet ring formed around the base of his heavy cock as he continued to bury it inside of you. you let out a small noise and it drove him wild.
he continued his pace, it was a little erratic. this was less the sexy roleplay you two were doing and more two lovers tumbling in the sheets together. oh well, lewis didn't care. he just loved the feeling of you.
close after your orgasm, he had his own. he held onto you by the sides then kissed you on the lips. he groaned into the kiss and tensed up as he finished inside of you. when he went over the peak, he relaxed against you. his face ended up in your chest as he relaxed against you.
"mmm, honey." you said softly.
"you are crazy." he said as he looped an arm around you. he kissed the side of your face, "when i said we could try anything, i wasn't expecting mean mafia boss takes advantage of a poor girl."
lewis hamilton was your husband, had been for two years now. while the fact he was a head boss was true, you were far from an innocent young lady who fell into his trap. you were his wife, the most precious thing to grace this planet. lewis worshiped you like a divine being, so it was hard for him to be so rough with you.
he kissed at your face and said quiet 'i love you's as he made sure that every inch of you was okay. that he didn't take your little roleplay too far tonight.
he got you in one of his old t-shirts, then he got you under him. not to fuck you again. but to just hold. his grip on you was firm, but not painful. he was one of the scariest men in europe. but in the warm intimacy of your shared bedroom, he adored you.
eventually he looked at you, those dark eyes gleaming in the yellowing light of the lamp. he traced patterns across your arm as he said, "next time, how about you be the mean mafia boss. and i'll be the poor in debt fool. maybe you can put those rope skills to use.' his bare thigh rubbed against your soaked cunt.
you held his face then kissed him, "sounds like a plan to me, mister hamilton." then smiled at him. <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#lewis hamilton x you#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton#lh44 smut#lh44 fic#lh44 x reader#lh44#f1 mafia au#mafia au#formula one smut#formula 1 smut#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#f1 smut#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 rpf#f1#f1 imagine
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Fatal shortcut
You know those days. The traffic is murder. You can't go another inch. Your destination is within reach, but it will take you three green lights and at least 20 minutes to cover the last 100 meters. Bloody hell! Honk the horn? It's no use… But now carefully pull onto the green lane, then cut across the high school parking lot and you're there. Why do you have your baby, the Mercedes G-Class, after all? I put on the turn signal, the car takes the sidewalk like nothing, carefully into the parking lot, look left and right and…… BANG! Damn it, the Mustang has clearly taken my right of way. This is guaranteed to take longer than 20 minutes… The two morons in the car look like they only have their heads to wear football helmets and pour beer through their mouths. The typical stereotypical football college jock bros. The day just keeps getting better…
"Yo, Chuck! Bro, did you see what that punk did there?" "Sure, Brad! He definitely took your right of way." I try to protest. But I'm way too caught off guard when the guy, who is obviously Chuck, stands up in front of me. God knows I'm not small. I'm a well-trained, muscular six foot two. But Chuck is easily ten centimetres and at least 20 kilograms taller than me… He grabs my balls. Damn it, I want to punch him, but Brad's already got me from behind. And Brad is barely smaller than Chuck. "There you go, you little faggot!" Chuck hisses at me. "Are you lying in wait for your wankers in the parking lot again? But this time is the last time!" He spits in my face and his grip on my balls tightens. Brad turns my head in his direction and spits again. Then the two of them get into their car, put it in reverse. And disappear.
I stand there a bit like an idiot. I'm far from being small or a faggot. And the last thing Chuck and Brad were to me were wank templates. I mean, I have nothing against gays… But thanks no, not for me… I'll take a look at the damage to the car. It's no big deal, the Mustang looked worse. I get back in the car, drive the last few meters into the underground car park, throw my keys to Stephen at reception and ask him to take the car to the garage. When I get off work later, I'd like to have it done. He puts his hand to his temple and says "Sir, aye, sir". Hehehe, I don't mind hierarchies being recognized.
"You little faggot"… I can't get that phrase out of my head. Shit, I'm really unfocused today. Maybe I just need a distraction. I go to the gym during my lunch break. Somehow I feel the need to look like anything but a faggot. I train bare-chested. Dressed only in compression shorts. Not really appreciated here. But I don't care today…
Shit, I'm not in top form here either… What I normally lift without any problems is all too heavy for me today. At least it's the cross trainer… Even though I'm not really the cardio type. When I get in the shower, my cock gets hard. Shit, that's embarrassing. But I also have to say that there's really only premium meat running around here today. And I'm one of them. Definitely one of them. Even the clean-shaven guy in front sees it that way. Clear body language. It doesn't take long before I'm leaning against the shower wall. And for the first time in my life I get fucked… And how! I can hear the angels singing. It feels so good as the stallion cums in my ass. To say goodbye, he gives me a kiss and a pat on the ass. And he says loudly to one of his buddies. "What a waste for such a submissive pig to have such a magnificent cock!"
The fuck was great, but apart from that I'm really not myself today. I feel like I've been missing the last year. For the life of me, I can't remember a lot of things that happened. It's like I wasn't there. I'm glad when Stephen calls me at around 5 p.m. to tell me that my car is back. I thank him, pack up my things and go down to reception. Stephen grins at me almost insolently and says that this service is an exception and that he now has something good on me. Completely confused, I say, "I'm fine, dude" and take my car keys. But there is no black G-Class in my parking lot. There's a baby blue Mercedes SLK, in good shape, freshly polished. But it must be 15 years old. I press the key. The doors open. What the fuck?
I just want to get home, this day is a disaster. As I park the embarrassing car and walk past the concierge, Michael calls after me, "Hey, Johnny boy, can you give Mrs. Smith from 2316 a lift?" I turn red. I walk back to the concierge desk. "So what, my name is Jonathan, but it's actually Mr. Hays to you. And why would I stop on the 23rd floor when I live on the 38th. Besides, I don't know Mrs. Smith." Michael grins at me with his one-million-dollar smile. "Rough day, John, uh, Mr. Hays? You might as well ask the old lady if her drain is still acting up. And before you try to break into the wrong apartment, I understand you live in 2304." He hands me a package. I drive up to the 23rd floor. I give her the package. She asks if I can plug in the new coffee machine straight away. "Of course, mom," I say. I ask if her drain is working again. She says it would be nice if I could have another look. I ask if she has any rubber gloves. She nods. I pull the dirt out of the blocked drain. She slips me a dollar. I go to 2304, open the door. And drop onto the bed. It's right next to the door. 2304 used to be the room for the lady's maid from apartment 2312. On the one hand, I feel very much at home. But on the other hand, I should be somewhere else. Somewhere with a view of Central Park. With more space. I pull out my cell phone and start working my way through Grindr. Maybe I just need someone to take me really hard again today
That was a night of really wild dreams. Really wild dreams. But obviously everything is fine now. I feel fit. My morning wood has never been better. I stroke my chest. Didn't it used to be hairy? I'm fantasizing again. What it would be like to be a real guy. Successful, at least 1.82 m. Well, I'm not going to grow any more. But maybe that's because of some Italian roots or something. That's where I got my hairy armpits and good beard growth. Shit, I'm still hard as nails. So routine like every morning: wank, jog, shower and then off to the office. I should be there at 07:00 so that the mail is distributed and the conference tables are all set before the Masters of the Universe arrive at the office. It's 07:05 when I walk in the door. Stephen grins and just says, "Subway?" "Don't ask, bro!" I reply, rolling my eyes. I didn't really need a bachelor's degree for my job. Jogging in the morning to stay in shape is more important. At the end of the day, I usually have 15K steps and 40 floors on my fitness tracker. And that's not usually the end of it. By the time I get home, Michael usually has a number of assistance activities for me. But hey, the address on the Upper Eastside sounds impressive, which I would never normally have been able to afford as a young professional. I'll even put up with the apartment on the first floor with a view of the backyard and the job as a temporary janitor.
Of course it's embarrassing to still live with my parents. But if I wanted to afford my own place, I'd probably have to move 200 miles away from Down Town. And I want to stay here. That's important to me. Also for financial reasons. The subway tickets alone would be too expensive if I had to travel further. I mean, the little bit of scholarship… And I don't earn much in the kitchen of the cafeteria. Stephen and Michael are good friends. If I didn't have them, I wouldn't make it. But they have good contacts. Stephen in the office, Michael at home. They always know someone who needs a massage with a happy ending. Or a greedy college boy face for a blowjob. The men are usually well-groomed. Too well-groomed, actually. That's why I always look forward to my part-time job as a trainer at the high school gym. If I'm lucky, I get to meet Brad and Chuck. I mean, they're not gay or anything. We never make eye contact. But I still get to blow them sometimes. Even though, of course, it's pathetic when you're a sophomore in college sucking high school seniors. But fuck, you won't find cheesier dicks with a more pronounced scent of musk and sweat anywhere!
Yo, have I even dropped my name yet? It's Janusz, 19 years young and repping as an exchange student up in the Big Apple. Just call me Jonny, keep it chill. Hailing straight outta a tiny village near Krakow, Poland, in case that detail tickles your pickle. Still wrapping my head around this English gig… But let me tell ya, my French game is on point, or so the bros claim. Thrilled to be out of the parental crib and living it up in this wild city. Dang, the possibilities here are endless! Senior year vibes, you know what I'm saying? And now that I joined the wrestling squad, it's like BOOM! More close body action in a week than I got in a year with the 'rents around! Truth bomb: I make most of my cash tagging along with my wingmen Brad and Chuck, the school heartthrobs. I'm like their trusty sidekick. It's lit! Hoping to snag an athletic scholarship next year, fingers crossed. Sure, these two golden boys ain't wrestlers (legends in the bedroom, though), but football studs. It'd be epic if we could keep the bromance alive in college. Purely platonic, of course. Or not… 🤷♂️
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The Jessica Rabbit Effect (Shorts)
Buggy Headcanon+story. Buggy x Reader
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This is a series of random thoughts from the Jessica Rabbit Series
Buggy likes to be the little spoon at times, so if he's had a bad day will cuddle against his darling wife and let her take care of him.
You often have to do Buggy's hair. Since its a wild mess at the best of times when he returns from see its a bit of a ritual for him to shower, get into his favorite pants and sit between your thighs as you brush out his hair.
Has bitten your Thigh- earning a playful smack of the comb
Sometimes he will sing for you- He actually has a lovely singing voice but you'll be the only one to hear it.
Surprisngly decent at cooking- Hes no chef but sure as hell can make one hell of a breakfast sandwich.
YOU are the secret Perv of the relationship, Most would assume its Buggy but its actually You.
You had been stalking your prey for the last 5 minutes, Buggy was currently going through some crates he had kept in the closet- saying something about a old hat of sorts. It was the perfect angle however-
However he was unaware of his wife slowly stepping forwards him as he bent over once more to dig deeper in the box-
Closer...
Maybe right overrr..
Buggy Yelled suddenly as he felt fingers dig into the flesh of his ass as he turned and heard you cackle and quickly dash away as he gives chase.
He often returns from his sailing with gifts of whatever you like. Jewlery? More Sewing stuff? Books? Whatever you want he will snag for you.
You two secretly read raunchy novels together, Sometimes you will send him a book while he is away and he will read it at night before bed. Before sending one of his own-
Often resulting in the two of you speaking about the books in depth when together good or bad-
Buggy Takes care of you since you are more likely to burn out-
EXTRA! (Short Story)
You'd been hard at work, it seemed your business had been really taking off with now your two most demanding customers Sir Mihawk and Sir Crocodile. Who seemed to not only be picky about their fabrics but also seemed to damage their clothes constantly! You'd been busy to say the least.
Right now was no exception, You were standing in the Livingroom of yur home adding a few final buttons to a coat of Sir Crocodile, Letting your mind wonder as you worked tirelessly to have it completed before the morning-
As you worked you felt a hand touch your waist, giving a loud shrill yell as you spun around and swung-
"OW! What the hell!?" Your husbands voice sounded as you managed to whack his nose with a open palm. Buggy seemed to have just sailed in, still in his hat and coat and now rubbing his now sore nose with a frown-
"Im so sorry darling! I didnt realize it was you here let me get a pack for your nose-" You started, still coming down from the fright your husband had given you and went to flutter away to get a ice pack, However Buggy stopped you and pulled you close. Examming your face closely and frowning.
"Forget it- What are you doing up so late anyway? You should still be asleep.. You look tired-"
He grumbled, catching your look of confusion.
"Early? Its only- Um" You look to the large clock and blink in surprise at seeing the time. 1:37am!?
"O-Oh i guess I lost track of time an-"
"Did you eat dinner!?" Buggy cut you off again seeing your little work table and spotting only half finished tea and almost a finished pastry, most likely from the morning before- You bit your lip in embarrassment not even having the voice to say anything at being caught.
With a etched frown Buggy suddenly hoisted you up to his shoulder causing a loud yelp to leave you.
"Buggy!" You yell as you are carried like a sack to your shared master bedroom, red faced from the action.
"Buggy I still have to finish Crocodiles Coat an- EEP!"
A full palmed smack hit your behind from, Buggy- Cutting off your tirade as you felt your brain short circuit for a moment. Buggy walked into the master bathroom and set you on the counter, grumbling to himself as he started up a bath and went to your bedroom to start grabbing clothes.
"Buggy Boo-"
You started again but his hand floated to you and placed a finger to your lips.
"Id start undressing if I were you! Cause If I do it I may get handsy!"
Buggy called out from the bedroom as he grabbed more clothes. His free floating hand making a grabbing motion to your chest as if to give warning- You couldn't help but let a laugh out at this as you pushed his hand away playfully and slid off the countertop and getting undressed.
Setting your clothes in the hamper as Buggy came back in the bathroom with fresh PJs and already in his boxers only. He eyes looking over your figure in desire, Making you blush of course. Setting the clothes down Buggy removed his Boxers with dramatic flare of course and climbed in the water first, turning it off in the process as his other hand detached and guided you in with care. You leaning back against Buggy's chest and sighing in delight at the hot water. The stress already melting away as the two of you sat and soaked.
After a little while the two of you began to wash up, Buggy putting your hair up as the comforting silence and occasional splash of water from rinsing could be heard.
After the two of you smelled like sweet apple soap and the hot water had cooled to warm the both of you got out. Buggy taking the time to dry you off with a big fluffy towel while you braided his hair so it wouldn't tangle.
Getting dressed you walked into the bedroom and plopped onto the bed, starting to finally feel tired as Buggy laid next to you. His hands however leaving the room-
"Better?" Buggy asked as he looked at you, you leaning over and placing a soft kiss on his lips.
"Much, Thank you darling" You smile, just to glance over and see his hands returning with a series of items half hazard. A box of crackers, some cured meat, a few apples and some random half eaten cheese blocks. Paired with a knife of course you assume from his belt.
"Dinner of champions!" Buggy boasted, cracking open the wine bottle and handing it to you, rolling your eyes playfully as you took a sip.
The two of you seated on your marital bed, drinking straight from a wine bottle and eating the simple meal, chatting away about random topics.
"So you think the treasure is further south?" You ask, Buggy nodding as he took another bit of cheese and crackers in his mouth as he spoke with his mouth full cutting some meat for you and passing it over. "I 'Hink Cap Jo'n hit it und'er som' seri's of i'slands sout-" (I think Capt John hid it under some series of islands south).
"A Yellow VELVET Shirt!?" Buggy said dramatically making you laugh as you took some apple into your mouth and nodded. Buggy face scrunching up in disgust. "Come On, I'm a clown and I think that's tacky! Even for Crocodile!" You start to laugh as buggy passes the now half empty bottle to you.
Laughter and Chatter filled the bedroom till around 3am, when Buggy set the leftovers of the impromptu meal on the nightstand, the empty wine bottle on the floor and cuddled you close. Pressing you against his neck as you two felt exhaustion take you.
"Your not working for the next few days.. Gonna Burn Out-" Buggy mumbled as he felt your breath even out and cuddle closer to him. You nod "Fine.. But same goes to you" You yawn, Buggy patting your arm in agreement.
"Deal.. Now sleep" He grumbled closing his eyes.
"I love you Bugs"
"I love you More.."
#x reader#one piece#one peice x reader#one peice live action#buggy one piece#buggy the clown#buggy x reader#op buggy#captain buggy#reader insert#buggy the clown x reader#buggy thoughts#jessica rabbit effect
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Ghost finds out that you never learned how to ride a bike.
A/N: Thank you for suggesting this, anon. I hope your mother-in-law bought you a bomb-ass bike with a basket at the front and everything.
———————————————————————
“No way.”
“Yes.”
“Not even once?”
“What do you mean ‘not even once’?”
The conversation started when the lieutenant entered your shared office with two fingers bandaged together. Before you could ask what happened, his eyes caught yours, and he instinctively raised his hand, displaying the injury.
He explained that it happened while he and a group of soldiers were repairing one of the barracks. His pinky got caught in a plumping pipe, and because of the noise, they couldn’t hear him yelling at them to stop pushing. So the medic immobilised the fractured pinky by securing it to the ring finger to restrict its range of motion and let it heal.
He reassured you that the damage was minor and nothing to be concerned about, but he appeared defeated by having to bear this for the time being. You wished him a speedy recovery and then addressed the elephant in the room—how would he be able to carry the drill exercise scheduled for tomorrow?
He shrugged and admitted that the exercise had to be cancelled for now. Still, that wouldn’t pose a problem since military procedures are deeply ingrained and not easily forgotten.
“It’s like riding a bike.” He said.
And that’s what struck your current discussion—when you sneered at his analogy and admitted that you wouldn’t know since you never learned how to ride one.
He now stands there, speechless, and looks at you like you’re an alien that just landed on his back porch.
“Did you try and give up, or no one taught you how?”
“Do I look like I give up easily, Lt.?” You ask and shrug with your right shoulder. “No one taught me how to ride one.”
His eyes soften, and he looks out the window.
“Jesus Christ, kid.” He mutters, “Guess we found something else to do for tomorrow.”
“No way.” You state, shaking your head.
“Yes.” He replies and nods.
—————————— >> ———————————
Ghost left you a note on your desk this morning.
It said “warehouse, 10 a.m.” which was both weird and funny, considering how cryptic that message was for the purpose of the meeting.
You approach the warehouse and attempt to open the door, only to find that it’s locked. Suddenly, a sharp “pst!” grabs your attention from nearby, prompting you to follow the voice that’s guiding you behind the building.
There stands Ghost, with a worn-out bike next to him. He’s hugging a helmet with his injured hand and holding pairs of knee, elbow, and wrist pads with the other.
“Where did you find that?” You ask, pointing to the bike.
“In this warehouse; I found it a couple of years ago,” he replies. “I didn’t want to throw it away, so I fixed it and left it there.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You call this ‘fixed’?”
“It may not be a fucking Bianchi, kid, but it gets the job done,” he says and extends the gear towards you. “Put these on,” he orders, “I’ll help you with the knee pads.”
He kneels down, gently tapping your leg, indicating you to lift it.
“Isn’t that a little excessive?” You ask, “All that safety gear?”
He huffs and looks up at you. “Do you want to end up with a fractured pinky like me?”
“No, sir.”
“Lift your leg then.”
He adjusts your helmet and secures the knee pads, ensuring they’re correctly positioned. Then, he inspects the elbow and wrist pads to ensure they’re in the right place. Finally, he gives the saddle a firm slap, indicating you to hop on the bike.
You do as instructed, and he checks the bike, adjusting the seat height, handlebars, and brakes to fit your size. With you gripping the handlebars, he begins the lesson.
“Two things,” he says, raising the corresponding fingers on his uninjured hand. “Balance and coordination.”
“Balance and coordination.” You echo.
He nods, puts his hands behind his back, and paces around the bike.
“We’ll begin with the first one, which happens to be the most challenging, I must warn you,” he explains, “and then progress to the rest.”
“Balance is the hardest one.” You repeat.
“Yes, indeed. First, you’ll have to learn how to balance on that bike. Once you succeed, we’ll synchronise your turning, pedalling, and braking movements. Ready?”
“Not really.”
“Let’s get started then.”
—————————— >> ———————————
He’s right. Balancing that thing is difficult. At first, he instructs you to use your feet to push yourself forward while seated on the bike, gradually progressing to longer strides.
Then he commands you to pedal. He walks next to you, holding one of the handlebars with his uninjured hand and guiding the bike to help with balance. Occasionally, when he feels you have control, he lets go of the handlebar. But every now and then, you waver. And when that happens, he intervenes and puts his hand back on the handlebar.
And this continued until he felt confident that you were ready to give it your first try.
“What if I fall?”
“You will fall.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“You have to,” he insists, “that’s the only way you’ll learn.”
He stands behind you, holding the back of the saddle. He maintains his grip as you pedal, stabilising and guiding the bike. He jogs beside you, encouraging you.
And yes, there were countless falls. But each time, Ghost was there, lifting you up, brushing off the dirt, and urging you to give it another try.
The lesson began at 10 a.m. You have no idea what time it is now. Ghost has been so persistent that he must have also lost track of time.
“Lt,” you call out as you pedal for the hundredth time, “I think it’s time for a break; you must be tired as well.”
No response.
“Lt.?” You repeat.
Silence.
You turn halfway to address him, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Panic sets in, throwing off your balance, and you tumble to the ground once again. This time, he’s no longer there to catch you.
You look back at your starting point—Ghost is standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
You look at the bike and then back at him. Your eyes widen. You point your finger at the bike, then at yourself.
He nods and lifts his hand in the air, giving a thumbs up.
“I did it!” You shout and run towards him, guiding the bike next to you.
“I saw,” he replies, and his eyes crease in joy, “but why didn’t you ride it back?”
“I think I need more practice.” You explain.
“We can continue practising after our break,” he suggests. “Good job, kid; I’m proud of you.”
“It’s all because of you, Lieutenant,” you say, “thank you for everything.”
He chuckles and tilts his head.
“Look,” he says, lifting his injured pinky. “This one needs support from this one to heal,” he explains, pointing to his ring finger.
“So I’m the pinky,” you say, “because you, the ring finger, taught me how to ride a bike.”
He lets out a sigh, shifting his gaze to the ground.
“Depends on who you ask,” he murmurs, “maybe I’m the broken one, and you’re helping me heal.”
———————————————————————
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fic#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost mw2#ghost mwii#ghost modern warfare#ghost call of duty
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In Loving Memory
Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 4, prompt: Angst with Happy Ending
Tags: Modern AU, rockstar Eddie, plane crash, HAPPY ENDING, minor character death
words: 3.3k | AO3 | mature
“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. My name is Elizabeth Quinn, and I’m part of the cabin crew today. Thank you for choosing to fly with us. I hope you're enjoying your flight so far.”
Steve looks up at the owner of the soft voice to his right. It’s a young woman in a stewardess uniform with big brown eyes that instantly remind him of Eddie.
“Oh, hello. Uhm, yes, everything is fine, thank you.”
The stewardess smiles warmly. “I'm glad to hear that, sir. I wanted to discuss a situation we’re currently facing. As you may know, flights can sometimes be overbooked, and today we have a few more passengers than seats available in first class. We’re looking for a volunteer to move to another section of the plane. In exchange, we’re offering a significant compensation package, including a voucher for a future flight, a complimentary upgrade on your next trip, and a gift card for our in-flight shopping.”
She looks apologetic, and he can tell she hates asking him this. It’s not a particularly long flight, and he mostly booked first class because that’s what his father’s secretary always did for him the few times his parents had him fly to wherever they were. So giving up his seat for a four-hour flight doesn’t seem too bad.
“Yes, I can move to another section of the plane. That’s okay,” he tells the stewardess and is rewarded with a bright, genuine smile adorned with dimples. Another thing that reminds him of Eddie. He pushes the ache in his chest down and returns the friendly smile with one of his own.
“Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Harrington. If you have any specific preferences or questions, please let me know. Your understanding and cooperation greatly help us ensure everyone has a comfortable flight.”
With that, she leads him to another part of the plane, presumably Economy class.
“This one right here, Mr. Harrington. It has extra legroom and is situated next to an emergency exit. I will make sure you have a pleasant flight with us. You can call me with the call button or find me at the front or back of the plane.”
Steve nods with another smile that falls as soon as she walks away to prepare for takeoff. His thoughts wander back to the reason he’s on a flight to LA today.
Eddie.
He still wonders if this is a good idea. When he bought the ticket to LA, he was sure of it. The panic that had constricted his throat had lessened as soon as he pulled up the website of the airline and he felt like he could breathe again for the first time when he got the confirmation mail.
It’s a long shot, he knows that. Surprising Eddie in LA after everything that happened but he hopes it’s a grand enough gesture that maybe Eddie will forget how much Steve has hurt him. Robin suggested to just call Eddie and apologize, explain to him why Steve was so reluctant to take the next step with him.
The truth is, Steve doesn’t think he could handle it when Eddie didn’t pick up the phone or just hangs up on him before he can say his piece. If Eddie decides that it’s too much for him, that Steve’s too much, too damaged, then be it. But he needs to see Eddie one last time, drink in those beloved doe eyes one more time.
Steve thinks about why he and Eddie fought the last time they saw each other. Growing up in a very conservative household, Steve always suspected he might like men as well as women, but he denied any attraction toward men because of what his parents might say. He knew they wouldn’t accept him.
He was 31 when he walked into a bar in Chicago with his best friend Robin and locked eyes with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Eddie was the first man he ever kissed, ever slept with. He couldn’t help himself, not when Eddie flirted with him, wooed him, and made him laugh with his whole body. Steve always assumed what they had was strictly physical, just some fun between two single guys.
But Eddie wanted more than that. He wanted a relationship with Steve.
Eddie had asked Steve to be his date on the red carpet in LA for the Grammy Awards. Eddie was actually nominated with his band, Corroded Coffin, and he wanted to show the world who he loved. But Steve was scared. Everybody would know he was in a relationship with another man. So he declined, and Eddie left Steve’s apartment heartbroken.
Steve can still see the look on Eddie’s face, the hurt in his eyes. It had shattered something inside him, but his fear was stronger. He had watched Eddie walk away, the love of his life slipping through his fingers because he was too afraid to hold on.
Steve’s thoughts are interrupted by the plane's PA system crackling to life, announcing their imminent takeoff. He leans back in his seat, staring out the window as the plane begins to taxi down the runway. The memory of Eddie's face, the pain in his eyes, is as vivid as ever.
He had tried to justify his fear, telling himself it was about protecting Eddie, about not wanting to put him through the scrutiny and judgment that would come from being seen with another man. But deep down, Steve knew it was about protecting himself. He was scared of what his parents would think, what the world would think.
As the plane ascends, Steve closes his eyes, replaying that last conversation with Eddie in his mind.
"Steve, I love you. I want us to be together, really together," Eddie had said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want you by my side at the Grammys. I want to show the world who I love."
Steve had felt his heart pound in his chest, a mix of fear and longing. "Eddie, I can't. You know how my parents are, how everyone will react. It's not that simple."
Eddie's eyes had filled with tears. "It is that simple, Steve. Either you love me enough to be with me, openly and proudly, or you don’t. I can’t keep hiding us. I can't keep hiding you."
Steve had stood there, silent and conflicted, as Eddie walked out the door. The sound of the door closing behind him had felt like the end of everything.
The plane levels off, and Steve opens his eyes, blinking back tears. He knows this trip to LA is a long shot, but he has to try. He has to make Eddie understand how much he means to him.
Steve takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone, opening the notes app. He starts typing, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Eddie.
The flight attendants come by with the beverage cart, and Steve looks up to see Elizabeth smiling at him. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Harrington?”
“Just some water, please,” Steve says, returning her smile.
As she hands him the bottle of water, she says softly, “It looks like you have a lot on your mind, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Steve looks up at her as he accepts the cup of water and finds that he actually wants to talk with someone about what he’s about to do. He needs someone to tell him that it’s going to work out.
“I do. I’m on my way to win back the man I’m in love with.”
There, he said it. He admitted that he was in love with another man and now he’s fighting the urge to hide, scared of her reaction. But he holds her gaze, heart pounding in his chest.
“Oh,” she says, her eyes softening, “that explains the look on your face. I think you’re very brave, Mr. Harrington.”
Steve takes a moment, contemplating how much to share. But he feels a strange sense of comfort in Elizabeth’s kind eyes.
“His name is Eddie,” Steve begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s kind, talented, and makes me laugh like no one else can. But I let my fear ruin everything between us.”
Elizabeth listens intently, her expression encouraging him to continue.
“We fought because he wanted us to go public, to be together openly. He wanted me to go with him to the Grammys, to be his date. But I was too scared of what my parents would think, what people would say. So, I said no. And he left,” Steve explains, his voice cracking.
Elizabeth nods, understanding in her eyes. “That sounds really hard, Steve. But it also sounds like you care a lot about him.”
“I do,” Steve says, his eyes filling with tears. “I love him more than anything. That’s why I’m going to LA. I need to tell him how sorry I am and that I’m ready to be with him, no matter what anyone else thinks.”
Elizabeth places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It takes a lot of courage to admit when you’re wrong and to fight for what you love. Eddie is a very lucky man to be loved so much by you, Steve. I hope he sees that.”
Steve smiles, feeling a bit lighter. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I really hope he does.”
Elizabeth gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving on to the next passenger. Steve watches her go, feeling a much needed sense of hope. He’s made mistakes, let fear dictate his actions, but he’s ready to make things right.
About two hours into the flight, Steve decides to stretch his legs and walks up and down the narrow aisle. He passes families with little kids, an elderly couple working on a crossword puzzle together, and two young women chatting and laughing. It’s fascinating to see so many different lives intersecting in one place.
On his fifth lap, Elizabeth appears next to him, gently touching his arm.
“Steve, could you please take your seat and fasten your seatbelt?”
He looks at her, puzzled. “But the seatbelt signs are still off.”
“That’s true, but from experience, I know the signs could come on any minute. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before the aisle gets too crowded with everyone returning to their seats.”
Steve nods, appreciating the heads-up. “Thanks for letting me know.” He heads back to his seat.
As Steve settles in and fastens his seatbelt, the plane suddenly lurches violently. The cabin shakes with a gut-wrenching turbulence, hurling passengers and their belongings through the air. Panic erupts as screams fill the cabin, and Steve clings to his seat, trying to stay calm amid the chaos.
Elizabeth dashes down the aisle, her face pale and eyes wide. She spots Steve and rushes over, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “Steve! Call Eddie! Now!”
Heart pounding, Steve scrambles for his phone. His hands tremble uncontrollably as he dials Eddie’s number. The turbulence makes it nearly impossible to hold the phone steady, but he manages to keep a grip.
The call connects, and Eddie’s voice comes through, thick with confusion and worry. “Steve?” He asks and then he must hear the chaos in the background because he immediately adds, “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”
“Eddie,” Steve’s voice cracks as he fights back tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have been braver. I should have been all in. I’m on this plane, and it’s really bad. I wanted to come to LA to talk to you. I wish I could have done all this in person. I wish I could kiss you one last time.”
Eddie’s voice trembles with desperation. “Steve, what’s happening? Why does this sound like a goodbye?”
Steve’s eyes dart around the cabin, the plane shaking violently as alarms blare and panicked voices rise. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want this to be a goodbye, but I think it might be. I needed to tell you how much I regret being so scared, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I love you, Eddie. I should’ve told you when I had the chance.”
The turbulence worsens, and the plane begins a terrifying descent. The noise in the background grows louder and more intense. Eddie’s voice, filled with panic, tries to reach him. “Steve, stay with me! Please!”
But as the plane’s descent becomes more violent, the call goes eerily silent. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as the only sound now is the relentless, chilling dial tone. Tears stream down his face as he grips the phone tightly.
Elizabeth returns to Steve’s side, her eyes filled with kindness and urgency. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hold on, Steve. It’s going to be okay, but I need you to fight. For Eddie, okay?”
Steve nods, trying to steady himself amidst the chaos. He closes his eyes, focusing on Eddie’s voice and the love they shared, holding onto the hope that somehow, somehow, he’ll get another chance.
The last thing he hears is the deafening roar of something massive hitting the ground way too fast.
When Steve opens his eyes, he’s immediately overwhelmed by blinding light and searing pain. He groans, wishing for unconsciousness to take him away again so the agony would stop.
“Steve?”
The sound of Eddie’s voice pulls him from the sweet embrace of nothingness. The panic in Eddie’s voice is palpable, as if he’s on the verge of breaking down.
“’ddie?” Steve mumbles, his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton and his tongue heavy.
“Yes, I’m here, Stevie. I’m here.” Suddenly, Eddie’s beloved face appears above him, his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Hi, baby.”
Steve manages a smile, the pain momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Eddie’s face. How he’s missed those eyes.
The thought brings Elizabeth back to his mind, the stewardess with the same eyes. Reality crashes back, and Steve gasps with the sudden realization that he should be dead.
“What… happened?” he croaks, his voice barely audible as his strength begins to wane.
“I promise I’ll explain everything, Stevie, but first we need to get your strength back. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.” Eddie reaches for the call button next to Steve but stops to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was terrified of losing you.”
That’s the last thing Steve hears before darkness pulls him under once more.
The next time Steve wakes up, he feels a bit better. The pain is still there, but it’s dulled by the medication, making it manageable. He’s strong enough to talk more than just a few minutes, and he uses that strength to repeat to Eddie what he had said on the phone during the crash.
Eddie is holding Steve’s hand between his, his tear-streaked cheek resting gently on the back of Steve’s hand. His eyes are still red and puffy, but he speaks with a steady voice that is thick with emotion. “Steve, I could never just walk away from you. I knew you weren’t ready, even though it hurt. I planned to talk to you when I got back to Chicago, to tell you that I would wait for you, as long as I wouldn’t lose you. But when you called and I heard all that screaming… Fuck! I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw up. The crash was bad—most of the front was completely destroyed. It’s a miracle you survived.”
Steve blinks, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. “How… How did I survive?”
Eddie’s gaze is intense as he searches Steve’s eyes. “From what they told me, you were supposed to be seated in the front, but you weren’t. No one could explain why. Your seat was right next to the emergency exit, so they got you out quickly. And you had your seatbelt fastened, which probably kept you from being thrown around too much. It’s almost like fate that you survived. Only twenty-three people made it.”
Steve’s eyes widen as he absorbs Eddie’s words. The thought weighs heavily on his chest: If it hadn’t been for Elizabeth’s warning, he might not have been so lucky. He’s sure she’s the reason he’s still here.
A flicker of concern crosses Steve’s face. “Elizabeth… she was a stewardess on the flight. She moved me to this seat, told me that first class was overbooked and asked if I’d be willing to switch. And she also made sure I fastened my seatbelt just before we started going down.”
Eddie’s eyes grow wide with shock. “But… they said on the news that casualties were below a hundred because first class wasn’t as full as usual. They said no one in that section survived.”
Steve’s heart pounds as he starts to realize the gravity of Elizabeth’s actions. “I need to find out if she survived, Eddie. She saved my life, and I need to thank her.”
Eddie’s eyes brighten with resolve. “We can do that, Stevie. I need to thank this woman, who saved the man I love. What’s her name? I’ll get Chrissy on it—she’ll find out in no time.”
Feeling his love for Eddie surge, Steve lets it overflow for the first time without restraint. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
They share a long, tender look, like lovesick teenagers, before Steve remembers Eddie’s question. “Her name is Elizabeth Quinn.”
Eddie’s expression changes abruptly. All color drains from his face.
“What did you say her name is?”
“Elizabeth Quinn. Why, do you know her?”
Ignoring the question, Eddie asks, “What did she look like?”
Steve describes Elizabeth, including her big brown eyes that reminded him of Eddie’s—one reason he bonded with her almost instantly.
As Steve finishes, Eddie looks even paler. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone, navigates to an article from the airline, and hands it to Steve. The headline reads: “Airline Grieves Loss of Crew Members on Flight 731.” The article features a picture of a stewardess who looks just like Elizabeth. Her name is listed below the photo: Elizabeth Quinn.
Steve’s heart sinks as he reads the name. “That’s her. Elizabeth Quinn.”
Eddie’s voice trembles as he looks at Steve. “Elizabeth Quinn was my mom. She was a stewardess, and she died in a plane crash when I was eight.”
Steve’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I had no idea.”
Eddie’s eyes are glassy as he looks at Steve. “She was the best person I knew. She loved her job and loved helping people. And now it seems she came back to help two more people: me and you.”
Steve reaches out weakly, placing a hand on Eddie’s. “I wish I could have thanked her in person. But I did tell her about you—how funny, smart, and amazing you are. How much I love you. And I should have known, because you look just like her. The same kind eyes and dimples when you smile.”
Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand, his voice breaking. “I’m glad you got to meet her. God, this is so crazy. I was so angry for so long that she left me. I know it’s unfair, but that’s how I felt. I miss her so much.”
“She knew you loved her. She made sure you wouldn’t lose another person you love, because she loves you too. Even if she’s no longer here, she’s still watching over you.”
“Over us, you mean. I’m pretty sure this means you’re part of the family now.”
Eddie still asks Chrissy to check the airline's list for Steve’s savior. He’s not surprised when Chrissy reports that there was no Elizabeth Quinn on that flight.
#steddie#steddie fanfic#steddie angst#steddieangstyaugust#steve harrington x eddie munson#my writing
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Play wrestling with your gf Robin Buckley, but Steve walks in and practically shrieks because he thinks you two are doing something wildly different
In Steve's defense, you are biting Robin's thigh. But you're biting her thigh to overpower her, which- doesn't sound much better. But you're wrestling - really wrestling, not wrestling.
You've got her pinned to the wall, and you'd dropped to your knees to gnaw at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The pinch from your teeth is meant to make her knees give out, and once she's on the floor you'll grab her wrists and pin them to her back. Then you'll declare yourself the winner before she can escape. It's meant to be a foolproof plan, but- well, Steve Harrington has been called a fool before. Perhaps no plan is foolproof enough for him.
He's accustomed to walking into Robin's room like it's his own, but this time you're sure he wishes he'd knocked. He finds you kneeling between Robin's legs, face buried in her thigh a little too close to what's between them for Steve's comfort.
He screams. He screams, and slaps a hand over his eyes, and stumbles backwards all at once, which means he goes tumbling back down Robin's staircase. Her bedroom is right at the top of it, and the hallway is evidently not wide enough for Steve to stop in before he falls right back down the way that he came.
You both dart to the staircase and watch as he lands at the base with a sickening thud, and a groan that you've come to associate with visits to the emergency room.
"Steve?" Robin calls, feet pounding against the stairs as she races to his side. She prods at his temple, and when he grumbles something incoherent in response, she lifts his head off of the floor. She cradles it in her hands, checking for his pulse, "Steve, can you hear me?"
"Yes, dipshit, stop poking me," He swats her hand away when he regains the wind that was knocked out of him, and he sits up while glaring at you where you stand at the top of the staircase.
"That was fucking disgusting." He accuses. You're fairly certain you have the right to do whatever you want with your girlfriend in her own home, but you'd just caused Steve possible brain damage, so you don't point that out.
"We were play-fighting," Robin huffs, rubbing the back of her hand where Steve had smacked her, "You're the one who didn't knock."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I've been your best friend for two years," Steve gripes, struggling to his feet and rubbing at the back of his head where you presume it hit a step, "I didn't know I had to alert the presses to my arrival. Listen- you two," He turns his glare back to you, "I'm- happy for you, okay? But don't- don't ever do that shit again. Close the door, put a sock on it, put up a sign, I don't care, just- never again."
Steve chooses to ignore your rather snippy 'Yes, sir,' in favor of exaggerating a wince as he prods at a sensitive spot near the base of his neck. "Un-fucking-believable," He scoffs, "Another concussion, and this one didn't even come from an interdimensional monster.
#robin buckley#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley imagine#robin buckley scenario#robin buckley oneshot#robin buckley one-shot#robin buckley one shot#robin buckley headcanons#robin buckley headcanon#robin buckley hc#robin buckley hcs#robin buckley fanfiction#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley fic#robin buckley blurb#robin buckley drabble#robin buckley dialogue#robin buckley fluff#robin buckley x reader fanfiction
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But I Have You...
Just a treat for all the angst I've been posting lately! Thank you @daycourtofficial for such a cute idea!
Summary: Date night with Azriel. What could go wrong? Apparently everything...
Warnings: Making out, mentions of food/cooking, allusions to smut, modern-ish AU
Wc: 3.3k
Date night with Azriel was one of your favorite days of the entire week. Calling it date “night” was an understatement. You and Azriel were normally both so busy with your duties that you tried to make a whole day out of it, or as close as it could be.
“Go bathe.” You pointed towards the door of the bathroom, brush still in your outstretched hand.
“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He quirked an eyebrow at you, stalking closer to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest.
“Yes. Now go. We’re going to be late for dinner.” You squeal when he begins to tickle your side, holding you against him as you try to squirm out of his hold.
“I yield. Please…Az” You manage to get out between your fit of laughter. He plants a wet kiss on your cheek before turning around and dramatically stomps to the bathroom, making a show of the small action. You laugh as he rolls his eyes as he closes the door, a large smile plastered to his face letting you know he wasn’t really mad or annoyed with you.
Taking the opportunity to finally get dressed, you all but run to the closet. Edgar to pull out the new dress that you had picked out with MOr last week. It was the exact color of his siphons. You greedily ran your hand over the velvet fabric, already loving the way it felt under your hands. The fabric being one of the very few that didn’t irritate Azriel’s hands over a prolonged time.
You quickly pull your lounge clothes over your head, kicking them off into some random corner of the room to deal with later. The bag holding the dress is discarded in a similar fashion after being torn open. It was just as beautiful as you remember it being and you can’t wait to get it on your body. Even more excited to see Azriel’s reaction.
.You are practically skipping over to your underwear drawer, picking out a small lacy set that you bought to go with the dress. It slides over your skin like butter, clinging to your body like a second skin. It stops about mid-thigh. Just short enough to be sexy but not too short that you were scared to bend over, which you would definitely be doing if for nothing more than giving the shadowsinger a peak of what exactly was waiting for him underneath the dress.
Pulling the straps over your shoulders, you only need to zip the dress up. YOu managed to tug it up halfway before the zipper got stuck on the seam at your waist. A couple more tugs and the stupid thing still won’t budge. You know you could just ask Azriel. He would never object to zipping you up but you knew there would be no way you would make it to your reservation if you did so. So you tugged once more, twice more, and then. Riiiipppp. Your jaw goes slack as the zipper finally tugs the rest of the way up, taking the other half of the zipper with it. The thin fabric stuck under the teeth and tore a large hole in the brand-new dress.
“Fuck!” You shout out once you survey the damage in the mirror. You would not have time to fix this before your reservations.
“Darling, what’s-” You hear your mate's voice filter into the room before he cuts himself off. You turn to face him and he’s gawking at you, towel slung low around his hips.
“It ripped. I just got this dress.” You whine. A chuckle leaves him and the sound has you pouting. “I just got this. It was going to be perfect for tonight.”
“You know that you could always…not wear anything.” His eyes are still trailing up and down your figure.
“Az! I’m serious.” You softly shout at him
“So am I.” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. You blush at his words. “Can we just skip dinner?”
“No sir. It took us months to get this reservation.”
“Rhys could get us in with a snap of his fingers.”
“But I want to go tonight. I already looked at the menu and picked out what I wanted.”
“Of course you did, lovely.” You stuck your tongue out at him, making him throw his head back in laughter. “Just go pick any of the other hundred dresses you have.” He teases and it’s your turn to stomp out of the room. Rolling your eyes at him, a smile so wide it makes your cheeks hurt. Your finger runs over dress after dress and none of them seem to be right. Already having your mind set on the perfect dress, it’s hard to find one to replace it. Your hands finally brush over one that you had forgotten about. A lighter shade than your previous dress, but it would do.
You pull it off the hanger with more force than necessary and peel the other one off, throwing it across the room with a huff. You pad over to Azriel when you have it pulled onto your shoulders, not willing to risk another zipper fiasco. You don’t even have to ask him before he takes the delicate zipper in his hands and pulls it up smoothly in one motion. He presses a kiss to the dip between your shoulder blades as he slides the zipper up into place. You notice his eyes dipping down in the mirror. You’re about to tease him for his wandering gaze when he clears his throat.
“I think there might be…I don’t even know what that is. Wine?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” YOu shout, turning around trying to see your backside in the mirror and sure enough. There is a random stain right at the small of your back. And then you remember. You wore this dress the last time you went to Rita’s with Mor and you had bumped into someone, someone that was holding a nearly full drink that splashed onto your back.
“Whatever. What-fucking-ever. We’re going to be late and this was the only dress I liked.” YOu take a deep breath through your nose. “Just stand behind me so no one sees it.” He nods before his eyes drift lower once again, this time pausing when you know he isn’t looking at the stain anymore.
“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” He grumbled to himself which has you spinning around to wrap your arms around his waist.
“What would I ever do without you, Azzy.”
“Walk around with a stain on your butt.”
“Prick. I was trying to be cute.” You feign insult. He only leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips.
“Let's go then.” He gives your ass a soft slap for emphasis. You scramble to grab your purse from the edge of the bed and catch up with him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The walk to the restaurant wasn’t bad at all. It was only a few blocks away from the apartment the two of you shared. A pleasant walk with even sidewalks that made it easy for your heeled feet to walk.
The dull noise of the restaurant filled your ears the moment the door closed behind you. The decoration was very modern but still seemed very homey. Like it had been pulled directly from a cooking show set. Blue and white gingham tablecloths mixed with gold brushed metals. It was one of the newest, and if the wait you had for the reservation was any sign, most popular restaurants in the area. The hostess asks for your name and you give it to her. She scrolls through the tablet in front of her, eyebrows furrowing slightly. She turns to a large book by her side and flips to a page, finger scanning down the lines of names.
“Would it be under a different name?” She looks up and asks you.
“It could be under Azriel.” You were one hundred percent you had made the reservation under your name but found yourself giving his name either way. The line in her eyebrow deepens and your heart sinks as she turns back to you.
“It looks like we don;t have anything under that name. And we’re fully booked tonight so we aren’t talking walk-ins.”
“No, I called last month. I know I made a reservation. It wouldn’t be anywhere else?” You keep your voice low, not wanting to let your disappointment make you yell at the poor girl at the host stand.
“I’m sorry, it’s not in our system and like I said, we’re completely full tonight. Do you want me to make you a reservation for another night?” You shook your head. Too distraught to think about another night.
“It’s fine. Thank you.” Azriel said, noticing the way tears were starting to swim in your eyes. He took your hand lightly and pulled you out of the restaurant. He wrapped his arms around you and you buried your head into his chest.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s silly to be getting upset over this but I’m just really…I don’t even know.”
“You’re allowed to be disappointed baby. You’ve been talking all week about this.” He pulled your face up with one of his fingers. “How about we go to that pizza place you really like?” You perked up a little at the thought making Azriel smile at your mood change. “There she is.” He kissed your cheek. “Lets go.” He started walking you in the direction of the small pizza shop. As upset as you might be, you did love this spot. One of the few places that didn’t make their sauce too acidic or too sweet. Perfect crust to pizza ratio. It was always your fall back place and it was a great suggestion from your boyfriend.
You walked the few blocks to the shop and stood outside the door. One look at the sign made your heart sink all over again. Closed for repairs. Azriel gave your hand a squeeze.
“Azzzzzz.” You whined, fighting the urge to stomp your foot like a toddler.
“It’s okay baby. We can do something else.” He pulled you into his arms again, once again calming you down.
“Can we make pizza at home?”
“Of course we can.” He smiled down at you. Then you remembered.
“Shit. Elain used the rest of our flour for some cookies last week.”
“Then we’ll go to the store.”
“Az we can’t go to the store dressed like this.” You gestured to your dress and his crisp black dress shirt and matching pants.
“Why not?”
“Because we’ll look crazy.”
“Do you want pizza?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to go to the store. Come on.” He started pulling you in the direction of a small corner store at the other end of the square.
You felt so silly, small shopping basket in hand, you in your tight dress and heels and Azriel in his dress clothes. But luckily, no one paid you any attention. Too focused on their own shopping to even notice you. Picking up the bag of flour, you also grabbed some cheese, and some fresh basil to put on top. Azriel led you over to the check out but not before grabbing a bottle of wine as you passed by the section. The cashier rang you out quickly and smiled at the two of you as you walked out of the store. Not once commenting or even raising an eyebrow at your attire, much to your pleasure.
Your feet were screaming at you by the time you got to the door of your apartment. Not expecting to walk as much as you did. Azriel, seeing the discomfort in your face, leaned down to undo the straps off your heels. He gave a small tap to your ankle to let you know that you could step out of them before he repeated the motion to your other foot. A sigh left your lips as your feet touched the ground, screaming in relief. Azriel gave you a small kiss on your knee before standing back up.
“Thank you.” You told him as he grabbed the bag from your arms and walked into the kitchen.
“I should change if we’re going to be making dough.” You said as you followed him into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Or you could keep it on and let me peel you out of it later?” He suggested, furthering his words by kissing along your jaw. You fought the urge to melt against his hold.
“You’ve convinced me. I’ll keep it on.”
“Good girl.” He spoke before giving your ass a light slap as he released you. You heated up from head to toe at his words. You shook your head as he started to unpack the groceries, trying to clear your head of the less than innocent thoughts rushing through you. So you started to pull out the other necessary ingredients and placed them on the counter next to Azriel. He opened the flour and started to pour it into the bowl you pulled out from the cabinet. He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead as he takes the olive oil from your hands and starts working on the dough. It was soe recipe he knew that made quick, non-proofing, dough. Something he learned from Rhys’ mother he had told you one time. In no time the dough was made and he started rolling it out. You peeked over his shoulder and had to bite back a laugh when you saw the speckling of flour on his cheek. He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You’ve got something…” You reached out your hand to swipe the streak away. “Right there.” You giggled at his annoyed expression.
“You mean right,” He dipped his hand into some of the flour that had spilled onto the counter and flicked it towards your hair. “There?” You squealed as you realized what he was doing, moving just too late to avoid the flour from getting into your hair.
“Az!” You said in between your laughing. “You got my hair dirty.” You gave him a dramatic pout, looking up at him which in turn made him start laughing.
“Oh no, guess I’ll just have to wash it out later.” He nudged you with his shoulder which only made you roll your eyes, a smile plastered onto your face.
“I guess….”
“What do you want on your pizza?” He quickly changed the topic.
“Just cheese please.” You smiled up at him and he nodded. He quickly spread some of the jarred sauce on with the back of a spoon and sprinkled on a handful, or three, of the shredded cheese you bought at the store. You smiled at the heap of cheese on your pizza, just the way you liked it. None of the sauce was visible under the coating and he smiled at you as you helped him slide in onto the pan. He quickly did the same to his own, adding a few slices of the tomato and a handful of basil on top.
With the pizza’s in the oven it would only be a few minutes until they were ready, just enough to let the cheese melt.
Azriel leaned against the counter, already holding two wine glasses in his hand. YOu walked over and grabbed them from his hand, placing a quick kiss to his lips and putting them down on the counter. He leaned down and grabbed your face between his hands, pulling your lips back to his. You let yourself sink into the kiss. The first real kiss you two shared all night. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip and you whined against him. He chuckled deeply, the sound reverberating through you and heating your blood instantly. You whined again and you felt Azriel backing you up into the counter across the kitchen. His hands snaked down to your waist and tapped, silently asking you to jump onto the countertop. You obliged and he helped hoist you up so your lips didn't leave his. Your hands snaked into his dark locks, pulling his face even closer to yours. His hands started wandering down your hips, grabbing at the fat of your hips, pulling you somehow closer to him. Your mouth parted in a moan at the tight grip and you used that as an opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You bit down lightly, pulling away from the kiss. Both of your were panting but he just trailed kisses down your neck, down to the neckline of your dress. He had just snuck a hand up to pull down the fabric when you noticed a burning smell in the air. Shit. You pushed him away, already hoping off the counter. He looked at you, confused at your sudden shift. Then his eyes widened as he remembered the pizza you had both seemingly forgotten about. You quickly grabbed one of the over mitts sitting on the counter and pulled the pizza’s out. If you could even call the nearly black circles on the pan you were pathetically holding out in front of you.
You really couldn’t find it in yourself to be disappointed. Not when you could still feel Azriel’s lips ghosting along your skin. You pushed the contents of the pan into the garbage can and looked up at Azriel. Both of you immediately bursted out laughing. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“I’m sorry baby.”
“I’m not.” You winked at him.
“Well what are we going to do for dinner now.”
“There's ice cream in the freezer?” You shrugged. Suddenly not in the mood for cooking at all. You bit your lip as you looked at him and he laughed in response.
“Okay. Ice cream for dinner it is.”
So the two of you, still in your clothes from the failed dinner reservations, curled up on the couch. Each holding a pint of ice cream and the now full wine glasses on the table in front of you. Azriel had thrown a blanket over the two of you and put on some cheesy movie that neither of you were paying attention to.
“I’m sorry tonight was such a disaster” You said to him, mouth still half full of ice cream. He shook his head, leaning his face closer to yours until your foreheads were touching.
“I got to be with you, what more can I ask for?”
The two of you nearly finished the bottle of wine, Azriel had already placed the nearly empty ice cream containers back into the freezer. When he returned to the couch he pulled you against his chest, hand swirling random patterns onto your back. You felt your eyes getting very heavy as you tried your best to focus on the movie in front of you but the wine was lulling you to sleep. It felt like your eyes had closed for only a second before Azriel was shaking you awake.
“Hi sleepyhead.” He mumbled into your hair.
“I was not asleep for that long.”
“Long enough to drool on me.” You quickly shot up, hand going to wipe away any wetness that might have split from your mouth. Your hand was dry. You stuck your tongue out at him as he gave you a wicked smile. He pulled you back down to his chest, twisting you so you were now straddling him.
“I think I can find a perfect way to wake you darling.” And that was all you needed to hear before you pressed your lips against his. Very much awake.
#acotar#acosf#acomaf#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#acowar#azriel acotar#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x you#azriel fluff
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⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS
pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader
synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.
warnings ▪︎ general, blood, broken bones, some description of injuries
MASTERLIST | NEXT
CHAPTER ONE ▪︎ SET UP FOR FAILURE (7.2k)
"What do you do when a nearby Quarantine Zone has gone radio silent?"
The squad leader paces the front of the classroom, watching hands fly up. This year, there are fewer cadets than ever, the population dwindling constantly. They're eager, hungry for field action, wanting to see the hypothetical scenarios themselves. Sure, the simulations were exciting, and the history of the world prior to the apocalypse was interesting enough. Still, even you, one of the few who genuinely liked these classes, were getting sick of sitting back and hearing about missions instead of being able to see it all firsthand.
"Send out a squad?" You answer when your hand is picked, shrugging.
"No." You wince at your squad leader's strict voice, but it relaxes. "Not a squad, just a few troops to scout the area and survey the damage. So, not entirely wrong, but not entirely correct either." He leans back on the chipped blackboard, hands behind his back. "This is stuff you'll need to get down if you want to move up in the ranks, all of you. I'm not singling you out Y/n- ehem, Cadet L/n."
A few people in the back giggle at the slip-up, knowing your more personal relationship with the soldier standing before you. He hides a smirk behind a well-trained stoic face, your own painted with a furious blush of red. Like the professional he is, the lesson continues without much of a pause, only briefly calling out the laughter to remind everyone who's in charge here.
After being drilled with so much information it could cause a migraine, you're finally able to leave. The next parts of your day include physical training and weaponry practice, then dinner, and bed at 10:30PM sharp. No time for chitchat, no time for leisure outside of the confines of your small room. Not that you've earned your own room yet, so at least you have your roommates to entertain you.
You hang back, having a few minutes to spare before heading off to throw punches or do push-ups or whatever they'll have you doing next. Just enough time to give Minho an equally needed break.
"Squad Leader Lee?" You approach his desk once everyone is gone with a flirty tone in your voice. "Why, that lesson was... I have no words, truly. The way your voice projects over such a large room, so deep and velvety, really. And don't even get me started on how good you look in that uniform-"
"Cadet L/n, that's enough," he says in a strict enough tone you almost take him seriously.
"My bad, my bad. So, what is it?" You ask, grinning. "No dessert or bathroom duties?"
"How about both?" His face finally betrays him, the corners of his mouth upturned.
"Now there's that cruel soldier everyone believes you to be!" You cry, dramatically holding a hand over your heart. "How could you! You know how much I love the mushy crumble and how much I hate cleaning those disgusting public toilets. Just cause humanity has fallen doesn't mean you can't still be decent, people!"
You both laugh a bit too loudly, and you're about to continue your acting until a harsh knock on the open door interrupts you. Swiveling around, you're met with the hard stare of your Captain.
"Cadet. Squad Leader," He greets, clearing his throat and eyeing you. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Y-yes," You flinch. "Yes, sir."
"Better head off then," He says, waving you off as he enters the room. "Squad Leader Lee, spare a minute?"
"Of course, sir." Minho stands, voice fading as you rush down the hall.
-
"What is going on with you two?"
Standing over your panting figure is Seungmin, your best friend since coming to the QZ. He offers you a hand, taking it away just as you go to grab it.
"Dick." You push yourself off the ground, sweat dripping down your back. "Nothing, you know this! Why does everyone think something's going on?"
"Duh, because you knew each other before coming here? You have history," Seungmin wiggles his eyebrows, bumping his shoulder against yours. "Another round?"
"What? So you can just kick my ass again?" You huff. "We both know you're a better fighter."
"Only in the physical sense. I'd hate to be on your bad side with a weapon in your hand, sheesh." He hands you your water bottle and a rag, grabbing his own after. "Besides, you were obviously distracted today. Usually, you're much better."
"Complimenting me, are we?"
"Never." He grimaces, taking a seat on the bench.
You follow his lead, sitting back and watching your fellow cadets spar on the mats. Some just use their fists, like you and Seungmin, and some are equipped with small knives. No one is allowed to critically injure someone else, but accidents happen, usually among the more bloodthirsty of your peer group.
"Fuck, he's brutal," you say, pointing to the back where a larger member of the group is throwing down his opponent. "Lucky I got stuck with your skinny ass."
"My skinny a- really? Look," Seungmin smacks your right arm, as you shake with laughter. "Look. Call this skinny?" He flexes his muscles in his left arm, putting your hand over his sleeved arm to prove his point. "I could crush you. I will crush you."
Empty threats, empty promises, but full, full laughter erupting from your throat. It's short-lived, however, as your Captain is now walking toward you through the mats.
"Jesus, this guy and I just keep running into each other today, huh?" You mutter, wiping away excess water from your mouth.
"This guy could use you as zombie bait-" Seungmin abruptly stands and salutes. "Afternoon, Captain."
"Good afternoon, Cadet Kim. As good as it can be these days." He clears his throat as you stand, copying Seungmin's behaviours. "Cadet L/n, we meet again. First, you're taking up Squad Leader Lee's time, and now you're slacking in your physical training."
"She just needed a minute to breathe-"
"I'm talking to Cadet L/n right now," the Captain cuts Seungmin off who's barely hiding his annoyance. He's never liked your Captain. "If you keep up like this, you'll never improve. Just some food for thought."
"Yes, Captain Park."
"Now, get back out there. You still have time for a few rounds before weaponry training." He turns halfway, looking at you over his shoulder. "Change your stance and you'll get knocked down less. Cadet Kim, I trust you can show her?"
"Of course, sir."
"Good." With that, he heads out.
"Why was he even watching us?" You cross your arms, no longer hiding your disgust. "Doesn't he have better things to do?"
"Apparently not." Seungmin steps back onto the nearest mat where you like to train, easy to step off for breaks both necessary and unnecessary. "Let's get back at it, I guess. I don't want to get stuck on dish duty."
-
After all training for the day concludes, you head to the cafeteria, planning to grab a sandwich and head back to your room early. As usual, the area is full of hungry soldiers, making it hard to be quick. You tend to avoid eating here and getting stuck in meaningless conversations with people you likely won't see again, never sticking around long enough to make proper friends. Seungmin was scheduled for dinner a half hour after you, leaving you alone for the first half. The one time you waited to eat with Seungmin and his friends was the most painfully awkward experience of your life, standing against the wall with your tray of food trying desperately to not get knocked over by the sea of bodies.
Nothing against Seungmin and his friends, but you didn't know them that well either. You briefly met Ryujin that day, but she was similar to you. She spared enough time to talk and eat, but once she was done, she was done. Gone to her room early for God knows what.
For a while there was Jeongin, but he was mistakenly sent on a mission; something that was supposed to be a fake scenario turned out to be very much real. No one's seen him since. They didn't find a body, so you have to assume he turned. You've never asked Seungmin what he thinks happened knowing it's a touchy subject, changing the topic whenever someone else brings it up.
Today is different, something in the air makes you want to hang around. There's a feeling of secrecy, whispers of rumours thick in the air. Getting as close as you can to the people next to you in line without it being weird, you try to eavesdrop. They're also cadets, but from a different squad; you don't recognize them.
"No way, they would tell us that, wouldn't they?" The taller one says, further away from you.
"You really think so?" The one closer to you scoffs. "The higher-ups don't tell us shit about anything that goes on beyond these walls."
"Okay, but isn't missing a whole QZ kind of, I don't know, important?"
You grab a spoonful of bland potatoes.
"Obviously it is!" The shorter one whispers. "But at our level, I seriously doubt they'll let us know. We won't even be able to do anything anyway since we can't go beyond the walls yet."
"Sometimes they let squads out of training early." The taller one scoops some beans. "Maybe-"
"Shh, Captain Park is right there." He hands you the spoon, unaware of your part in the conversation.
So that must be why Minho had to discuss abandoned QZ's and the procedures today. You knew it wasn't the originally planned lesson, hearing Minho complain all about it the day before after class. Maybe he knows something. Maybe he's just as in the dark as the rest of you, only being told of a sudden lesson change and that's it. Could he be hiding something from you? That talk with the Captain...
"Hey, keep the line moving!" Someone shouts, unfreezing you.
You dash out of the cafeteria, leaving your food behind. It's okay, it was barely edible anyway.
If Minho knows something, you'll find out. He can't keep secrets from you and you know it, using the fact to get ahead of the rest of your class even though you already knew it all. But this? Something to this extent?
"Minho!" You swing the door open only to be met with not just Minho, but Squad Leader Seo as well. "Oh, um, evening squad leaders. I just, um, came to..." You spot an assignment paper on Minho's desk, snatching one up. "...grab a new copy of this! Once you're available, could we go over question nine? I got a bit confused."
"Question nine..." Squad Leader Seo leans over to look at the papers. "'What to do if a zombie bites your fellow soldier'? Sounds pretty straightforward to me."
You bite your lip, cursing yourself for not looking at the questions first.
"Of course, Squad Leader," you address her, putting on your acting face. "The thing is, the question's a bit broad, no?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Well, you see, where was this soldier bit? Obviously, there's no hope if it's the neck. Goner, shoot in the head. But what if it's the forearm? Or the calf? Are you not able to amputate the limb before infection spreads?"
Squad Leader Seo just shakes her head. "She's all yours, Lee."
You stand back triumphant. If there's one thing you're good at, it's annoying or confusing people to your advantage.
"Wow," Minho gives you a slow clap. "Just... wow. Next time I wanna get someone off my back, I'll give you a call."
"Gotta use my natural talent somewhere," you chuckle, taking a seat in the chair Seo must have pulled over. "Not like actress' still exist."
"Clowns do."
"Screw you!" You ball up the paper, tossing it at him lightly. It bounces off his chest and falls to the floor.
"So why are you here now? Don't you only have-" He checks his watch. "-eleven minutes until your dinner hour is over? Meaning I have eleven until mine starts."
"I had a question."
"Something more important than getting a well balanced meal in?" Minho raises an eyebrow.
"Way more important. And you know those meals are gross, you and your secret spice stash... you still need to tell me where you get those. Anyway!" You take a breath, unsure how to approach the topic without being too blunt. "I've heard people talking-"
"-because they're always so truthful."
"Shut up." You lean in, not wanting to risk any passerby hearing. You really should have shut the door behind you and risked talk about you and Minho. "I overheard some cadets talking about a neighbouring QZ going silent and couldn't help but think that it might have had to do with our lesson today. Do you know anything about this?"
Minho stiffens. "If I knew something, I couldn't tell you, you know that."
"But I'm your exception." You roll your eyes. "We both know that."
"For a lot of things, yes, but this?" He eyes the door. "Even if I wanted to tell you, I can't, and that's final."
"Minho-"
"That's final," His tone is harsh, the only way he knows how to get you to stop pressing further. "Got it, Cadet?"
"Got it," you mumble, pouting.
You really thought you'd be able to get something, anything, a crumb of information from him, but no. He had to put Squad Leader Lee on and Minho away, leaving you with the same info as you walked in with.
An idea was brewing, and Minho could tell.
"What's that face for?" He questions. "You're scheming, aren't you?"
"No," you say, all too quickly. "Course not. Nice chatting with you!"
You stand abruptly, your chair squeaking backward as you dash out of the room to avoid questions. Fellow cadets stare as you bound past them, back to the cafeteria. There were two minutes left in your hour, just enough to pull Seungmin out of his chair and to the side, leading him outside before he can protest or even register what was happening.
Cold air hits your face, skin prickling in the early spring moonlight. Turning him to face you, you let go of Seungmin's arm. There are few people occupying outdoor seats on the patio, still too cool to have a meal enjoyably. This works in your favour, moving to the table furthest from the doors for some privacy.
"Why'd you drag me out here? Can't a man eat in peace?"
"Short answer, no." You drag a hand through your hair, only loose during your free time. "Long answer, we're going to break into Minho's office."
"Should I get Captain Park to drag you to the infirmary? Because you've lost it, genuinely lost it."
"Ugh, I've seen him enough today," you groan. "Listen, Minho obviously knows something about what's going on-"
"What's going on?" Seungmin asks.
"Haven't you heard of the abandoned QZ?"
"Oh, that," he says. "It's just a rumour."
"Or is it?" You smile devilishly. "I asked Minho about it and the way he reacted suggests otherwise, plus my lesson today was all about radio silence. It all adds up!"
"It all adds up because you want it to add up." Seungmin scans the patio, inhaling when more people join you outside. "We shouldn't be talking about this."
"Fine, don't join me." You lean back hard, arms crossed. "I'm gonna do it anyway."
"Well, it was nice knowing you." He leaves you then, and you realize your dinner hour is past over.
Sneaking back to your room will have to do. Good practice for tonight! But your mind wanders as you head back. What if doing this hurts your friendship with Minho? Should you really risk so much over some rumour? Besides, even if it's true, if you get caught you won't be able to go with your squad to check it out anyway.
"Not that they send training squads..." You pout, opening your door.
You're met with hushes, creaks of beds, and giggling.
"Relax, it's just me."
"Oh good, it's about time you showed up." Your roommate, Yeji, sits up with her hair all messed up from trying to act asleep. "I thought you'd be in Captain Park's office again."
"Nope. Almost in Minho's though."
"Fucking finally!" Yeji cocks her head, a wide smile on her face.
"Took you long enough," another voice says.
A head pops up from Yeji's bed, and your other roommate Yuna lies there. You realize it's actually Yuna's bed they're in, having both rushed thinking you were someone else.
"I'm gonna get my stuff and get ready for bed," you say, grabbing a small netted bag with a towel and soap inside. "Don't have too much fun while I'm gone."
Closing the door with a soft click, you head to the communal showers. They're at the end of the corridor, each squad getting their own with their floor. Your squad, number fourteen-three, kept it surprisingly clean and even won an award for housekeeping the year before. This was your last year here, moving on with the rest of the squad to the frontlines next year. That is, if you make it that far.
Privacy was hard to come by, so you sit in the shower stall a little longer after the water's turned off. Wrapped in your towel, you slouch sideways against the wall, closing your eyes for just a minute. At first, you think you're dreaming of the voices you hear, shaking yourself awake. Goosebumps prickle at your skin for the second time that night, either from the cool air coming in from under the shower curtain, or the realization of people joining you.
"No, you can't tell her anything." Oh, you're definitely not supposed to be hearing this. "I don't care how much you trust her. You know how much I want to tell Bin, and I can't. I don't see how this is much different."
Squad Leader Seo sighs, loudly.
"She won't tell anyone," Minho replies.
They're talking about you.
"She'll tell Seungmin, who will tell Ryujin, who will tell Yuna, who will tell Bin. Then what?" Seo hisses. "You need to understand this."
"I hate this." Minho shuffles. "I hate not knowing and not being able to do anything."
"I know you do. I do too," her voice softens. "Last I heard is they're planning to make an official announcement tomorrow. Hopefully, that'll be enough to satisfy her curiosity."
"It better be."
Their voices fade and you wait, you wait until it's completely silent, and then some, ensuring they'll be gone by the time you step out.
-
Soldiers shuffle around to find empty seats, sitting with their squads. In the row in front of you sits Minho, next to him Squad Leader Seo, with a gap large enough for one person to walk through between their seats to separate their squads, fourteen-three and fourteen-four. The other two squads in your section are seated in the rows ahead of you, not much further away. Your squad only consists of ten people, two rows of five each. Yeji and Yuna sit to your right, Seungmin to your left.
"Attention!" Captain Park clears his throat from the stage; you think this used to be a school's auditorium. "Please, give me your attention!"
Everyone falls silent.
"Thank you. Now," He points at a white sheet behind him, an image of a map projected onto it. "We are here." He points to a small red dot at the bottom of the map. "Our closest neighbouring QZ's are here," he points at a green dot, "and here." He points at a blue dot. They look close enough, but you know from studying the maps they're a lot further than they seem.
"For a long time, we've established trade routes to help sustain us, sent trained soldiers and healers to each other when needed," he begins his speech. "This system has worked for thirty years." Captain Park takes a few steps on the stage. "Now, one of them has gone radio silent. We haven't heard back from them nor our messengers who've been sent out to find out what's happened."
A few people gasp, whispers arising. Panic fills the air, heads turning and some even standing up.
"Sit back down!" Captain Park barks. "There's no need to panic, really. All but one of our messengers have gone and not come back. It turns out they've been... overrun, slightly, forced to the middle of their zone where the infected beings have trapped them.
"Most of the infected have wandered back out, running out of resources." You cringe; he means people. "So we're using this as a training opportunity. Thanks to some of our best squad leadership yet, we're sending out squads fourteen-three and thirteen-four. You're about to graduate early!"
Shock runs through your body so intensely your hair could be standing up. So the rumour was true, and you're being sent out.
You're being sent out.
You.
"Shit," you gasp, tears forming in your wide eyes.
"Y/n! Did you hear- hey." Seungmin takes your face in his hands, catching the falling tears with his thumbs. "No crying where people can see you, remember?" You sniff, nodding. "Good. This is good news. We're finally getting a chance to get out of here and experience the real world."
"Right," you say, determination taking over your numb face. "Right! Finally!"
You jump out of your seat, joining the rest of your excited squad mates. This was an opportunity you couldn't pass up, no matter how frightening it is now that it's happening. You're leaving, you're really leaving.
But when you lock eyes with Minho, all you can see devastation.
-
Twelve hours later you were in the backseat of a vehicle heading to the next QZ. Sitting next to you is Seungmin, silently looking out of the window. Most of the surrounding area had turned into dense forest, the dirt road bumpy. Minho was up front driving, one hand on the wheel and the other lounging in the open window, wind coming back and hitting you in the face.
You drifted in and out of sleep on the trip, a restless night keeping you up before. This morning offered barely any time to down some kind of caffeinated drink and a small breakfast, packing some for on the road. It feels like a lifetime has passed since you left, seeing more of the real world than you've seen in a long time.
Most people in your squad had either been born in the QZ or arrived at such a young age that they don't have any memories of outside of it, but you had lived beyond it for the first decade of your life. It wasn't hard to forget since you'd become so accustomed to life inside the walls.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Seungmin's voice brings you back to reality.
"Hmm?" You detach your eyes from the trees, looking over at your friend. "Oh, nothing, really. Just kind of zoning out."
"You better zone back in." Seungmin points between the front seats and you follow his gaze. "We're here."
In front of you stands a large, grey wall with a secured gate and two lookout spots on either side. Barbed wire lines the top of the structure, although you highly doubt zombies can climb. There isn't much difference from your own, just a different number spray painted above the gate. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, minus the missing soldiers.
"How'd the infected even get in?" You ask, thinking out loud.
No one answers, unease settling in. Minho leaves the vehicle first, circling around to grab his gun from the back. Yeji leaves next and you follow, Seungmin and Ryujin out last. On you, you have two small knives strapped to your thigh and a small pistol on your hip. Lastly, you have a slingshot tucked into your back pocket, a small satchel secured across your body to hold ammo.
The five of you walk toward the gate, Minho punching a code into the pin pad on the right. With a groan, the gate starts sliding open. Behind that gate is another for extra security also requiring a code, so Minho continues on, the rest of you getting your weapons out to prepare. You hold one of your knives, opting for something quieter before the chaos ensues. This gate creaks open slightly faster, allowing entrance into the QZ.
"So," Minho slows to a stop a few steps ahead. "That must be how they got in."
To the left is a huge hole in the wall, still smoking from whatever- or whoever- blew it out. Infected figures twitch and drag their feet around by the opening, far enough away they won't see you quite yet. Unlike your own QZ, there's a big parking lot to your left with what you assume are all of this QZ's vehicles, still intact. The explosion might have been big, but not enough to reach every inch of the area. To your right is a short building, probably where patrol squads check in and out, or where newcomers are interviewed. Straight ahead is a homemade gravel road leading into more domestic areas, small houses lining beyond the obvious military buildings out front.
You knew once you reached a certain rank you'd be able to get your own apartment or even a house like these ones, but you've never seen so many. This comes as a shock to you, believing you were one of the largest QZ's in the area, but you guess largest doesn't need to apply to the population within the walls, but the space it takes up.
"Squad Leader Lee." Seo runs up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "How're we doing this?"
He thinks for a minute, staring at the gaping hole.
"Split your squad into two," he starts. "You'll take half to the left with half of mine, leave the rest with Changbin." She gives him a look, clearly against the idea. "We both know he's capable and this is training after all. He'll lead his half and mine to the right side, snaking through buildings to reach the middle ones marked on the map. You and I will head to the right, taking out the infected as we go."
"Should we not all go right? We're here to rescue, not to kill." Squad Leader Seo turns him to face Minho, hand falling from his shoulder. "We shouldn't go into unnecessary danger."
"If all of those infected catch wind of where we are, not only will everyone on the right side then be trapped, but we'll have every single one of them after us. This way we can thin out the hoard." Minho checks his ammo, a way of signifying the end of the argument. "Feel free to do what you think is right, but don't blame me when your squad gets killed."
Squad Leader Seo looks taken aback, unused to Minho in action, hard and strict. Face void of emotion, he motions his squad forward to section off who will go where. Of course, you're chosen for his group, along with Ryujin, Seungmin chosen to lead the others going with Changbin.
"I swear to fucking God if you die-" You adjust the strap holding Seungmins ammo.
"I should be saying that to you," He chuckles. "You die on me and I'll kill you."
"Please do," You say, semi-serious. "I don't wanna be one of them."
"I won't let that happen," Minho says from behind you, gaining both your and Seungmins attention. "Finish your goodbyes and let's go."
"He can be such a dick." Seungmin rolls his eyes. "Comes with age, I guess."
"Shut up," You laugh. "He's not even much older than us."
Seungmin half-smiles, looking down at you. "My squad is gonna leave me if I don't go now. Squad Leader Kim, out."
"Wait." You grab his arm when he moves past you. "Not even a proper goodbye?"
He considers this. "I don't want to say goodbye to you."
"How about see you later?" You offer. "That promises we'll meet again after."
"Promises don't exist in this world," He says, but notices the way your face drops. "I'll... make an exception this time. See you later, bug."
"Squad section one, over here!" Minho waves his arms, signalling you and the others assigned to him over.
"See you later," you say finally.
Your section moves out, staying low between abandoned vehicles and corners of buildings, slowly but surely making your way to the hole. The closer you get, the more infected you see.
They look worse up close, prominent black veins popping out of their necks. Some limp, some stalk, some just stand there unmoving. You're hiding behind the tire of a truck, barely out of sight, and watch as one inches its way over. Its eyes are sunken in, lines deep in the skin, and nails grown out long with dirt and decay stuck underneath the tips. As it starts getting closer to your location, you make eye contact with Minho who sits behind a concrete barrier across from you. He makes a motion downward and you know what he's saying immediately. Crouching low, you slide your body underneath the truck, knife ready. You can see the feet shuffling through the front.
"Stay there," Minho mouths, wielding a knife of his own.
Part of you wants to disobey; it'd be so easy to take it down! But you know better. Moving too early won't just risk you, but your squad too.
It stops at the side, tips of its feet underneath the truck and right by your arm. Sweat beads on your forehead, nerves buzzing beneath your skin. You didn't know how much intelligence these things really had, always learning they lost most of it once turned. Most, not all. What if it somehow senses you and crouches down; or turns around and spots Minho? Would it grab you, claw at your skin until it's raw and bleeding, dragging you out finally to feast?
But it does none of that, simply standing there.
You move slowly to the other side of the truck and survey your surroundings, taking in where you can move to for quick cover. There isn't much, mostly rubble, but you spot a home nearby where a piece of blown-out wall has made a new entrance. You'd have to stay low as there isn't much to hide you on the way, but you couldn't stay here trapped under this vehicle. Making eye contact with Minho, you nod your head toward it. He has an easy route to move there, and so does most of the squad, you're the only one who has to risk anything.
He moves toward the front of the house, opting to use the front door.
"Always has to do it his way," you mutter, dragging your body out from underneath the truck.
What you failed to see is another infected making its way from the back of the truck, a low growl escaping its throat as you go into a low crouch. Slowly, you turn around right as it sprints at you, pouncing and pinning your arms down. Instead of biting you right away, it screams, spit flying onto your face and neck, and you notice the way its skin is peeling away from the corners of its mouth. You fight your own shout, struggling against the strength of its hold.
This is it. It'll go for the killing blow in a second.
I'm sorry Minho, you think as you see other infected alert at the sound of your attack. I'm sorry Seungmin, I'm sorry Squad Leader Seo, I'm sorry Yeji, Ryujin, Changbin-
You fight back tears as the infected on top of you continues to wail and wonder why it hasn't bitten you yet, why it's prolonging this encounter when you could be dead already. The grip on your forearms is bruising, pushing them deeper into the ground.
You hear it before you see it- another explosion as the hoard gathers. All you can do is hope the others got to safety, even if you're going to die here. Your first mission, failed.
A hand comes out of nowhere, piercing the infected in the skull and it drops onto you, rolling to the side. When the grip loosens, you push the dead weight off your body, grabbing the hand now offering help.
"I said I'm not letting you become worm food." Minho runs with you, hand still holding yours. "Everyone, back down! Head to the gates!"
No one hesitates. Another two explosions sound behind you and you don't dare to look back, the second sounding closer than the first. The ground rumbles underneath your feet and you stumble, Minho barely catching you before you hit the ground. Shrieks sound from behind you, terribly human. You finally glance behind.
Ground and body parts fly up in the air and you can see the grenades being thrown from all sides. You catch a glimpse of someone running across the destruction, face half covered in a black cloth and sunglasses obscuring his eyes.
"There's people!" You shout over the noise, forcing Minho to stop as you stare in horror. "We have to help them!"
"Pretty sure they're the ones causing this shit," Minho says, close to your ear. "We need to get out of here while we still can."
You want to protest, but the grenade that lands by your feet suggests you move. The two of you barely make it behind a parked van before it blows, heat blasting over you. Whoever is doing this either has no idea your squad is there, or don't care.
"We just need to get past those buildings." Minho points, and you realize how close you are to the exit.
You're on the gravel road straight to the exit, right by the beginnings of the training buildings, short and matching the patrol station at the front. The next moves are obvious; book it out. Emerging from your left are the other two squads and you can see Seungmin scanning the area until he spots you. Clearly, he wants to run to you, but something is stopping him and you don't have to guess what it is when you hear the now familiar groans and cries.
"Now!" Minho shouts, running out of cover.
A second delayed, you follow. The gravel is uneven and holey, making it hard not to slip. Minho is faster than you as you pant, trying to catch up. At the gates, he stops and turns in your direction, watching in slow motion as a heavy-duty, homemade bomb of sorts lands near you, tumbling to the edge of a building and blowing bits of concrete everywhere, the force knocking you down. A larger piece traps your left leg, pinned against the ground.
"Y/n!" You look up, seeing Seungmin rush to you and Minho frozen to the spot. "Damn it, this is really heavy."
He attempts to lift the chunk off of you and you scream out, face contorting in pain. You can feel the broken bone threatening to rip your skin. Seungmin comes back into sight, gun in hand, frantically shooting above you. Twisting the best you can, you reach for your own gun and find it missing. You must have lost it with all the running and ducking.
Now you can see the infected coming at you in full force.
"Seungmin, go!" You cry out, panting. "Get out of here!"
"What happened to no goodbyes?" He backs up slightly, spotting something you can't see from down here. "Shit."
Seungmin is back by your side, desperate to get the piece of wall off of you. He falls back, an infected clawing at his shoulder. Blood seeps through the beige fabric of his coat and he winces, using his good arm to hit the creature in the neck with his knife. Distracted, you don't notice the infected leaping at your body unit it's too late, eyes now trained on Minho being held back by Squad Leader Seo. You can see her shouting at him as he struggles to get past her, ultimately failing when she gets Changbin to help drag him toward the gates. Reading his lips, you realize he's been shouting your name, and twist back around just in time to see the infected land over you.
"No!" Your body is contorted painfully, not able to fully turn onto your back to fend off the creature due to your leg being trapped. "Get off!"
Sharp nails claw into your hip and pushing it downward, a scream of pain ripping from your throat. Your hip was definitely not supposed to turn that far. The other hand digs into your jaw, a terrifying set of teeth descending on you.
A gunshot sounds and blood pours out of a small hole in its forehead and onto your neck, body falling limp and releasing your own. Your body falls back into the natural position it should be in; back on your stomach. People you don't recognize are helping Seungmin up from under the infected that attacked him, a couple more running behind you. You're too tired to turn around and see what they're doing, barely registering the pressure change on your leg. Minho is gone, and so is the rest of your squad it seems, gates closed.
They left you for dead.
He left you for dead.
Hot, angry tears roll down your face as your vision begins to blacken, unable to keep it inside anymore. Loose hair tumbles over your eyes, getting stuck in the mix of tears and blood, slicking over your forehead when you put your head down on the gravel path. Every muscle in your body is crying out, burning white hot as you're lifted.
Someone puts an arm under your armpits and another under your legs, holding you bridal style, and your head falls into their chest. You know it's not Seungmin, having forced him to carry you enough times when you were too lazy to walk to a shared class or back to your room. Eyes barely open, you watch as blurry figures run back in the direction of the hole in the wall. There's a group of three in front of you, one holding onto another while the third helps them keep up with the rest of the group.
"Anyone see Ji?" The one holding you yells out, voice thick with an Australian accent.
"Last I saw, he was climbing out of the lookout." Someone jogs up beside you. "She looks like crap. Why didn't you leave her?"
"Everyone else already left her, figured she could use a hand."
"Do you think he's gonna be okay back there?" They ask. "Lots of military personnel and still tons of infected wandering about too."
"He'll be fine." He stops walking. "Mind opening the trunk? And maybe riding back here with her?"
"You know I hate riding in the back, it makes me nervous," they grumble, but still obey the request. "Lemme go grab my pack from the other truck."
"Don't bother, we're all going to the same place." He lifts you up, placing you down carefully on what feels like a thin blanket and flat pillow. "Better to get out now-"
"Hey! I'm here!" A voice cuts him off. "Damn, that looks a lot worse up close."
"Oh thank God." The person who was supposed to stay with you steps away from the truck. "He can go with her considering he saved her life and all. See you!"
See you later.
"Seung... Seungmin...?" You mumble, eyes fluttering closed as you feel the back of the truck move under the weight of someone stepping on it. "Is he...?"
"Shh." A warm hand gently pushes the strands of hair off your face. "Man, she's burning up."
"Here. Keep an eye on her until we get back to camp." The voice gets further away. "Bang on the back window if she starts dying or something."
"Got it." That's the last thing you hear before slipping into the dark completely.
-
Three days later, you open your eyes. They're dry, having to blink several times before you can register the dim light around you. You're on an uncomfortable cot in what you assume is a medical tent, three other unoccupied cots around you. Next to each is a small wooden table, all empty except yours which has half a bottle of water and a lantern, the source of the light. The entrance of the tent is closed, but you can still tell it's night. Looking over to the other side, you see someone's back turned to you.
"Hel-" You clear your throat, voice low and rough. "Hello? Where... am I?"
You try to sit up as they walk over to you, but pain shoots through your very soul. Biting back a shout, you stop moving.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He hands you the water. "Drink up.
"You look familiar," You say, taking in his foxlike features. "Is this another outpost?"
"No, not exactly." He turns his face away from you. "I have to let the others know you're awake, but take this-" He hands you a couple of pills. "-it'll help with the pain."
With that, he exists the tent. You don't know how long it takes until he comes back with another man by his side, but you've managed to sit up the best you can. One of your legs is tucked under you, the left sticking straight out in a makeshift splint.
"You're awake." You recognize the accent.
"You're the one who saved me."
He chuckles, taking a seat in a chair on the right.
"I can't take all the credit," He says, looking down at his hands briefly. "One of our snipers took out the infected on you. You asked about your teammate before passing out... he's okay, still recovering from a shoulder injury though."
"Seungmin's okay?" You shift suddenly in your bed, bad move, and wince at the soreness.
"Try not to move so much," The boy from earlier says.
"Yes, he's okay, and he's been asking about you too." He sits back. "This is only the second time he's left your side since you got here."
Hearing that makes your heart ache.
"So, I figure it's time for proper introductions!" He claps his hands together, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "My name is Chan, welcome to what's left of the rebellion. That over there-" he points to the boy, who really looks about your age. "-is Jeongin."
"What?" Your head whips toward the boy. "That's why you look familiar! This is where you went? Oh my God, everyone thought you were dead! Does Min know?"
"That's..." Jeongin crosses his arms uncomfortably. "A story for another time."
"Chan!" A head pops into the tent. "Oh, I didn't realize she was awake, sorry."
"It's okay. What is it Chae?"
"The squad is back," She announces. "I told H-"
"Captain!" A man strides into the tent and 'Chae' leaves with a small eye roll.
"I told you to stop calling me that-" Chan stands, rubbing his forehead. "I'm kind of busy right now, the report will have to wait a minute."
Chan gestures toward you and the man's eyes widen.
"She's awake! I mean, you're awake, sorry," He says, giving an awkward smile and holding a hand out; you take it hesitantly. "I'm Han, Han Jisung. The guy who saved your ass."
---
notes ▪︎ first chapter let's goooo. i'm actually so excited for this u have no idea. i love love LOVE zombie/apocalypse stuff sm!! so it's nice to share smthn like that
─── taglist (18+) : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie
#⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS#skz#stray kids#han jisung x reader#han jisung x fem reader#han jisung#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#zombie au#zombie apocalypse au#skz zombie au#han jisung fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz series#han jisung series
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daddy’s kid
warnings :: none
genre :: parent-child fluff
including :: g. tomioka | k. rengoku | s. shinazugawa | g. himejima | s. kocho | o. iguro | m. kanroji | m. tokito | t. uzui
synopsis :: the hashiras meet giyuu's adopted 8 y/o kid who is very much a daddy's kid
pairings :: giyuu tomioka x child reader
prologue
giyuu tomioka is a very quiet man. he rarely says anything and prefers only to speak when absolutely necessary. being the water pillar, no matter how undeserving he feels of it, is his position.
one faithful night, he was given a mission. he did as told and followes his kasugai crow to the location wherein he was to slay the demon. he finds that he was too late and that the entire village was in ruins. in a quick response to the situation, he slays the demon and looks around to see the damage done.
checking every house, he finds everyone slaughtered. everyone but you. he tries to assess your condition. looking around, he sees three bodies. a male, a woman and a girl.
he comes to you and crouches. “uhm. who are they to you, kid?” he asks, an awkward aura filling the room. to you, it seemed he didn't know what to do with a child. you weren't surprised. your parents didn't either.
“m-my parents..the other girl is my older sister...” you mutter. he comes in a little closer, making you flinch. “it’s okay. i- uh- i won’t hurt you.” his voice sounded so calm. like the tranquil lakes of your home. or the serenity of the sky at night.
still shocked at the situation, he ponders what to do with you. with what you witnessed, and at your age too, you may just end up like him. labeled as insane. that was something that won’t go away easily. he didn’t want you to go through it. “what’s your name?” he asks you.
“i’m [name]…who are you, sir?”
“I’m giyuu tomioka. would you like to come with me, [name]?”
your eyes widen at his question. was he being serious? he wanted to take you in? in the spur of the moment, you nod. though you felt as if you wouldn’t regret the decision.
months later, you had grown accustomed to giyuu tomioka. his presence in your life has drastically changed you. granted, the trauma of what you saw was still there, but you were happy with him. you called him dad, and he didn’t get angry with it. you could hug him and he wouldn’t push you away.
you sat out in the gardens of his estate, watching the sky, as a familiar bird swoops in and drops a letter onto the man beside you. “what’s that, dad?” you ask.
opening the letter, you peer over to your side to get a glimpse (one which he gladly gave you privilege to do). it seems to have been a while since he received a letter, so naturally he was curious. he reads the contents and his eyebrows rise. it seems that master ubuyashiki has discovered of your presence and existence in his life and has invited him to bring you to his estate to meet his colleagues. he was of course, conflicted if he should expose you to their…antics. would you grow to hate him like they did him?
on the day you were set to meet the rest of the hashiras, you walk into the ubuyashiki estate gardens with your father. you hid in his haori, slightly nervous because you hadn’t had contact with much people other than the people in the tomioka estate, and of course, tomioka himself.
peeking out of his haori, he softly urges you to say hello to the people in front of you.
“h-hello. i’m [name] tomioka. it’s- it’s nice to meet you..”
gyomei himejima
my mans wouldn’t see obv
but he would be able to hear what’s going on and put the dots together himself
either that or whoever’s beside him will update him with what’s happening
when you approach him he melts
like if he was ice cream, he’d be an entire puddle of it
because omg
a child walked up to him and that’s just so cute HAJSHAJS
“it’s very nice to meet you, [name]. i'm gyomei himejima.”
would 100% give u piggybacks
and you love it bc upsies or u don’t if you hate heights and say sorry about it
that or it wouldn’t happen bc he would’ve asked before carrying
“you have a very cute child, tomioka. bless your souls.”
pretty much a 10/10 with him
because who wouldn’t love gyomei?
uzui tengen
would drop
guy would have his jaw on the ground
because the quiet, reserved and boring one of them that’s his words not mine has a child?!??!?
yes. yes he does.
would probably be a little awkward with you
like not shy awkward
it’s the kind where he wouldn’t know what to do with you
it’s as if you’re an object he needs to figure out bc let’s be fr his expertise is women not children
he does care for your safety bc well- you’re a person
well he does admire the deed giyuu did
“that’s a very flamboyant deed, tomioka! and your child is er- flamboyant as well!”
yk that meme where a man carries their child by the ankle upside down?
yea, that’s the vibe between you and him
he doesn’t know what to do, help the poor man
like actually get him some much needed help
rengoku kyojuro
he has a little brother
ofc the man is great with kids
he sees you come right out of tomioka’s haori and he was quite shocked
of all the hashiras he never expected giyuu with a child
though he finds it admirable and adorable
sweet bby
would definitely eat with you
and try out different foods with you
you love him because he’s fun
also because he isn’t mean to giyuu
unlike other people that we will get on with later
he’s probably gonna be a good babysitter
sometimes he’s a little loud but it doesn’t bother you that much
tries to be quiet around you if you’re sensitive to sound
100/10 great man
giyuu likes him so you were more open to being with him rather than obanai.
mitsuri kanroji
squeel
this woman will squeel
no shame in it because
well, there’s an adorable child. who happens to be giyuu tomioka’s child.
put the words adorable and child in one sentence and she will go berserk
would be good with you as well!
you’re slightly shy because of her revealing clothes
bc giyuu taught you to look away in situations like that (we love a respectful king)
so you just learned not to look
and now you’re shy
mainly about the fact that her clothes show her ‘forbidden things’ as you called it
she would definitely try out food with you with rengoku
omg you’d admire her hair a lot because you’ve never seen anything like it
she loves how you haven’t been tainted by the beauty standards
big sister energy and we love that
and ofc giyumitsu friendship?? so she’s like the cool aunt or sister or whatever
muichiro tokito
is pretty neutral with you at first.
and this is after he regains his memories
but then you approach him with a smile on your face
and he’s reminded if himself years ago
so innocent and carefree
which ends up with him having a somewhat soft spot for you
you see him as an older brother because giyuu practically treats the guy as his kid
was still aloof so he let you play with his katana once during a hashira meeting
was scolded by giyuu and shinobu afterwards
it never happened again.
you like his company because he’s quiet but still manages to be amiable with you
you think that his aloof personality kinda reminds you of giyuu
and it’s comforting
god he might attempt to carry you
keywords: might and attempt
he might if he wasn’t tired and if he actually wasn’t tired, he would attempt to atleast twice
until he gives up
just cuties being cuties
iguro obanai
see, i sometimes despise this man but love him at the same time
but i really think he’d berate you your dad
the man lives off of messing with your father
what on earth makes you think he wouldn’t give you the exact same treatment?
if anything, the only reason he’ll end up being nice to you is because of mitsuri
she likes you and he likes her so conclusion:
he has to try to like you.
that, and also partially because mitsuri got frantic when you cried because of his snake.
we all love kabarumaru but there’s never enough works where he just scares the living daylights off of the reader
in the end, he would probably refrain from saying bad things about you
you, not your dad. he still despises your dad.
can you see it? how much i loathe his actions towards giyuu? <3
you don’t like him either, don’t worry. he just-
he’s mean to your dad and you’re such a daddy’s girl so why wouldn’t you?
at this point i’m projecting so i’ll stop this here-
sanemi shinazugawa
omg he doesn’t like you at first
keyword: at first.
he obviously doesn’t like how you are in any relation to giyuu
but then you trip in front of him and you cry
and somehow, he helps you.
he doesn’t know why
he just did
so now you follow him around when you visit because
he helped you
and so with that, he learned to adapt to your presence
less mean to giyuu because he saw how you absolutely despise obanai
like he just doesn’t wanna upset you???
he will project onto you
by project, i mean he will at one point see you as one of his dead siblings
please get the man some help
please
omg would let you draw on his scars
because you think they’re pretty
oh and you were wary of him at first
bc you thought he was as mean as obanai
jokes on u, he just really misunderstands giyuu’s words lmao
shinobu kocho
normal smiling kind of impression
is soft with you
like less offhanded remarks when you are nearby
would treat your wound when you fell in front of sanemi
is probably awkward when you cry
because she can handle wounds but crying children?
not exactly her forte
that was kanae’e thing, not hers.
no matter how much she tried to imitate kanae
crying children is not her thing
you absolutely adore her hair
especially the pretty purple tips
and her voice puts you to sleep sometimes
ofc giyuu does the ‘sleep from calm voice’ thing better than she does
but it works so whatever
would scold tengen because she just knows
she knows of the vibe you and him radiate
(yk, the guardian carrying a child by the ankle.)
is protective of you because
well you’re a child.
you didn’t deserve to witness what you did
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny headcanons#demon slayer x child reader#hashira x child reader#muichiro tokito#mitsuri kanroji#gyomei himejima#sanemi shinaguzawa#giyuu tomioka#shinobu kocho#obanai iguro#tengen uzui#rengoku kyojuro#giyuu x child reader#giyuu tomioka x child reader#hashiras#rose’s garden#daisy fics 💮
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summary. | Your owner has a special request for you.
prompts. | Lloyd Hansen + Mob/Mafia + “I love hearing you beg. You’re much sweeter that way.” + Pet Play, requested by Anonymous.
pairing. | dark!mob boss!Lloyd Hansen x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, mobs/mafias, kidnapping, pet play (puppy) (collar, plug/tail, tag), pet names, Sir kink, shoe grinding, orgasm (f), smut, begging, dirty talk, mild degradation, praise, mention/allusion to creampie, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics
Lloyd said you were collateral damage. He also said you were a witness to something you shouldn’t have seen. No matter his reasoning, it doesn’t change that he wanted you—and so he took you.
Lloyd Hansen—the mob leader and the city’s most feared man—always gets what he wants.
You’ve gotten used to the feeling of the plug in your ass, especially with the pretty tail connected to it. To him, you’re his little puppy. You wear a headband with matching ears and even a collar with a tag. His information is etched onto the metal.
With two snaps, your owner demands you come to him. You crawl on the hardwood floors and stop in front of him, behind his desk. Lloyd looks down at you approvingly, a smirk on his face. You think about how handsome he is as you admire him. You’re so very lucky.
“Attagirl. What an obedient little pet,” Lloyd praises and you give him a big smile. “Thank you, Sir,” you tell him, though you keep your voice small and quiet, just the way he likes it.
One of Lloyd’s large hands reaches down, and he pats your head a few times. You lean into his warm touch as your body is stark naked except for your knee-high socks. Your cunt is dripping wet, staining your inner thighs.
“Wanna play, puppy?” he asks, with pure mischief written on his face. You eagerly nod your head, and Lloyd smiles. He sits back in his chair and turns it to face you. “You’re gonna ride my shoe ‘til it’s nice and shiny—but you only get to come when I say so. Got it?” he tells you.
Your pussy throbs at his words. “Yes, Sir. I understand,” you say. “Good girl,” he hums, tapping the foot he wants you to straddle. You do as he says, resting your pussy on his expensive loafer.
Lloyd snaps his fingers three times, and you begin to grind your hips, rubbing your cunt on his shoe. “And I wanna hear those pathetic sounds, too, pet,” he demands, and you let yourself moan as loud as you want. Your swollen clit receives the perfect amount of attention, and your slick makes a mess everywhere.
Your owner looks down to make sure you’re doing a decent job. He nods approvingly, one hand palming his dick through his trousers. The other sifts through different files of upcoming targets—men who have been desecrating his territory for the last few weeks.
The large office is filled with your garbled moans and adorable mewls, along with your cute whimpers that make Lloyd want to shove his cock into your mouth and fuck your face ruthlessly.
You continue gyrating your hips, picking up the pace when your orgasm starts to build up. You grab your owner’s leg and hold onto it, tugging on his pants just as bit as you stare up at him. The tag on your collar shakes with each movement, and Lloyd finally looks down at you.
“Aw, are you gonna come already, puppy?” he questions, and you rapidly nod your head. “That quick, huh? Just a desperate little slut,” he growls, and you continue to nod. “Go on, you know what to do. Ask nicely,” Lloyd demands.
“Please, please, please, Sir. Please let me come!” you plead, and he snickers in satisfaction. Lloyd enjoys humiliating you—and after all that conditioning, you’ve come to like it, too. “Ah, I love hearing you beg. You’re much sweeter that way,” he sighs, and you can feel the elastic band in your stomach tightening.
“Go ahead. Make a mess on my shoe, pup,” he says, and you gasp in relief. “Th– Thank you, Sir! You’re the best owner,” you tell Lloyd, just as he likes to hear. You reach your climax, and your hips buck, clit throbbing as you soak your captor’s shoe in your juices.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he husks, and his dick is so hard that it hurts. Lloyd can’t just leave it like that—not when he’s got the perfect fleshlight in front of him.
Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you ride out your high. You continue thanking Lloyd, sounding like a broken record. Eventually, he shushes you, and he lifts you up with ease. You look down and nearly gasp at how shiny his shoe is. Lloyd simply chuckles.
He places you on his lap and unzips his fly, freeing his large cock out of its confines. He gives himself a few strokes as you settle on top of him. “If you’re extra good, pup, I’ll even come inside of you. How does that sound?” Lloyd asks.
Although you used to feel sick with humiliation at his treatment, his words make you even wetter. You eagerly tell him how much you’d love that. “I know you do, puppy.”
#sabs concepts#lloyd hansen#the gray man#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen fanfiction#lloyd hansen smut#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x y/n#lloyd hansen x female reader#dark!lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!#request#smut#lemon#drabble#sab’s dark concepts (2023)#chris evans
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Mediums, DP prompt
ok ok, hear me out. There's this fic I read years ago- this one - and basically it has Harry Potter using his MoD powers in a new world as a medium. He brings people back and learns stuff and people give him money for the info, you know, what mediums do.
Now, consider this: Danny Fenton -yes, FENTON- becomes a medium. Could be like the fic where it's in a new world, thus a crossover, could not be. You do you, idk I've literally never written a prompt before.
But anyway, yea, imagine it! It would probably be something he stumbled into due to his rouges messing with him by following him around invisible (or just Youngblood, since he can only be seen by kids) and since it's Amity, people don't think crazy, they think oh man can that Fenton kid see ghosts all the time? Even ones we can't see? Maybe even...new ones?
Imagine:
Danny: Hello how may I help you today
Customer, flashing crazy eyes: I need you to tell me how my mother died
Danny:
Danny: Sir, this is the Nasty Burger
Customer: You're a Fenton, and I've heard the rumors, you can see ghosts normal people can't. Please, I need to know.
Danny, who definitely can't see these 'other' ghosts, his rouges have just been messing with him a little too much while invisible lately: Look-
Customer: NO! I will not take no for an answer!
*they are starting to draw too much attention*
Danny, nervous whispers: Look, I'll ask around ok? But you can't be saying this kinda stuff out in the open, you know the Anti-Ecto laws will go after collaborators. They don't care about collateral damage
Customer, looking around apologetically: You're right, I'm sorry I just- She died so suddenly and the police have nothing. Her name was Jasmine Bale please, please I just want to make sure she's ok.
And thus, Danny stumbles onto a much better paying job than the Nasty Burger. or something idk I haven't written anything in a while.
OR
Danny, desperate for money on the streets of Gotham.
Danny: hey my guy, do you think if I told your son something from you, he would give me 10 buck?
Jack Drake, startled someone can see him lurking outside a coffee shop spying on his son: Uh- what.
#danny phantom#dp prompt#dc x dp#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#dp#dp crossover#dp au#medium au#you should really read that fic even if you aren't really in those fandoms#its really good#danny fenton#danny phantom crossover#danny phantom prompt#is this how you tumblr?#writing prompt#i don't know#how to do this#haha anyways#this will be my daily#scream into the void#since no one will see it#probably#ok thanks bye
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Curious what you'd say about Soap for the character ask game. You haven't really spoken about him as much as the others so I'm curious :O (id love to hear about every single character tho i wont lie to you but i have a feeling you'll get asked about those lol)
@nekrosmos asked for Soap too.
Honestly? There is unfortunately a reason. I lingered around fandom for a good few months before I got involved at all. I saw some behaviour from his fanbase that I didn't like and so I made the conscious choice that he's not a character I'd probably be creating much for. I love the art, happy to support creators, etc. Besides, there are so many delicious, delicious rarepairs to love and create for and plenty of gallant, productive, devoted Ghoapers.
He's quite compelling though, and I've got quite a few thoughts and headcanons, and I'm happy to write prompts with him. A few friends on Discord really love him and I like to create for them too, cause happy friends give me the fuzzies. So, you know, a story idea might grip me by the balls and I'll wack out a long form thing.
favorite thing about them
His journals.
Reading those finally gave me a connection with his character that I hadn't developed previously. But they really show how driven he is, how much he wants to be the best he can be, so he's not a burden, so he doesn't let anyone down. He's constantly striving to earn his place to the point that it kills him in the end.
I think he genuinely struggles with wanting to be liked (as part of 'earning his place'), and I think he is often too much for people. Ghost giving back as good as he gets is a comfortable relationship because the line for Ghost is way, way in the distance; Johnny doesn't have to worry like he does with 'normal' people. Neither of them is fuckin' normal.
Price giving him a chance would have been the first step towards the hero-style worship he has for him. "What? Me? Ye want... me? Aye, aye I will be the best fuckin' dog ye ever had, I will bite my own leg off for ye." Everything Soap does is to prove that Price didn't make a mistake. That he was a good investment. And Price, the sly fucker, knows it. He sees himself there.
least favorite thing about them
I wish they had given him a stronger accent and leaned more into that in the games. In fact, I wish that for all of them.
I also think that Soap has capacity to cause great harm without even realising it. Like, we get glimpses of it; he's nearly court-martialled for punching out a copper. In his single-minded pursuit of something, I reckon there could be a lot of collateral damage.
He lacks confidence but will cover it up by being an arsehole and doing arsehole things (such as smuggling a girl on base to impress The Guys). I say I like "least favourite"; I think this makes him compelling as a character. He's not all sunshine and rainbows. He's just as gritty, professional and flawed as the rest of 'em.
favorite line
"You sick bastard..."
"My kingdom for a suppressor..."
"Price?... This belongs to you, sir."
brOTP
Gaz & Soap
OTP
Uh... none really. Ghost/Soap?
nOTP
Don't have any strong feelings on any.
random headcanon
He's really bad at team sport. He showed no interest in any when he was growing up. Gym? Running? Swimming? Anything where the only competition is himself and his own limits? That's where Soap's head is.
unpopular opinion
Honestly? I don't know which of my opinions would be unpopular. Probably the 'not sunshine and rainbows' one, maybe?
song i associate with them
favorite picture of them
#johnny soap mactavish#cod#call of duty#dunno is this too negative for his tags?#let me know i guess
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All The Things I Did (7): I Thought About Thinking It Through
a/n: ok so the first blurb of the sleep talking interlude has been somewhat negated so I apologize but promise it is worth it. heavy shit this chapter as we get the full story on sidney landry. but john might say the L word...
warnings: mentions of domestic violence, mentions of character just wanting it all to stop
When John walked into the pub that night, the sounds of an angel laughing reached his ears but the cause was making his fists curl. Cass was seated at a table in the back corner with a man, who he presumed was Mr. Foster, sitting across from her. Her chin was in her hand the way it was whenever he told her a funny story. Her smile was as soft as candlelight as she nodded along to whatever he was telling her. Swears he felt his blood boil when her hand brushed against his across the table.
“Hey, baby, I didn’t think I was going to see you here tonight.” His annoyance was washed away as she turned to greet him with a smile. She said his name and brought him in for a kiss, John using her proximity to press a few more to her lips.
“John, this is Captain Will Foster. We went to spook school in Maryland together.” John kept one arm around the back of her chair as he shook the man’s hand.
“Major Egan, it’s an honor, sir.”
“Hear that, Cass, some people think it’s an honor to meet me.” She rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her soda. “You’re the one who’s going to keep an eye on my girl in Berlin?”
“I’ll do my best, sir, but this is Cass’ operation. I’m just here to do what she tells me.” Cass blushed and ducked her head. “Lieutenant Cooper graduated top of our class. Highest marks the entire year.”
“It’s not that impressive,” she began. “Not like I can fly a plane.”
“None of that,” John stated as he gripped her chin between his fingers. “You are the smartest, most gorgeous, most impressive woman that has ever walked this earth.” She smiled in spite of the ridiculousness and let him pull her in for another kiss.
“Careful, John, or all this is going to go to my head. Then I’ll be truly insufferable.”
“I have never once complained about your company.” As it always did, the rest of the world sealed itself off from the space between them. As soon as they had their eyes on each other there was nothing else that mattered. “Can I get you a refill?”
“Yes, please.” John kissed her forehead and was off in the direction of the bar.
“You and the Major, huh?”
“He is…a welcome surprise. I saw him get off a plane one day and couldn’t shake the look in his eyes.”
“Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back,” Will replied with a swig of his beer. “You always were good at learning everything about your target without giving up even a hint of yourself.”
“John’s not my target. He’s my-” She stopped. What was he? Was there a word to describe their relationship status? Partner seemed too severe and official. Boyfriend seemed too trivial. “Mine. He’s just mine. And I’m his.”
“Simple. That works.” Oh, if he only knew. The feelings they had for each other, ability to express them agnostic, were simple. They were pure. They were real. They were warm and comforting and made her nerves tingle. But the world around them was so complicated. The lives they led as individuals were complicated, how were they supposed to twine them together? “And to think you were a runaway bride when I first met you.”
“Runaway bride?” John chose the perfect time to return. Catching the one part of that comment that Cass felt in her chest. “You?”
“It’s an exaggeration of the circumstances.” Cass transitioned to damage control. The topic of why she had left South Carolina in the first place hadn’t come up between her and John. And she had wanted to keep it that way. There was no use pouring salt in her old wounds.
“Oh, come on, Cass. Engaged to marry the big time banker’s son and fleeing the engagement party to enlist in the OSS? It’s an incredible story.” For the second time that day, John found himself furious with the tone someone was using to speak to her. She had fully retreated into herself, focused on the condensation rolling down the side of the bottle, her hands shaking in her lap at the reminder of that night.
“Doesn’t seem like she wants to talk about it, Captain.” There was authority in his tone. It was protective. Purposeful. No room to misinterpret his words. “You okay?” It looked like she was having trouble breathing. As if the amount of trauma trapped in her chest was suffocating her.
“No. I just need some air. Alone.” She doesn’t think she could look John in the eye. Not when he now knew the awful truth. Not when she was now nothing but damaged and spoiled goods. John watched her walk away with a clenched jaw.
“Major-”
“I don’t know what the fuck happened in South Carolina, Foster, but if I ever hear you mention it again it will be the last thing you ever do.” John drained the rest of his whiskey and slammed it on the table. He didn’t wait for a response. He meant the words he said. And Will knew it.
----
“There’s more than one of them,” John mocked as he sat across from the RAF officers. “I can see more than one of you, too. I could knock all of you out.” Cass hadn’t come back into the pub and John had just drowned his anger and worry in amber liquid. Buck and Veal helped settle him down as he yelled he could do it in only one punch.
“You want to get Major excited? Baseball. Specifically the Yankees,” Curt offered.
“Really? I would have thought it was the little poppet who left close to tears.” No one tried to stop him when he stood this time.
“Say that again,” he threatened.
“Why don’t we make a bit of sport out of it, Major?”
“I’ve got him, John, let me take care of him,” Curt reasoned. Really, they were all afraid John might kill him. A better man would know when to step aside. Let a more level head prevail. But John wasn’t in any particular mood to take the high ground.
“Not this time. People in this goddamn pub need to stop talking about her.” They all milled outside and John tossed his blazer into the grass. He wondered if Cass would appreciate the gesture or be repulsed by it. If she ever believed violence was the answer or always chose to think her way out of everything. He ducked the weak hand of the Brit as he thought about the way she looked earlier. The way she had hid herself from his gaze and his touch and requested she be alone. He didn’t like the hole in his chest that she left whenever she wasn’t near.
His fist landed square on his target’s face and the sickening crunch of breaking bone echoed throughout the night air. He pictured Harding’s lovesick eyes when his Cass entered the room. Pictured Foster and his words quelling the fire inside of his Cass in an instant. Pictured this pompous asshole watching his Cass walk from the pub with a shake to her shoulders. Cass was a deity that mere men were not meant to get too close to. John didn’t even believe he deserved the way she looked at him. The way she touched him and comforted him and made him feel at home in a faraway land.
“You good, Bucky?” The others were cheering and laughing and slapping him on the shoulder but Buck looked concerned more than anything.
“I gotta protect her, Buck. I can’t let this place take her from me.” He couldn’t even feel the wounds to his knuckles or the blood of another man trickling down his fingers. “I’ll find you guys later.” John ignored their groans and pleas and grabbed his jacket from the ground before heading off in her direction. His north star. He would always follow her home.
----
He knocked softly against her door, Mary not hiding her eye roll at his disheveled uniform and bloodied knuckles when she had begrudgingly let him in, his forehead landing against the wood as he waited for her to answer.
“You found me,” she whispered softly as she cracked the door open an inch.
“Always will,” he replied sincerely. “Can I come in?” She nodded and opened the door wider, John closing it behind him as she sat on the edge of her bed. He looked around and noticed a packed bag on the floor and a stack of envelopes on her desk. The one on top looked like it was addressed to her parents.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come back after…” John shook his head.
“You were upset. He shouldn’t have said what he said.” Cass chuckled drily and looked at the ceiling.
“You have my back, just like that? Without even knowing what it was he was talking about?” He sat down in her chair, elbows landing on the top of his thighs. “What happened to your hand?” She surged forward and held his hand in hers with a delicacy that made him shudder.
“I was having your back.” Not asking any further, she opened a drawer and pulled out a first aid kit. “And to answer your question, yes. It doesn’t matter what he was talking about. If it made you uncomfortable, it needed to stop.” He didn’t wince as she cleaned the blood from his hand, kissing each knuckle for extra measure, and wrapping a bandage to seal in her love.
“I appreciate that, John, but what he said was true.” He winced now.
“About being another man’s bride?” The thought made him sick. The thought that Cass was already someone else’s. That she hadn’t told him and let him fall in love with her and share in those sacred moments together. That maybe that was why she so rigidly didn’t want him to say so.
“I was supposed to be. Before I left for training, I was engaged.” She paused and waited for his reaction. Waited for him to be angry or upset and tell her she wasn’t worth the trouble.
“And I’m sure you left for a reason, Cass.” His desire to understand her almost hurt her chest. It reminded her exactly why she had left. Why Sidney Landry was most certainly not the man she was meant to marry. “You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to drudge something up if you’ve already gotten over it.”
“No, if…if me and you are going to be me and you, you need to know. You deserve to know.” John leaned forward to hold her hands, kissing the back of them with all the love he could muster. “His name is Sidney Landry. His father is the biggest banker in the state and they’ve been looking to get their claws into my family’s business for decades.” Her hands shook slightly and he squeezed them tight.
“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m not leaving.”
“By all accounts it was an advantageous match. They were wealthy and powerful and Sidney could have any girl in Charleston that he wanted but for some god awful reason he wanted me. My mother was so delighted. She had found a man who was willing to try to tame me.” A tear rolled down her cheek and John’s thumb wiped it away.
“Cass…”
“I had no choice but to say yes and let him parade me around like some blue ribbon. I was so miserable every second I was with him. He would grab my arms so tight they bruised everytime we went somewhere. He would say the crudest things about me having his children. I spent months just wanting it all to stop.” The tears were coming in full force. Her hands grasping John’s like he was her anchor in the storm. His own eyes were swimming with emotion as he watched her exorcize these demons from within her. “One night he had been drinking so much I couldn’t understand what he was saying. But he was so angry I wouldn’t let him touch me. So angry that he…”
“You don’t have to tell me,” he repeated, “I know all I need to, Cass.” John already knew he was going to kill Sidney Landry. Didn’t know when but he knew it would be slow.
“His hands were around my neck and I thought he was going to kill me. I hit him as hard as I could over and over before he stopped. I ran and I ran and I ran until I couldn’t breathe.”
“You ran all the way to London, huh?” he said in the hopes of getting a smile to crack across her face. It worked.
“I thought I ended up here because I was running away from him but maybe I was really just running to you.”
“That sounds about right,” he murmured as he stroked the top of her cheeks. “What you went through…You are so fucking strong, Cass. You deserve to be happy and to feel loved and protected.”
“I’m so damaged, John. I’m not meant for a life of teacups and doilies and standing there silently. No one is going to want this version of me.” Now that he knew the truth, she expected him to run too. To find a simple girl who could be the wife he deserved and the mother to his children he deserved.
“That’s not true, Cass, because I,” he swallowed and held her face between his hands, steady and strong, “because I love you. I am so fucking in love with you, Cassandra Cooper. I love every last bit of you and I love this version of you and know I’ll love every version that comes after.” She kissed him ferociously, not able to get enough of him even with no distance between them. “Come home with me when this is all over. Do me the honor and make me the happiest man alive.”
“I will, John, I will.” He kissed her with a groan, eager to lock this promise between them. “John, you need to know that I leave for Berlin in the morning. The operation it’s…it’s…others have tried and they haven’t come back.”
“I’m not letting you say goodbye,” he reasoned. “Not when you got me thinking about an after.” Oh it was so cruel and dangerous for the universe to do this to him. Give him the one thing he’d been wanting only to have her live her life on the same edge he did.
“If something happens to me, I need you to know I feel the same way you do.” She just needed to get through this. If she could survive Berlin, she could survive this whole thing. She could love John Egan wholeheartedly and unabashedly. She could find the courage to go back home if he was with her. “When I went to see Harding this morning, I went to turn down Berlin.”
“Turn it down?”
“I would have rather been here with you than anywhere else. No matter what those consequences were. But then I saw Buck’s letter and I was so angry.”
“I know. I deserve that.” She shook her head.
“No, you don’t because here I am doing the exact same thing.”
“Hey, you’re not going to need those farewell letters on your desk, okay? You’re going to go to Berlin, kick someone’s ass or steal state secrets to end the war and you’re going to come right back home to me. Just like how I am always going to come right back home to you.”
“Forever and ever?” she asked.
“Forever and ever,” he promised. “You going to let me hold you while we try and get some sleep tonight?”
And that was how Mary found them before the sun rose the following morning. John protectively wrapped around Cass from behind, their fingers interlocked at her middle. And they both studied each other for a few more minutes until Mary said it was really, really time for Cass to go. John not wanting to forget a single thing about this very moment. Cass not wanting to forget a single detail about the face of the man she loved. The face of the man she was fighting to keep safe.
“Don’t get distracted by thoughts of your love for me while you’re flying,” she teased as he pecked her lips a few times.
“I am going to fly so much faster with that admission off my chest.” She giggled and fell back into him easily, her plane whirring to life behind them.
“If you do, I might let you show me how much you love me when I get back.” That twinkle of mischief was there that he loved so dearly.
“Is that so? You better hurry then. I’m a patient man, Spook, but not when it comes to loving on you.”
“Cass! We got to go! Weather’s moving in!” Her heart dropped along with her smile as she turned back to John. The part she was dreading.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” she said, her fingers tracing the contours of his face one last time. His knuckles brushed her cheek and he kissed her one last time.
“I love you. You come back to me in one piece. That’s an order, Lieutenant.”
“I’ll do my best, Major.” She pulled him by the front of his jacket for her own last kiss. To tell him she loved him without saying the words. Those would be for after.
She walked backwards until she couldn’t anymore. Her hand pressing to her lips before she released it into the wind, John catching the sentiment with ease. He had never felt such torment watching a plane take off as he did in that moment. It was carrying everything he held dear off to a faraway place.
“Please come back to me, Cass.”
#masters of the air#john egan#callum turner#mota#masters of the air fanfiction#john egan fanfiction#callum turner fanfiction#mota fanfiction#masters of the air fanfic#john egan fanfic#mota fanfic#callum turner fanfic#john egan x oc#john egan x reader#cass and bucky
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I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)
C H A P T E R F I V E : B A T H R O O M
summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?
warnings: spicy scene in this chapter. I do not recommend having a relationship like reader and Levi have right now. Don't participate in toxic relationships and use condoms pls
ao3
You stare into Levi's stormy eyes as his eyes devoured your body. He looked at Jean's hand, like he was waiting for him to move it. But he didn't.
"Boss, you okay?" Jean asked, taking a sip of his drink.
"I'll be fine once you stop touching her."
"I - what?" Jean looked at you with confusion. "You're dating Levi Ackerman?"
"Dated." You shoot Levi a glare. "I'm not his girlfriend anymore. We've been broken up for months."
Jean let out a sigh of relief but still looked nervously at Levi. "Sorry, sir. I didn't know you dated her."
"Now that you know you can get your hands off of her." He said flatly.
"You are so dramatic." You kiss Jean's cheek and turned around. "I'm going to the bathroom. Do not scare my date off while I'm gone." You push your index finger into Levi's chest.
Once you finish up in the bathroom and unlock the door to leave, a hand pushes you back into the room.
"I wish you would just leave me alone." You groan and look at Levi as he locks the door behind him.
"Do you?" Levi stalks toward you. "I think it's actually the opposite. I think you want me to go crazy."
Levi walks you until your back is to the wall. "Why the hell would I ever want that?" Your voice gets a bit louder. "I didn't WANT to let you go Levi. You gave me no choice. I'm finally okay enough to kiss a man that's not you. Please don't ruin it for me."
Levi's eyes wander your face as he hovers only inches from your face, looking for any sign of Jean.
"Looks like he left you something." Levi moved his thumb over the small bruise on your neck.
"There will be more where that came from. Now if you excuse me -"
Levi puts his arm on the wall right next to your face, his eyes peering through his jet black hair. He stared at you, his eyes softening a bit. He hasn't been this close to you in a long time. His lips are so close.
Your breath hitches as he leans in, his minty breath gracing your skin. Your eyes meet his and you know you shouldn't be doing this. This is the man who tore your reality apart. The man who made you question your life.
Levi leans in and presses his lips against yours gently, his free hand landing on your hip.
You should stop.
You need to stop.
You wrap your arms around Levi's neck, burying your fingers in his hair as his tongue invaded your mouth. He paid special attention to your bottom lip, biting it gently before bringing his hand to your ass and giving it a squeeze.
You moan at the contact and Levi brings his mouth to your neck, sucking and biting down your neck to your clavicle. His face was soon at your breasts, kissing each of them before pulling the straps down on your top. You help him unhook your top, letting it fall on the floor.
"Who do you think you are showing these to everyone?" Levi flicks one of your nipples with his tongue before covering it with his mouth, sucking gently. You throw your head back and let a moan escape your lips as he continues to bury himself in your tits.
You're breathing heavily when Levi brings his face back up to yours, colliding his lips with yours desperately. You hear his belt buckle hit the floor and his pants being kicked off his legs. You look down at watch as his cock springs from his boxer briefs, almost surprised by his length. You forgot how girthy he is.
You know you shouldn't be doing this.
Your date is literally outside.
You unbutton your jeans and slide them down your thick thighs, revealing your lacy black underwear.
"And you wore these?" Levi pulls on the fabric with his index finger. "My favorites." He pulls again.
"You're going to rip them." You swat his hand away.
"I'll buy you more." He groans into your ear, pulling the underwear down your legs. You turn around and bend over, both of your hands on the wall.
"No, look at me." Levi orders as he grips your thighs and holds you. "I want to see that pretty face when you come." He whispers as he teases his tip at your entrance. His hand slides down to your pussy to take care of your clit. "How is it that you're always so wet for me?" He smirks as he rubs your clit in circular movements.
You bite your bottom lip trying to hold back a moan. He presses just the tip of his cock into you and then retreats. A whine escapes your mouth involuntarily.
"Tell me you want me to fuck you." Levi huskily says into your ear. "Tell me you want me inside of you. That you want me to fuck you senseless."
You didn't want to give in, but God did you want him to fuck you.
"I can't hear you, Princess." Levi pressed his tip against your soaked pussy.
"Fuck me, Levi. Please." You moan his name which sounds like music to his ears.
"So polite." Levi whispers before gripping your ass harshly as he enters your body. He watches his cock disappear inside of you and feels your walls expanding around him to fit all of him. "My needy brat." He pushed his entire length into you, receiving a moan from you in return.
Levi guides your body up and down his length, digging his nails into your back and ass. You feel intense pleasure and your walls start to pulsate. His lips attach to your neck to where he, surprisingly gives you gently kisses. Completely opposite of the rough thrusts.
"You take me so well." Levi whispers and moans your name. The sound makes your stomach do flips as you feel your climax approaching.
"Fuck, Levi." Your walls tighten around him as you come, his cock still thrusting in and out of you quickly. He fucks you through your high as his climax approaches soon after. He covers your insides with him, pushing his entire length in side of you as he releases.
He breathes heavily as he pulls out, grabbing his underwear and pants.
"I didn't take you for a man that fucks in a bathroom. Especially a club one."
"I'll be disinfecting my entire body." Levi dried his hands and looks at you. You look down and pull your pants up along with your top, looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure you don't look too disheveled. You trace your finger on your neck and chest on all of the bruises Levi left.
"Good thing the club is dark I guess." You sigh and grab your purse. "That was the first and last time that happens." You unlock the door and push it open, leaving Levi in the bathroom, alone.
#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi x reader#levi ackerman smut#attack on titan#levi ackerman fanfic#aot#levi ackerman attack on titan
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Customer Service
Summary: Bucky’s former girlfriend helps him buy a new suit, but he’s there for other reasons. First part of a two part series.
Length: 3.6 K
Characters: Unnamed OFC, named minor OFC, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson.
Warnings: Bucky showing up unannounced at her workplace, OFC remembering the not so good times, anxiety.
Author notes: Once upon a time I worked retail. An ex-spouse or lover showing up unannounced was always problematic. I’m not terribly knowledgeable about what men’s suits go with an athletic build, although my research did lean to a preference for the Hugo Boss and Calvin Klein labels.
🥾 👔 💔
“There’s a customer here that wants to speak to a manager,” said Lynette, the clerk at the customer service desk, sticking her head in the door of the office. She had a big smirk on her face. “I’m just warning you to be careful.”
I pulled my glasses off to glare at her as I really didn’t have time to deal with a grumpy customer. She shrugged.
“That’s why you get paid the big bucks.”
I followed her out and turned the corner where the most beautiful man I had ever seen leaned on the counter, someone I knew well and hadn’t expected to ever see again. Tall, broad-shouldered, with soft dark brown hair, rugged good looks, and a pair of blue eyes that pierced me as sharp as a knife. He had a smirk on his face as if he knew exactly the effect he had on me.
“Good afternoon, sir,” I said, trying to modulate my voice so that I didn’t give away that I knew him. “How can I be of assistance?”
He looked at me in surprise. I was going to be like that was I? Well, two could play that game.
“I would like to return these work boots,” he said, in a manner that indicated he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “They fell apart the first time I used them at work.”
There was a black garbage bag on the counter that I assumed held the boots in question. Before I looked in it, I looked at him, trying to gauge if he was going to be one of those customers to me, in front of a witness. You know the type, someone who buys something to replace the worn-out ones he already has, then tries to pass the worn-out ones off as the newer model in order to get his money back. It’s a scam, and I could always pick out the type of person who would do that, which he wasn’t but it would be just like him to push the boundaries, trying to make me react to his being there. Internally I really hoped he wouldn’t go this far to punish me for ending it with him but his manner, although brusque, had none of the tells of someone who was trying to make life hard for me.
“Do you have your original receipt, sir?” I asked politely.
He nodded, pulled his wallet out of his jeans and opened it, revealing a carefully folded receipt that he handed to me, from his gloved hand. Lynette noticed the glove but stifled her reaction to it, except I could tell he noticed, as his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was a little bothered. Briefly, his eyes flickered to mine. Had I not told anyone about us?
Swallowing, I opened the bag and looked inside at a pair of boots that had definitely seen better days. Although the top portion of them and the tread looked fairly new it was obvious that whatever mission he used them for was too much for the boots to handle. In several places the top part of the boot had pulled away from the sole. The stitching had also split in several of the stress points. I could only imagine what he went through that had caused this much damage to the boots. It was one of the reasons we broke up; nights of imagining the mission, wondering if he was alright but not hearing from him, not until he walked through the door all bruised and battered, sometimes still bleeding because he didn’t want to bother the medical staff. Meaning that I had to patch him up and deal with the stoic suffering he inflicted on himself by not believing he was worth being looked after.
“May I ask what line of work you’re in?” I asked politely. “These were new but seem to have been subjected to a lot of ….” I didn’t want to say the abuse word. “Um … stress.”
“I have a stressful job,” he answered, still playing the part of the customer who was a stranger to me. As if he hadn’t ever touched me in ways that no other man had; had never told me he loved me, who hadn’t argued with me sometimes just for the sake of arguing and liked seeing me all fired up because it meant the makeup sex after would be incredible. “It sometimes involves a lot of … running, jumping, kicking, and often moving through uneven terrain of all types.”
“Okay,” I replied, taking in a breath and deciding I couldn’t do this anymore. “I’ll authorize the refund, since your receipt shows you’ve only had them a week but obviously this brand won’t stand up to the pressures of your job. I would suggest you try a specialty footwear store that can provide something sturdier for you.”
His face changed when he realized I wasn’t going to prolong this moment anymore. Mentioning he should buy elsewhere could also be taken that I didn’t want to see him come back here, to where I worked. I entered the refund in the cash register, asking him to insert his bank card to finish the procedure, then had him sign our copy of the new receipt. I looked at the signature, J.B. Barnes, then at him.
“Is there a problem?” He looked at me with his eyebrows raised; as if he was willing me to say something, anything that he could respond to.
“No, no problem.” I made the mistake of getting caught by those eyes, becoming a little lost in them. It wouldn’t have been the first time those eyes made me change my mind, but not this time. “You have nice handwriting.”
“Thank you,” he smiled sadly, making my heart flutter a little. “I appreciate the good customer service.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, then smiled my customer service smile as he turned around and walked away.
That should have been the end of it, except he turned around and looked at me one more time when he met up with Sam Wilson. He almost waved at me, but Bucky shook his head at him, and instead he just put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, in support. I heard Lynette gasp.
“That was Captain America,” she exclaimed. She grabbed the receipt that he signed. “That meant he was Bucky Barnes. He looked at you.”
“Of course, he looked at me. I was processing his refund.”
She wouldn’t stop talking about it, so I went out on the floor, wanting to get away from her incessant blathering about how I should go out with Bucky as it was obvious to her that he was sweet on me. Although I normally worked as a manager in the clothing department, I sometimes acted as customer service manager when that person had a day off. I still had a duty to walk around the store, making sure everything was working the way it should. That’s when I saw him again, Bucky, that is. He and Sam were in men’s wear, looking at shirts. By the sounds of it they were having a disagreement.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked.
They both turned to look at me then shared a look that can only be described as polar opposites. Sam grinned at Bucky, who scowled at him.
“He needs a dress shirt,” said Sam, playing along for the benefit of the male clerk on duty in men’s wear. “There’s a little problem in that he thinks a button cuff will be too tight. But he hasn’t worn a French cuff since the 1940s and thinks they’re old fashioned.”
“On the contrary,” I replied. “A French cuff is very fashionable. Personally, I think it offers a classy look to a man. Are you wearing a suit or a blazer?”
“Suit,” said Bucky, who seemed taller now that he wasn’t blocked by the customer service counter, taller than the last time he held me; broader than the last time I placed my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, sexier than the last time we made love.
“What colour of suit and what colour of shirt do you want?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t even have a suit yet.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“A formal event that he doesn’t want to go to because he doesn’t have a date,” smirked Sam. Trust him to be blunt.
“Sam,” glared Bucky. He turned to me, looking a little flustered. “Sorry, I really don’t know what I want. He’s right. I haven’t bought a suit since the 1940s and the one suit I had then was what I could afford.”
He looked a little lost, not that I could blame him. Outside of his missions, his wardrobe consisted of black jeans, blue jeans, long and short sleeve T-shirts, and Henley shirts, and those plain black combat boots that he wore constantly. He never wanted to go out anywhere that required a suit; always saying that he just wanted to stay in, as I was all the entertainment he needed. It was nice until it became stifling. The male clerk was helping another customer, and I suddenly didn’t want Bucky to leave. When we were together, I offered to help him buy a suit, but he always turned me down, saying he didn’t want to be my customer. But if this was the only way I could show him that he would be more than that then I was going to take my shot.
“Would you like me to dress you?” I blurted out.
“Excuse me?” His eyes opened wide. “What do you mean?”
“Sorry,” I smiled. “What I mean is, would you like me to help you find the right suit and shirt for this event?”
“I don’t want to take you away from your manager duties,” he answered, still looking unsure.
“Our store prides itself on its customer service,” I stated. “It would be my pleasure to help you find the right clothing for this event, Mr. Barnes.”
“She knows what she’s doing, Bucky,” said Sam, in a low voice. “I think you should listen to the lady.”
“Alright.” Bucky’s acceptance of my offer was said softly but loud enough for both me and Sam to hear.
I called up to the office to advise them I was helping a customer in men’s wear, taking measurements for a new suit so I wouldn’t be available for the next half hour. Then I pulled a card out of a drawer and wrote James Buchanan Barnes in the Customer Name portion.
“I’ll mark all of your measurements here,” I said. “That way, you won’t have to be measured again if you ever decide to buy another suit with us. It will also mark your preferences in suit style, shirt style, colours, and shoe size.”
“Shoe size?” he asked.
“You will need a pair of dress shoes,” I replied, looking down at his combat boots, all worn and scuffed. “Those won’t exactly complete the look you’re going for.”
“No, I guess not,” he agreed. “What do you need me to do?”
“Well, we can start with taking your height and weight measurement,” I began. “We have a scale here, unless you’re pretty sure of what you weigh.”
His eyes went soft. “6 feet even, 220 lbs., it doesn’t change.”
I wrote it down. “We need to take your body measurements; in one of the dressing rooms if you want privacy as you’ll have to take your jacket off and your Henley. We can choose a shirt first then wear that while I take the suit measurements, so the jacket fits properly.”
“Let’s do that,” he agreed, and waited for me to lead him to one of the larger dressing rooms.
He took his jacket off, then his Henley. Sam took them while he sat in a chair. I got the measuring tape and stood in front of Bucky, before wrapping it around his neck, taking the neck measurement.
“How are you?” he asked, in a low voice meant just for me.
“Managing,” I answered, getting a slight grin from him at my pun. “You?”
“Existing,” he replied, making me look up at him, and noticing how tired he seemed.
I took his arm measurement and wrote both measurements down on the card. “So, what type of shirt would you like? Classic fit, with room for your shoulders? Close fitting to display your physique? Button cuffs, French cuffs?”
“Why don’t you pick out some suitable choices, so I can see them on me?” he suggested.
Nodding, I left him and Sam there and went out to our selection, looking for some candidates. I picked white ones, thinking that if he wanted a coloured shirt, he could grab one with the same size and features. Taking them into the dressing room I was surprised to see he had his T-shirt off.
His physique never failed to impress me. His vibranium arm and shoulder had been made to match his right arm and shoulder, and the Wakandans had done a superb job of duplicating the musculature of that limb. As I removed the updated classic look shirt from its package, then removed the pins holding it together, he watched me, standing close enough so that I was aware of his scent. That mixture of citrus and sandalwood, from a cologne I gave to him on his birthday, brought back memories of burying my face into his neck during our more intimate moments, breathing in his unique essence. Fumbling with one of the pins, I stopped and took a breath, recenterring myself before handing the shirt to him. Without a word, he took it and put it on then buttoned it up. I handed him some cufflinks to go with the French cuffs. Taking the glove off of his left hand he attached that cufflink first, then the next one before standing in front of the mirror and taking in the fit.
“That’s almost perfect,” I said. “The length is enough to tuck in, without the threat of it coming out. The shoulders are snug enough to show your form but roomy enough for your muscles to move. The French cuffs give you a tailored look with enough room not to bind your wrists.”
Sam coughed and we both looked at him, at his timing. “I didn’t say anything.”
With the shirt on I began measuring Bucky for the suit jacket, starting with the chest, over arm, neck, and sleeve length. Then I continued with the shoulders, waistcoat length, jacket length, bicep, wrist and stomach. The next set of measurements were for the pants, waist, hips, thigh, knee, then the rise, running the tape from the front of waist down over the crotch and up to his back. We both glared at Sam who pointedly looked elsewhere for that measurement as well as the inseam measurement, before finishing off with the out seam.
“We can go look at the suit styles,” I said. “I think with your broad shoulders and slim waist that you should stick with Hugo Boss or a Calvin Klein suit. They’ll need minimal tailoring to be fitted properly. You can leave the dress shirt on, while you try the jacket on the sales floor.”
Both men came out and I showed them the suits, not surprised when Bucky gravitated towards the black ones. Colour was hard for him, as he always thought it made him too visible. The arm already did that, in his opinion. He tried on several jackets in his size before he found one that he liked, nodding his head as he looked at himself in the mirror on the floor. I found his waist size in the matching slacks and draped them over my arm.
“Ties?” I asked, walking towards our display. “You have your choice of plain, patterned, paisley, stripes.”
“Plain, black,” stated Bucky. “Could I try a black shirt as well?”
As much as I wanted him to experiment a little, I also knew he would look stunning in a monochrome suit ensemble of black. I found a black shirt to match the white one he wore then took them back to the dressing room. While he put them on, Sam came with me to the shoe department to find a pair of shoes. As soon as we were some distance away, he stopped and hugged me.
“How are you?” His eyes were full of concern. “This must be hard for you.”
I shrugged. “I miss him, even with all of his quirks. He can’t just show up here unannounced. Why is he really here? He wouldn’t even step foot into the store before even though I offered to help him find clothes many times.”
“I know.” He looked back towards the men’s wear department. “This formal event is mandatory for him. We’re going to the White House to receive a commendation and attend a banquet. It’s made his anxiety level go up through the roof. You always had a way to keep him level. It was my idea to come here and hopefully get your help. The work boots still had to be returned. He just bought them on impulse when he came here by himself the first time to ask for your help but couldn’t find you.”
I began walking to the shoe department; suddenly angered that Bucky was only here so I could make him feel better. Sam hurried after me.
“Seriously? You thought I could give him an emergency psychological bandage to get him through an anxiety episode? You’re better than that, Sam.”
“He needs you. He’s pretty lost without you.”
I could feel the need to cry bubbling up from my stomach and stopped at a display of men’s shoes, plain black Oxfords. Picking up a pair I held them up to Sam.
“What do you think? He’s going to look great in the suit and these will be just the thing to finish it off.”
“Yeah, he’ll like them,” replied Sam. “Size 12.”
I went in back to find the shoe, taking the moment to compose myself before coming out with the box. We began walking back to men’s wear when Sam stopped me again. With a sigh I looked at him, feeling almost at the end of my tether.
“Tell me the truth, are you happier without him?”
What an unfair question to ask. I wasn’t happy. I was miserable but I just didn’t know if I had it in me to put up with everything else. The moodiness, the lack of communication, the emotional withdrawal that happened around every anniversary of his fall, the possessiveness … the good things we had never seemed to outweigh the negative. Without even answering Sam knew what I would say, and he touched my arm, then nodded his head sadly. As we stepped into the dressing room Bucky stood there in the suit, wearing the black shirt, with the black tie, and the black pocket square poking out of the chest pocket. I took the shoes out of the box, doing up the laces, then kneeled in front of Bucky, helping him on with the shoes, before pinning the length of the trousers to fit the shoes and stepping back to look at the almost finished product.
“There you go,” I said. “You look great.”
“I feel good,” he replied. “Thank you.” His eyes flickered to Sam.
“You do look good,” said his friend. “The all-black look suits you.”
“I’ll take it,” said Bucky. “All of it, and the white shirt as well, with a tie of your choice. Just so I have two looks.”
“I’ll pick something out while you get changed,” I said. “Then I’ll meet you at the desk. The slacks can be left here for our tailor to shorten. They’ll be ready in two days.”
I found a tie, a paisley design, black with silver and gold accents, that matched the colours of his vibranium arm. There was even a pocket square to match, and I tossed that on the pile. I entered the information of the suit on the card. It would be entered into our database so that anyone could help him find what he needed in the future.
Sam came out with the suit, shirts and shoes, placing them on the desk. Bucky came out a few moments later, seeming a little more withdrawn. After entering the work order for the slacks, I handed him a claim ticket. It seemed odd that in this digital age we still used paper claim tickets, but it was what our customers liked, as part of the service. I tallied up the total, presenting the amount to Bucky, and he didn’t bat an eye as he pulled a black credit card out of his wallet. It seemed the superhero business had finally started paying off. As he entered the code on the terminal, I placed the suit jacket and shirts into a suit bag, the shoes and ties in a paper shopping bag. Then the receipt was handed over, and I looked at him, wanting to say something other than my usual customer service ramble.
“You should launder the shirts before you wear them, just so they’re softer on your skin,” I suggested. “In the shoe department are some protective sprays that will help keep them looking good in wet weather. You can also polish them with regular shoe polish.” Those blue eyes met mine, boring into me, maybe for the last time. “I hope your event goes well. You’ll look great and you’ll be fine.”
“Thank you for your help,” he smiled softly, seemingly accepting that it was over.
He gathered up his bags and stood awkwardly for a moment before turning away. This time he didn’t look back.
Part 2>>
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