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prettygirl-gabi · 2 days ago

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That Was For You

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: communicating in more ways than one

A/N: Missing P in a uconn jersey hours- also was requested an awhile back!!!

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @iwasbored-okay

There’s a certain kind of magic in Gampel Pavilion when it’s game night—loud, electric, pulsing with energy. But sometimes, that kind of magic is just too much.

Especially for a little girl with custom hearing aids and a soft spot for my girlfriend, and friends.

“Too loud,” JaNae signed to me with a tiny scrunch of her nose, pulling out her hearing aids and placing them gently in my hand.

I nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Okay, baby. I’ll tell you what’s happening, okay?”

She nodded and tucked herself into my side, watching the warmups intently.

Paige was already sprinting through layup lines, laughing with Jana, Azzi, Ash, and KK. My eyes tracked her as always—my body calm, my heart wild.

And when she caught my eye, she winked.

Then she noticed JaNae on my lap. No hearing aids.

The next sequence happened slowly. Paige made a beeline for us, crouching just past the court line with a big smile on her face.

She pointed to JaNae and signed, slowly, Hi, Jae.

JaNae perked up immediately.

I watched, stunned and a little emotional, as Paige stumbled through the alphabet with her fingers, trying to spell Paige even though she knew JaNae already had a sign name for her—just the “P” flicked by her heart.

“I’ve been practicing,” Paige said sheepishly to me out loud while still signing the words she could.

My eyes burned. “You didn’t tell me.”

She smiled. “I wanted to surprise you. Azzi and KK have been practicing with me. Coach even brought in someone last week to start teaching us better.”

I couldn’t say anything at first, just leaned in to kiss her sweat-damp cheek. JaNae watched us with giddy interest, then looked back to Paige and signed: Play good.

Paige grinned and signed back: For you.

A month passed, and I noticed the changes almost immediately. Paige and her teammates weren’t just practicing—they were learning. Like, really learning.

They had weekly lessons with a local interpreter.

Paige would send me videos at night of her signing to the mirror, messing up, and then nailing it the second time.

The first time JaNae saw KK sign unicorn correctly during a FaceTime, she screamed so loud she almost broke the phone speaker.

And then came game day.

Gampel was packed. JaNae had her favorite plushie—a mini Husky—tucked under one arm and her other hand gripped mine tight.

She wore a custom “Bueckers 5” jersey with sparkly letters and had her little hoodie pulled up.

Just before warmups, the noise hit a pitch and she tapped my shoulder, frowning.

Too loud, she signed again.

I nodded and gently took the hearing aids from her. “Wanna still watch?”

Yes, she signed, firm.

Then Paige ran over. Behind her came Azzi and KK.

Even Sarah and Morgan followed close behind.

Hi, JaNae, they all signed in near unison.

JaNae beamed.

Dimples deep.

Tiny hands fluttering excitedly.

KK even asked, You okay?

I nearly cried.

Azzi crouched beside the seats to ask what color JaNae’s plushie was. JaNae, all grins, signed grey. Azzi laughed and told her cool.

Sarah had signed, how are the hot-ducks? But slowed down and tried once more signing, how are the hot-dogs.

JaNae signed, really good. thank you for asking.

Somehow Morgan was the only one that didn’t mess on what she wanted to say in sign which was I love your shoes, really sparkly.

JaNae of course was in so much shock she couldn’t respond.

When the buzzer called them back, Paige blew us both a kiss and whispered in my ear, “Remember the sign?”

I smirked. “Chest to you. Got it.”

She nodded. “She’s gonna love it.”

The game was a masterpiece. Paige was electric—fluid, confident, absolutely in her bag. She scored, dished dimes, dove for loose balls like it was a championship.

And when she hit her career high—a wild spin move into a three-point shot that blew the roof off the Pavilion—she didn’t celebrate with her team right away.

She turned toward the court-side seats. Toward us.

And she did it.

I love you—the hand sign. Then she pressed her fingers to her chest. Then pointed straight at JaNae.

“That was for you,” I signed to JaNae as her eyes widened.

She screamed without sound, clapping her hands fast, her eyes lighting up like Christmas. People turned to look at her, some even clapping along.

Paige’s POV

Post-game, I was still buzzed from adrenaline when the press conference started. Azzi was beside me, stretching her legs. KK had a sports drink balanced between her knees, sipping and smiling.

Then a reporter raised their hand. “For Paige, Azzi, and KK—there’s been a lot of buzz on social media about the three of you and the team learning ASL. Can you talk a little about that experience and what prompted it?”

I smiled immediately. “Yeah, absolutely. So, my girlfriend’s niece, JaNae, is deaf. She comes to a lot of games, and sometimes it gets too loud for her hearing aids. One game, I saw her take them off and just sit in Y/N’s lap while she signed the whole game to her.”

I paused. “We realized if JaNae was going to be around us—and we wanted her to be—we needed to do better. So we started taking lessons.”

Azzi chimed in. “It’s honestly been super humbling. It’s like learning a whole new language. You mess up, but then you see JaNae’s face when you get it right and… it’s worth every second.”

KK nodded. “We’ve got flashcards in the locker room. We quiz each other before games. It’s serious.”

A follow-up came fast. “Could the three of you sign a message for the fans watching at home?”

I blinked. “Uhhh… I mean we could… but only if we can get some help to make sure we don’t mess it up.”

I turned to the media coordinator. “Can someone get Y/N and JaNae? They’re just outside.”

Minutes later, JaNae burst into the room like a little storm cloud of energy. Y/N trailed behind, beaming.

JaNae scrambled up beside me and whispered, “Hi, Paigey.”

I grinned, and signed. “Wanna help us sign a message to the fans?”

She nodded fiercely.

The cameras rolled as we all signed Thank you for supporting us. Go Huskies!

JaNae giggled halfway through and gently turned to Azzi. “You did support wrong,” she signed, giggling.

Azzi gasped dramatically. “Not again!”

The room erupted in laughter.

“Okay,” KK said, leaning down, “Can you show us again?”

JaNae took all three of our hands and guided them through the motion. Then she turned to the camera and added her own message: My name is JaNae. Go Huskies!

Dead.

Everyone was dead.

Cameras flashing.

Phones out.

She stole the whole press conference.

After getting dinner and heading back to my place, JaNae finally put her hearing aids back in.

The quiet peace was a huge change from the arena buzz, and she curled up in the beanbag with her plushie.

“Paigey,” she said, voice small but clear. “You were really good.”

I sat down next to her and signed slowly, still speaking. “Thank you. I did it for you.”

She giggled, grabbing my hand. “I saw! You remembered our sign!”

“Of course I did,” I said, kissing her forehead. “It was our secret.”

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes soft. “She wouldn’t shut up about it once you went to the back for press.”

JaNae stuck her tongue out. “Because it was the best.”

I looked at her seriously. “Hey. I know sometimes the noise is hard. But we’ll always figure out ways to talk to you, okay? Even if you don’t want to wear those.”

She blinked at me for a moment, then leaned forward and hugged me.

And when I looked up at Y/N, she mouthed, I love you.

I signed it back.

And I meant it with everything in me.

Y/N’s POV

I was already pulling out my phone the moment JaNae scooted back onto the beanbag, still chattering to Paige in that quiet way she always did after a long, loud day.

Her voice was soft but sure now.

Confident.

They were still signing along with their words, Paige correcting herself mid-sentence when JaNae pointed something out with that tiny furrow in her brow. And then they both started laughing.

I hit record, trying to stay quiet as I caught the moment.

Paige was sprawled out beside her like she belonged here.

In our little living room.

In JaNae’s world.

She didn’t rush, didn’t skip signs, even if she stumbled or looked to JaNae for help.

She stayed patient, playful, present.

After a minute, JaNae turned and flashed me a thumbs-up, then dramatically whispered, “Tell the internet I’m her coach.”

I snorted, tears threatening again. Typical JaNae.

By the time I posted the video to my story and feed, my heart was full in ways I hadn’t expected when the day started.

Caption:

my two fav girls bonding even more than they already do… definitely not crying… 🏀& 💫= ♾️

Within minutes, the comments were flooding in.

Azzi: teach me how to say “icon” in sign please

Nika: this better be on SportsCenter

And Paige? She reposted it to her story with the caption:

“All for you, Coach JaNae.”

God, I really loved that girl.

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-Thank You For Reading!💚💙

-prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 days ago

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Declassified [3] - Working Overtime

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 Please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: It's a skill to remain calm in stressful situations.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of sex, explicit language

Word Count: 4137 (why is each chapter getting longer, ✨help✨)

Masterlist

“Do you ever see yourself in something like this?”

You pressed the phone between your ear and your shoulder while waiting for the assistant to put you through, and shoved the mini sandwich into your mouth to chew vigorously. It was Sam’s nephew AJ’s birthday party, and of course Bucky was here, which meant that you and his team were here as well. You weren’t complaining; you admired Sam, Sarah was so lovely, and Cass and AJ were probably the sweetest kids you’d ever met.

The only issue was that Bucky had cleared out his whole day so now you had to move his schedule on top of the meetings he already had. You had started working at 5 a.m. today, already had four Red Bulls and three cups of coffee on an empty stomach, so needless to say you were starving while your heart tried to climb out of your chest.

And for the record, your heartbeat had nothing to do with the fact that for the last half an hour, you were trying to ignore just how good Bucky was with kids, letting them hang from his vibranium arm to entertain them. You stole a look at him as he pretended to run from the kids with water guns, making them giggle excitedly as they went after him.

“Um….” You trailed off and swallowed your bite, dragging your gaze from Bucky to grab another mini sandwich. “I don’t remember the last time I watered the cactus on my desk. I don’t think I’d be very successful with—hi Ms. Miller! Thank you so much for agreeing to take my call, I know how busy you are.”

Kelsey smiled when Bucky grabbed AJ to place him on his shoulders with a monster roar, AJ’s laugh echoing in the garden as they started chasing Cass together.

“Is this what baby fever is?” Kelsey wondered out loud and you covered your other ear so that you could focus.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes would really appreciate it if we could move it to another time—absolutely, Friday 3 pm works for us. It’s a family thing—yes, it’s Captain America’s family but you know how close Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes are, his family is Mr. Barnes’ family too. Mm hm. Thank you so much again, have a wonderful day!”

You hung up and popped the mini sandwich in your mouth, then eyed the cup in Kelsey’s hand.

“Is there caffeine in that?”

Kelsey held it out of your reach. “It’s mine, go get your own from the kitchen.”

“Sharing is caring—”

“I don’t share my caffeine,” she told you and you heaved a sigh, then made your way to the kitchen, your eyes still glued to the phone. Sarah and her friend Emily whom you had met before were in the kitchen and you smiled at them.

“Hi.”

“Hi there,” Sarah said. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, I just came to see if there’s any coffee— just one moment please,” you said and pressed your thumb on the screen to send Paul a voice mail. “Paul! Hey, I talked to Miller, she’s fine with Friday 3 pm, which means you need to move the interview to 4:30 at least. You can contact Ryan, he’s on good terms with Caleb and has a soft spot for Bucky, he should be fine with it. If he’s not available, I’ll make a phone call to Tim, but you need to let me know in half, okay?”

You sent the voicemail and sent a quick text to Caleb, then lifted your head from your phone to look up at Sarah.

“Sorry. Um—I was wondering if there’s any coffee left, please?”

“Sure thing,” Sarah said with a small smile and filled a cup for you, then handed it to you.

“You’re an angel,” you said and your phone buzzed in your hand. You took a look at the text, then typed in your response while Sarah tilted her head to the right.

“You look a little jittery.”

“Oh yeah, I had four Red Bulls and this is my fourth cup of coffee,” you said and Emily raised her brows.

“It’s barely noon.”

“I started the day at 5 am,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee and Sarah shook her head.

“You need to take a break.”

“I’ll take a break when we put Bucky in DC,” you said. “Oh fuck. That reminds me, I still haven’t asked Kelsey for the latest poll—”

“I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever seen you without your phone in your hand,” Sarah mused and you sent a text to Kelsey, then looked up from your phone.

“Hm? Oh!” You let out a laugh. “I don’t remember either, to be honest with you. I hang onto this thing halfway through sex.”

Sarah and Emily exchanged glances and you made a face.

“Sorry,” you said. “TMI. I just, I barely have friends outside work and we talk about everything so it became a habit. I’ll need to take classes like that one Julia Roberts movie, did you guys watch that one? It was—”

“You have your phone in hand during sex?”

“Halfway through, and it’s not that weird,” you said with a nervous laugh. “My boyfriend works like 100 hours a week, so we managed to minimize the time while maximizing the effect. It takes us like 5 minutes, and then we both check our emails.”

“Oh you poor thing...”

“No, I’m totally fine with it!” you said in a rush. “It’s a great arrangement because, I mean obviously if it’s sex vs work, it’ll be work. Sex can wait, work just doesn’t.”

“I barely know you, but I know that you need to dump that man,” Emily said. “I bet I can find someone for you.”

“Don’t worry, I already have someone in mind for her,” Sarah muttered to her with a knowing smile and you scoffed.

“No no, thank you so much,” you said. “Max and I have been together for years and like I said, our expectations match.”

“Don’t get me wrong but if you’re this tense every day, those five minutes aren’t doing much,” Emily pointed out and you took a deep breath.

“I’m a tense person in general,” you said. “Has nothing to do with anyone. I lost spelling bee when I was in first grade and then it turned me into this as a grown up.”

“Can I see your phone?” Sarah asked and you handed it to her, but your eyes widened when she put it in her pocket.

“Sarah?”

“Go socialize.”

“What?” you exclaimed. “No no no, you don’t understand, I need my phone—”

“I’ll give it back to you after half an hour. Go eat something, drink something healthy,” she said, taking the coffee cup from your hand, making you gasp. “There’s orange juice. Take some time for yourself, and I’ll give it back to you.”

“But…” you started but she walked out of the kitchen with Emily and you threw your head back, then rushed after her.

“Sarah! Sarah I can’t just go cold turkey, I will have withdra—”

“What is going on?” Bucky stopped you before you could walk past him and you looked up at him, then at Sarah who stepped out of the hallway into the garden. Your brows pinched together in frustration and you let out a breath, fanning yourself with one hand.

“I think I’m having withdrawals.”

“Over what?”

“My phone, Sarah took my phone!”

Bucky frowned. “Why?”

“Because I hold it while I have sex,” you said. “Do you think you can get it from her?”

He gawked at you.

“You hold your phone while—”

“Okay, everyone needs to stop making that such a big deal!” you snapped. “It’s more of an emotional support thing, it’s not like I check my emails during sex, I check them right after!”

“Alright, let’s just…” Bucky gently steered you out of the hallway. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, still fanning yourself. “Is this how alcoholic people feel?”

“I don’t think they feel it within the first minute, Birdie,” Bucky said and you rubbed at your eyes.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“No.”

“But listen, what if—” You pointed at him. “What if something goes wrong at work?”

He looked almost amused. “I’m standing right here,” he told you. “What would go wrong?”

“Your dick pics come out.”

“Impossible,” he said and grabbed a glass to put it in your hand. “Drink this.”

You looked down at the clear liquid, then shook your head.

“I can’t drink vodka, Bucky, it’s AJ’s birthday and I’m literally working—”

“It’s water,” Bucky deadpanned and you paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders and took a huge sip.

“Emily said I look tense,” you said, barely aware of the pout on your lips. “Do you think I look tense?”

“Absolutely.”

“I don’t look tense!” You hissed through your teeth and motioned at Sam who approached you and Bucky. “Let’s ask Sam, he’ll be honest. Sam, do I look tense?”

“I’ve never seen you not tense.”

Bucky let out a chuckle at the look of betrayal on your face. “Told you.”

“Sam, can I borrow your phone?”

“Do not give her your phone,” Bucky said and Sam’s eyes darted between you.

“Do I want to know what’s going on?”

“Sarah took my phone because for some reason she thinks I’m tense.”

“And how much caffeine is in your system right now?” Sam asked and you scoffed, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

“Four Red Bulls, three and a half cups of coffee. I’m totally fine.”

Sam turned to Bucky. “If you keep doing this to her—”

“I swear on my ma’s grave that I’m not doing anything,” Bucky said and you had to bite back your smile at the old Brooklyn accent that slipped through. “She refuses to listen to me. I sent her out of the office three times the other day so that she could take the rest of the day off, and each time she flat out said no and went back to her desk.”

“I was in the middle of going over your speech for the press,” you defended yourself. “I wasn’t going to just go home.”

“At least this way I can keep an eye on her,” Bucky told Sam while you sipped your water, looking up at him.

Bucky in casual clothes never failed to impress you. Yes, he could pull off a suit like no one else, but the fact that he could look this handsome with little to no effort, just with a t-shirt, leather jacket and jeans, had to be studied at schools in your opinion.

You opened your mouth to speak but as if on cue, sirens started going off and you frowned.

“Is that in my head or does anyone else hear that?”

Everyone’s phones started beeping and vibrating, multiple ambulances and police cars wheezing by, and both Bucky and Sam checked their phones while parents went to their children to get them inside.

“There’s been an attack,” Sam said, his eyes darting on the lines on his screen and Bucky nodded, his jaw tightening.

“Let’s go.”

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed while Sam ran to Sarah who was assuring Cass and AJ that everything was fine despite the worried look on her beautiful face. “Bucky no, it could be dangerous—”

He was already walking away from you. “Stay with Sarah.”

“But—”

“Stay with Sarah!” His tone held none of the softness it usually had for you, instead it sounded like an order, making you furrow your brows. The stern light in his eyes melted away when he took in your puzzled expression and he licked his lips, then stepped closer to you.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice low. “I just need to know you’re safe, alright?”

“Buck, let's go!” Sam called out as he grabbed his shield and Bucky took off his leather jacket, his vibranium arm gleaming under the sun before they both ran out of the garden in the direction of sirens.

You could swear the whole garden was spinning around you as you stared at the road, then turned your head when someone gently touched your arm.

“Here.” Sarah handed you your phone. “Call your boyfriend, I’m sure he’s worried about you.”

“Thanks,” you said, fear twisting your stomach. “Sarah, he’ll—Bucky will be fine, right?”

Sarah gave you a calm smile and squeezed your arm in an assuring manner.

“I think you’re forgetting what he used to do before he got into politics,” she told you. “This is what he and Sam do best. They save people.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and nodded your head, blinking back the tears.

“If he—” you started but stopped talking when your phone started buzzing in your hand, Max’s name flashing on the screen. “I’ll be right back.”

You walked away from her and answered the phone. “Max?”

“Babe, hey. You okay?”

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah, I’m at Sarah’s house. You?”

“At work,” he said. “Can you see anything from there?”

You walked to the fences, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “Do you know what’s happening?”

“They’re saying there are multiple people injured, they closed down a street,” Max said. “Do you want me to pick you up after I’m done?”

“No, stay where you are,” you said. “Don’t go outside until it’s clear out—” You took a look at the screen when your phone beeped. “My mom is calling, I’ll text you.”

“Okay, see you later,” he said and you hung up, then answered the call.

“Mom?”

“Oh thank God, your father and I have been so worried!” Your mother’s voice reached you. “Are you okay, sweetheart? You’re on speaker by the way.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, then nodded as if she could see you.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah I’m safe.”

“See, this is why I do not want you in New York,” your father said. “That place is a goddamn madhouse, something happens every day.”

You closed your eyes, familiar anxiety churning your insides.

“I mean honestly honey, what is wrong with here? Why did you have to move there?”

“Sweetheart, while I was on my retreat, I talked to Leah. Do you remember Leah?”

You rubbed your temples. “Mom...”

“Well you see, she says she can add you to the list for the next one when you—”

“I’m not going to go up on a mountain to listen to my inner thoughts and scream at the sky around bonfire, mom,” you cut her off and she heaved a sigh.

“But it’d be good for you! You are too tense.”

“What’s with everyone and saying I’m tense?” you asked, your voice going high-pitched. “I’m so relaxed!”

Fine, maybe screaming into a phone didn’t exactly prove that you were relaxed.

“Your boy seems to be doing well in the polls so far by the way,” your father commented. “Too much idealism, that one. DC isn’t exactly New York, did you tell him that they will eat him alive the moment he steps a foot in that congress?”

“He’s been around for over a century and broke through decades of brainwashing,” you said, your voice defensive for some reason. “I’d say he can handle a couple of politicians.”

“Oh do not talk about politics around me!” your mother said. “You know what it does to my nerves—Hannah? Hannah can you get me a Xanax please?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I uh….I gotta go guys, it’s work,” you said. “I’ll call you though, love you.”

You hung up before they could say anything else, and Kelsey grabbed your arm, waving the phone in your face.

“Bucky!”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Is he okay?”

“Yes and the internet is going crazy,” Kelsey said and you took a look at the screen, a shaky recording of Bucky stopping a huge chunk of a wall from falling on a small girl while Sam pulled an elderly man out of the car, firefighters and medics running around. You let out a breath as you watched Bucky carry the small girl to her mother, then go back to rip the door off a bus to help the people trapped inside.

“Holy shit,” Kelsey muttered. “I think he just won the election.”

Somehow, the election had become the last thing in your mind as you watched Bucky on the screen, a warmth dripping inside your chest but you swallowed thickly, then tried to smile.

“Right,” you rasped out. “Yeah. It’s good optics. Or something.”

It was indeed an attack but thankfully, there were no casualties. People were lucky that Bucky and Sam moved as quickly as they did, and apparently all the news channels and people on the internet agreed with you.

And Kelsey was right.

There were multiple videos of Bucky saving people all over the internet, and you were sure you had read thousands of comments by now. After things got calmer, you had decided to go back into the office to get your mind off things and throw yourself in work, but needless to say, it wasn’t working.

At least your phone was back in your hand.

And you were sitting on the office floor.

You sniffed and reached out to put another paper on the floor, then changed it with the one on its right. You scribbled a footnote at the bottom of the page, still holding your phone tightly in your other hand, but your head shot up when you hear the door open and someone stepped into the bullpen.

And as if on cue, your heart started beating in your throat.

“Hey,” you managed to rasp out and he tilted his head.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“I ran out of space on my desk,” you said. “And I’m trying to decide on the order of these meetings, so…”

Bucky lingered in his spot only for a moment like he was trying to figure out how to react, then cleared his throat and approached you to sit on the floor as well.

“You don’t want to be home after today?”

“I’m fine, Max is probably working anyway.”

“Birdie—”

“But hey, you’re back,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “From your—your superhero stuff. Kels has a point, you’ve just won the election.”

From the clueless look on his face, it was clear that Bucky had not thought about that.

“What?”

“You haven’t checked social media?”

“You know I don’t do that.”

“Well, everyone is impressed with your heroic actions, a lot of journalist want to—”

“It wasn’t a heroic action, it’s the least I could do.”

“That makes it even more heroic.”

“And I’m not going to use it to win the election.”

“All your opponents would.”

“I don’t care.” Bucky shook his head. “No one should use helping the people in need as some sort of PR bullshit. It’s what everyone should do.”

“I figured you’d say that,” you murmured. “Well, it doesn’t matter if you want to use it or not, people are all over it. I think I watched like a thousand thirst traps of you since the afternoon.”

“What’s a thirst trap?”

You bit back a smile and grabbed a paper on the floor, then put it on top of the pile.

“That leaves out this press release then,” you muttered. “You should still talk to a journalist we trust, about what happened.”

“No.”

“Bucky, there’s nothing wrong with addressing—”

“They will turn it into a PR stunt if I do,” he said. “No.”

You heaved a sigh and grabbed the file on your left to shuffle through it, taking out a couple of pages as you sniffled again. His eyes found the crumpled tissue beside you, his gaze softening while you nibbled on your lip, forcing yourself to focus.

“Are you okay?”

The nod of your head wasn’t even convincing to you, so you weren’t really surprised that he didn’t believe you. You dared steal a look at him, your cheeks warming when you did so you lowered your glances to the phone in your hand, your nail pushing at the screen protector.

“Were you scared?”

You could feel the tears threatening to burn your eyes so you blinked fast, pursing your lips and shaking your head.

“Does your family know you’re safe?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “They called.”

“That’s good,” he said gently, like he was talking to a skittish animal. “They must��ve been relieved, huh?”

“I think so.”

“They’re okay? Back home?”

“Okay is a stretch but they’re—they’re them, I guess,” you said with a small laugh. “My dad and I fight every time we talk, and my mom can’t handle it. She can’t handle much, to be honest. That’s why she keeps going on these spiritual retreats and popping Xanax like candy.”

Bucky hissed in a breath. “Ouch. Sorry.”

You waved a hand in the air.

“Don’t be, it’s expected,” you said. “It’s such a cliché. How does that old song go? My daddy’s rich, my ma is good lookin’.”

His head shot up in excitement, a hopeful light glimmering in his eyes and the sight was so sweet that you couldn’t help but smile, your stomach doing a happy flip.

This right there, this was Bucky.

Bucky back in the 1940s, the guy who you saw in black and white pictures with the devilish charm and carefree grin, this was him.

“You listen to Billie Holliday?” he asked and you nodded your head fervently, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah! And Ella Fitzgerald too!” you said, pride laced in your tone. “I know all their songs. My grandfather had this huge collection, he had a bunch of signed records too, he displayed them on—”

“Babe?” Max’s voice cut through your rant and you turned your head, a frown pinching your brows together. You grabbed the papers and Bucky stood up, then offered you his hand to help you up. A warmth shot from your fingertips to your whole body the moment you placed your hand in his, your eyes locked in his, your heart leaping but you forced yourself to pull your hand back as the footsteps came closer before Max appeared in the doorway.

“Max?” you asked, trying to ignore the tingling in your hand. “What are you doing here?”

“You mentioned you’d be here, and I figured I could pick you up after today,” he said. “It’s been a weird day. I talked to your mom, she’s very worried.”

Right.

That was normal. He was your boyfriend after all, and you had no business feeling this warm and fuzzy around Bucky, who was your boss and also was not, in fact, your boyfriend.

Max shot you a look before giving a tight lipped smile to Bucky and you snapped out of your daze, then cleared your throat.

“Right. Um—Max, this is Bucky. And Bucky, this is Max,” you said. “My boyfriend whom I—whom I love very much.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

You had no idea why you felt the need to add that detail. Discomfort churned your stomach as soon as the words left your mouth but you swallowed the lump in your throat, plastering a lovesick smile on your face and grasping Max’s upper arm to squeeze it gently. Bucky held your gaze in his, his expression unreadable as he turned to Max who held out his hand.

“Hello Mr. Barnes,” Max said as Bucky shook his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise.”

“We should go,” you said before Max could say anything else. “It’s been a weird day, like you said. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky?”

“What’s the rush?” Max asked with a laugh and you shook your head, grabbing your purse and the files off the desk.

“No rush, just want to be home.”

And have an existential crisis.

“But—”

“Have a nice night Bucky!” you chirped as you all but dragged Max out of the bullpen, stepped outside and made your way to the car. Max got on the driver’s seat while you buckled your seatbelt on the passenger seat, and he turned to you.

“That was weird,” he commented. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nibbled on your lip, turning your phone in your hand as he started the car, then waved a hand in front of your eyes.

“Babe?”

You took a deep breath, then forced yourself to smile.

“Sure,” you said and slipped a little to lean your knees on the dashboard, your hand still warm with Bucky’s touch. “I’m fine. Just a long day.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #congressman barnes #congressman bucky #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#congressman bucky barnes #congressman!bucky #congressman!bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic

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riddleswhcre · 1 day ago

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hiii i love ur fics so much!! the PASSION in ur writing is always sooo good omg

could u possibly make a fic where husband!joel comes home from a late patrol to find the reader sleeping (maybe in something sexy like a nightie and stockings) and he can’t help but kiss her lips and neck and chest bc he just finds her so pretty and addicting and she like wakes up from his kisses and they’re both just so lovey dovey and begin to make out and the smut ensues from there? 🥹 aaa i just adore fics where joel and the reader are married, i’m so sure he’d be such a good husband hehehe

oh gosh i just realized how long this is aaa my apologies — i just had a vision and needed to get it down somewhere!! 🥲 pls absolutely feel free to remove or alter anything if you’d likeeee

────۶ৎ late patrol

husband!joel comes home late from patrol to find you fast asleep in a lil nightie. he just can’t help himself — soft kisses turn into slow touches, sleepy makeouts, and a filthy, love-drunk fuck.

warnings: smut , soft cnc/somnophilia, cockwarming, married sex, praise, older!joel.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: this gorgeous ask that made me instantly feral. thank you for the love omg and YES joel would be the best husband ever.

ᖭ༏ᖫ

he comes in late, boots heavy on the floorboards, the door creakin soft behind him. the house is quiet, save for the tick of the clock and the distant hum of the wind outside. joel shrugs off his jacket, muscles aching from the patrol, but his eyes are drawn to the bedroom door, slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling out.

he pushes it open, and there you are — sprawled on the bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a golden hue over your skin. you're asleep, breathing steady, lips parted just so. the nightie you're wearing clings to your curves, the lace barely covering your thighs, stockings hugging your legs in a way that makes his mouth go dry.

joel swallows hard, stepping closer. he kneels by the bed, rough fingers reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. you stir slightly, but don't wake. he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, then your neck, trailing down to the swell of your chest. his hand slides up your thigh, fingers teasing the edge of your stocking.

"darlin'," he murmurs, voice thick with desire, "you look so damn pretty like this."

you shift, a soft moan escaping your lips as you begin to wake. your eyes flutter open, meeting his, and a sleepy smile spreads across your face.

"joel?" you whisper, voice husky.

"yeah, baby. it's me."

he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, hungry kiss. his hands roam your body, exploring every inch, as if trying to memorise you all over again. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your bodies pressed together, heat radiating between you.

"i missed you," you breathe against his lips.

"i missed you too, sweetheart."

his hand slides between your legs, fingers finding you already wet and ready. he groans, the sound low and guttural, as he positions himself at your entrance.

"you want this?" he asks, eyes searching yours.

"yes," you nod, "please."

he pushes in slowly, filling you completely, the stretch making you gasp. he sets a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. the room is filled with the sounds of your moans, the slap of skin against skin, and the creak of the bed.

"fuck, you feel so good," he growls, "so tight, so perfect."

you cling to him, nails digging into his back, as the pleasure builds. he leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"joel," you cry out, "i'm close."

"me too, baby. cum with me."

with a few more thrusts, you both reach your peak, bodies trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over you. he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

"i love you," he whispers.

"i love you too," you reply, snuggling closer.

ᖭ༏ᖫ

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

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postredevainilla · 17 hours ago

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omg..more dilf!satoru gojo x collegestudent!freader please??

thank GOD someones on board with me on this 🙏

was thinking about dilf!satoru making you move in with him and yuuji, definitely just bc his son needs extra attention and totallyyy not because its all part of his plan to make you into a barely-20-something-year-old housewife.

cw: dubcon undertones, age/power imbalance, coercion, emotional manipulation, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, heavy degradation, possessiveness, choking, parental substitution, implied loss of autonomy, reader is 20 and is called "kid", satoru is a gross dirtbag in his mid-thirties PLS read at your own discretion

after noticing how often you’re already at his house and how close you’ve grown to yuuji, satoru decides to make his move. he approaches you with a calculated offer: move in full-time as yuuji’s live-in caregiver. he frames it as practical—more hours, free room and board, and extra pay to help you finish school (yeah right). you hesitate at first, but the offer makes too much sense to ignore. the stability, the convenience, and the growing emotional connection to the household all wear you down. eventually, you agrees. satoru is smugly satisfied—this was his plan from the start. he’s one step closer to keeping you exactly where he wants you, and you continue to fail to see it.

the arrangement is fine until one morning, over breakfast, yuuji looks up at you with sleepy eyes and calls you mommy. you laugh it off, but satoru doesn’t. his smile sharpens as he sips his coffee, watching you like he’s already claimed you.

later, while yuuji’s occupied with cartoons, you’re in the kitchen rinsing dishes, trying not to overthink it. but then satoru is there again, close—too close. he leans against the counter, his voice low and deliberate.

"he's right, you know," he says, sipping his coffee nonchalantly. "you are his mother now. in every way that counts."

his eyes rake over you, a possessive gleam in their icy blue depths. you feel a shiver run down your spine, a mix of fear and dark anticipation.

his hands grip your hips, pulling you back against his hard body. you can feel his erection pressing into your ass, already thick and ready.

"i own you now," he murmurs through a sadistic grin, his lips brushing your ear. "this body, this cunt, this womb...all mine to use as i please."

his hands move to your stomach, rubbing circles over the flat expanse. "gonna breed you over and over, kid," he groans, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. "fill this belly with my child until you're big and round with it."

you whimper at his words, a twisted mix of fear and desire. the thought of carrying his baby, of being bred like some animal, it should repulse you. but instead, it only makes your pussy clench with need.

satoru seems to sense your submission, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in harsh circles. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand.

"beg for it," he demands, his voice rough with lust. "beg me to breed you, to pump you full of cum until it's dripping down your thighs."

his other hand moves to your breast, groping the soft flesh through your shirt. he pinches your nipple hard, sending jolts of painful pleasure straight to your core.

"please, satoru," you moan, too far gone to care about the degradation. "please breed me, fill me with your baby. i.. i need it."

he chuckles darkly, pleased with your submission. "good girl," he praises, ripping your pants down in one brutal tug. "gonna give you what you need."

with one hard thrust, he's inside you, stretching you open around his thick shaft. you cry out at the sudden intrusion, your nails digging into the countertop.

"fuck, you're still so tight," he groans, pulling out and slamming back in. "gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else."

he sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with animalistic fervor. the kitchen fills with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"take it, kid," satoru snarls, one hand fisting in your hair. "take my cock like a good little breeding bitch."

his other hand moves to your stomach, rubbing circles over where his child will one day grow. the thought makes you clench around him, and he groans in approval.

"that's it, milk my cock," he pants, his hips snapping faster. "gonna fill this belly with my seed."

you can feel him growing thicker inside you, his balls tightening as he nears his peak. the knowledge that he's going to cum, going to breed you right here in the kitchen, sends you over the edge.

"oh god, satoru!" you moan out, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. your pussy spasms around him, trying to milk him for every drop.

with a final brutal thrust, he buries himself deep and comes with a loud groan. his hot seed floods your womb, filling you up just like he promised.

he stays inside you as he catches his breath, his softening cock pulsing with the last of his release. when he finally pulls out, his cum immediately starts to leak out of your abused hole.

"look at that," he chuckles darkly, swiping some of his seed and pushing it back inside you. "can't let a drop go to waste."

he spins you around, cupping your face in his hands. his eyes bore into yours, filled with dark possession. he smiles.

"you're mine now, kid," he repeats, sealing his words with a rough kiss. "my little breeding toy. and i'm going to use you every day until my baby is growing in your belly."

#✎ᝰ.muñeca's scribbles #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #dilf!gojo #dilf!satoru #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader series #gojo drabbles #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #dark content

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 days ago

Text

Hello hello! It's your friendly neighborhood character torturer again! 😂

Wayne, your comments on this and the other timestamp have me questioning if I just straight up ditch my writing schedule and work on a timestamp for this next! And okay, it's not happening in this verse but a threesome fic with both those fellas? Thank you for putting that thought in my gutter mind cause it's now on the to-do list 😅😉

Aka Russell is okay with her tracking things not people lol. But they make such a good team! I loved how they played off of one another. If they did this all the time, they'd run Colter out of business 😂

Not me crying 😭😭 This is so sweet of him and genuinely a love letter to her in the most Russell way 🥹

These two are SUCH a solid team now. Their relationship started at full throttle and had all that intensity but now with some time? They're so locked in. I love that little scene of them before they go in to clear the building because we still get the Russell's always going to be a protective boyfriend but he actually listened to his woman and is there to support her. Gah, I love how he learned from his past mistakes there.

Right!! I completely forgot she's a doctor for a minute because of all her badass tracker skills at this point, but that's so neat! Colter should take her fucking everywhere. I'm still not over when he got shot with an arrow lmao

I love tossing in that little reminder of her medical background, for a freaking mob so she's seen a lot of shit too. Maybe she ain't a super soldier like the boys but a medical emergency? She's gonna take charge and bark orders like she's in the trenches. Honestly, I'd love to get to explore her and Colter doing a case together for real.

Omg that fucking arrow 😂 There's suspension of disbelief and then there's sending it to the fucking moon. Good on him for just walking that one off.

My poor baby 🥲 Man, Michelle, you roughed that boy up good. Now I'm even more curious what you'll do to him in that serial killer series you've got planned 😆

On the one hand, it hurts to hurt my favs. On the other, I love my whump. There's a scene in his little dark romance that makes me so giddy to think about. Although I am quiet happy to see them leaning into those darker shades of Colter in the show more!

But I love the gentle way Russell always uses with her in these situations. She's been basically been brainwashed her entire life, and Russell is slowly peeling those layers back and clearing her vision. It's so beautiful and sweet and patient and kind of him 🥺

Russell had such a weird childhood but he didn't question that he was loved, at least until after their father's death, and he was never alone unlike the reader. She's been beaten down and isolated for so long Russell is like this warm protective blanket around her and that's part of his joy is watching her come into herself.

Aww, is Colter gonna be her maid of honor? I could honestly see that with these two besties lol 💕

...Okay maybe now I have to write the wedding because the image of Colter helping the reader in the bathroom before the ceremony with her dress muttering how they'll never speak of this is now seared in my brain. 😂

Thank you so much for the comments Wayne! 🥹

M.I.A.

Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

He's My Man Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,500ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, violence, torture, mentions of death

A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He's My Man and it's highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. With Tracker coming up again soon I wanted to dive back into this world with these characters and thought this would be a fun way to check in with the gang. Please enjoy!...

________

“Thanks,” you said to the waitress who refilled your coffee. The diner was quiet, the mid-afternoon lull between the lunch and dinner crowd. You poked at the slice of chocolate pie in front of you and scrolled through your phone, an anxious feeling growing in your gut.

Colter had called last night, asking if you’d be willing to come out and act as his date at a gala event where he was investigating a young woman’s disappearance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous to accept. You’d only been doing reward work for six months and you’d had success so far with tracking down a few show dogs, a horse, a signed Mickey Mantle baseball card and a stolen car. But you hadn’t dipped your toe into the truly hard stuff yet. People.

After Colter got you to put the phone on speaker, he and Russell had wore you down and convinced you this would be a good first run. It was Colter’s case, you were simply there to help and offer input.

Flirting with a rich playboy Colter suspected of kidnapping the missing woman while he searched the house was also up there on his request list.

It was only a three hour drive to the small town from home and Russell had an important meeting with a brewery investor at lunch so you decided to help him do some last minute prep in the morning before agreeing to catch up with Colter for lunch at a diner. Yet, it was a few minutes past three and you’d heard nothing from him since around midnight the night before.

“Fuck it,” you said, slapping down a ten dollar bill and dialing.

“Hello, hello, qark,” answered Russell, his voice cheery and bright.

“Your lunch went well I’m assuming?” He hummed. “Don’t leave me hanging. What’d you settle on?”

“He gets 5% profit sharing after the first year for five years. By then he said we’d be well established and probably wouldn’t need him anymore. He was a good guy, invited us to get dinner with him and his wife sometime.”

“That’s great, honey,” you said, turning when the bell over the door rang, pouting to find it was a pair of older men that took a seat at a booth. “You haven’t heard from Colter at all, have you?”

“No…he never showed for lunch?” You sighed. “He could have been arrested.”

“Russell,” you chided.

“He gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,” he said. “I just texted her. I bet he’s sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungry…shit.”

“Shit what?” you asked, taking a big, stress induced bite of pie.

“Reenie said she hasn’t heard from him.” Russell groaned in the background. You closed your eyes. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about his little brother.

“I bet he ate some bad food, puked his guts up in the airstreamer and is sleeping it off. He said he was staying at the Sunny Days Park. I’ll go meet up with him there-”

“I’m coming out there,” said Russell. You rolled your eyes. “If he’s so sick he can’t pick up a phone then he needs help and that girl he’s looking for needs help too.”

“Fine,” you said, your heart rate spiking when you stood. “He’s probably just being his usual anti-social self, right?”

“Yeah. He’s totally known for being flaky on jobs,” deadpanned Russell. “Just…I’m not going to ask you to wait at the diner for me but be careful. Keep your gun on you and you call me when you get to his trailer. I have a bad feeling.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “I’ll call you in ten, Russ.”

You’d frowned when you found Colter’s truck parked in front of the airstream fifteen minutes later. Your pout remained when you cleared the the area and the inside of the trailer, carefully tucking your gun away into the holster on the back of your jeans. “He’s not here, Russell.”

“Anything look off?” he asked through the headphones in your ears. The space at first glance didn’t look out of the ordinary. Computer and maps on the kitchenette table. Coffee mug upside down on the drying rack next to the sink. You stopped short and squatted down, cocking your head.

“There are two pairs of shoes tucked under the table. Boots and trail running shoes.”

“Okay…” You stood up and sighed.

“Russell, I lived in this trailer for a few days and Colter is a minimalist. There are two pairs of shoes here and he only owns two pairs of shoes. So he’s walking around barefoot? That’s-”

“Not good,” sighed Russell. “Do you see any sign of struggle? Blood? Anything weird? Or missing?”

“Not that I can tell. I didn’t exactly do an inventory of his closet when…” Your eyes zeroed in on a tiny black speck in the corner. “He has a security camera.”

“Call Bobby, see if he can get the footage from a cloud server or something. I’ll call back in a few once I’m on the road.”

“Drive safe, hun.”

“You be safe. Anything feels fishy, get to a public place and stay there until I get in.”

“I know. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Two minutes later you were on Colter’s computer, Bobby sending you a link to the 24 hour cloud account where Colter’s subscription was saved to once a day.

There were two feeds, one right over the door to the air streamer and the other a wide angled shot staring down the entire length of the trailer. You backed it up to midnight, watching Colter sitting right where you currently were, texting and finishing off his beer. He stretched and stood, putting the empty under the sink.

He hit off a light and you sped it up, Colter padding out once to get a glass of water during the night. You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing.

It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.

You watched Colter disappear into the bedroom, exiting in a black tight pullover along with fitted pants for running. He sat at the booth and tugged on his sneakers before knocking back his coffee. He glanced at his phone quickly and tucked it into his pocket before he was gone, the interior still. The video was motionless for another hour when Colter came back inside, a thin layer of sweat on his face. Sneakers were removed and socks tossed into the bedroom, Colter taking deep gulps from a bottle of water. He tucked it back in the fridge and headed for the bedroom when suddenly the airstream door opened.

Three men in black masks bounded inside, one holding a bulky looking gun. Colter didn’t get more than a step in before cords shot out and you realized he’d been tased. Your heart caught in your throat as he fell to the floor hard, body rigid. His face was etched in pain as he slowly moved his arm but the men were on him fast. Punch to the face, hands zip tied behind his back, tape over his mouth. Colter was out cold when they threw a hood over his head and he was lifted off the ground by a man on either side of him. They quickly left, no one appearing until you found yourself on tape hours later.

“Colter,” you breathed out, looking out the windows, as if he’d suddenly appear safe and sound there. Shakily you dialed Russell, your head in your hands.

“Hey. You hear from Bobby at all?” You tried to keep your breathing calm, remember the stress management techniques you’d learned in med school.

You winced, Russell’s voice loud on the other end. “Y/N, answer me.”

“I watched the tape. Russ, s-someone took him. They took Colter right out of the airstream this morning and-”

“Where are you?” You lifted your head, Russell growling. “Where?”

“In the air-”

“Leave right now, right fucking now,” he said. You grabbed the phone, Colter’s computer and a stack of papers nearby before rushing out of there. “Are you out?”

“Yes, I’m in my car,” you said with a pant, tossing everything in your passenger seat and taking off out of the campground.

“Go back to that diner and I’ll meet you there in two hours. If anyone tries anything-”

“I know,” you sighed. “Don’t speed to get here. The last thing we need is you in an accident.”

“Diner. Two hours. Be there.”

Two Hours Later

You munched on a basket of once warm fries as you heard the bell over the door jingle. You eased slightly when Russell headed your direction, wrapping you up in a big hug. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Russ, I swear.” You sat back in your corner booth, Russell sliding in the opposite side, getting a cup of coffee and burger for himself before you ordered dinner. “How are you holding up?”

Russell didn’t say anything, just had that look on his face he did right before he killed Owen. Honestly, you shared that sentiment. Colter had your back when you were strangers and now when you were family? Yeah, someone was going to pay and dearly.

“Bobby’s been running the video through his programs but couldn’t ID any of the guys. They ditched Colter’s phone outside the airstreamer so no leads there,” you said, passing the computer over to Russell. He watched the video, his eyes twitching momentarily before he took a long, deep breath.

“Can we trace these guys phones?” You shook your head.

“Bobby tried. No cell activity in the nearby area before or after they…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, Russell reaching across the table and taking your hand in his. “The team’s been trying to find who took Colter while I’ve been looking into his research on the case. I figure he found out who took the woman or got real close without realizing it and that person took him.”

“Smart girl.” Russell cracked a smile, a heavy weight quickly settling back over the table. “But I have a problem with it.”

You nodded, keeping your lips sealed as his food was delivered and you got a plate of eggs and hashbrowns set down before you. “Me too. It doesn’t make sense to take him unless they wanted to know something he knows and they figured he wouldn’t crack immediately.”

“Yup. Aren’t you supposed to go to a party with him tonight?” You stopped with a forkful halfway to your mouth. Russell cocked his head. “He got an invite to that party. For two people. They must think he has a partner and that the partner knows everything Colter does.”

You set your fork down, Russell forcing a smile. “They’re looking for me. Those people are probably hurting him-”

“Hey,” said Russell, voice quiet. Gentle. “They took him because he found out something these people don’t want him to know and he didn’t realize it, not because of you. Let’s figure out what that is and then we’ll come up with a game plan.”

“Okay. Let’s figure this out.”

Forty minutes later, two clean plates and Russell making more than one odd face at the computer screen did it hit you. You slid Colter’s notebook with the name of the party over, Russell’s eyebrow quirking. “What?”

“These people don’t know who I am, otherwise I’d be gone. Colter wanted me to go to this party with him, right? Well, let’s go to the party.” Russell leaned back, closing his eyes. “Isn’t the most likely scenario that the person that took this girl also took Colter? And they clearly are powerful enough to have a few guys working for them. Let’s go to the party full of rich people and see what we can sus out.”

“Y/N.” Russell sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. “It’s way too dangerous. Just because someone hasn’t come after you doesn’t mean they won’t. We need to figure out what Colter stumbled on-”

“This party,” you said, holding up the notebook, slapping it down. Russell clenched his jaw, relaxing after a beat. “The only research Colter did was on this girl and then there’s the party invite. He wanted to go there for a reason.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, picking it up, flipping through the pages. “How’d he get the invitation in the first place?”

“It’s a charity fundraiser. Anyone in town can go as far as I can tell,” you said. “All I know is he wanted me to be a distraction.”

“Distraction…” Russell typed on Colter’s computer, biting his bottom lip. “Party’s at some older rich dude’s house. Francis Duvel. Sounds like a real upstanding community member.”

“That’s not surprising the wealthy guy is hosting a charity event.” Russell’s eye twitched before he spun around the screen. Your eyes flickered down, reading a headline.

Duvel Industries Once Again Cleared of Safety Allegations; Whistleblower Drops Suit as CEO Vows Quality & Integrity Valued Over Profits

“I couldn’t figure it out earlier but there’s been a pattern of people going missing every so often in this town. Men. Women. Old. Young. Never kids or teens. Always adults. Your missing girl, Alexis Pearson works at-”

“Duvel Industries,” you said, flipping through a paper. “Executive assistant. You think-”

“Poor girl probably found out they were cutting corners somewhere and she said something to the wrong person.” He handed you back the computer and sure enough, all of the people that had “left” town or simply gone missing had at one point or another worked for Duvel Industries.

“How did no one figure this out before? It’s obvious what’s going on,” you said, Russell looking around. “Wait. You think…”

“Article said the local cops found no issues and never have. This charity auction is for the community including-”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “He’s got the sheriff in his pocket, likely a few more cops. No wonder Colter couldn’t just turn over what he found. He couldn’t trust them.”

“He should have called me,” said Russell, closing the computer. He shook his head, staring out at the cloudy evening sky. “I have a friend in the bureau. I could have…”

“So let’s call your friend, get the FBI up here to take a look at Duvel and in the meantime, try to find Colter and Alexis.” For the first time he looked worried and it made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“Alexis is probably already dead and when FBI agents show up at Duvel’s front door, he’s going to kill Colt and the girl if they aren’t already. Y/N, we have to find him tonight.”

“Okay,” you said, getting up and pulling him into your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Screw the party. That was Colter’s plan. Ours needs to be more direct.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Duvel isn’t stupid enough to keep him or Alexis at a place where he’s having the whole town come to, right? So where would you hide them as a CEO?” He smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling out his phone.

“Bobby, it’s Russell. I need the address of every property owned by Duvel Industries asap.”

One Hour Later

“How do you know it’s this one?” you asked Russell as you got out of his car. He went to the trunk, resting his head against the open thing. “What’s wrong?”

“I know because this place is isolated, it’s been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. It’s Duvel’s dumping ground.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “Qark.”

He didn’t have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. He’d wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.

Russell reached inside the trunk and opened a black duffel, holding out a black vest to you. It was much smaller than the one he and Colter fit in though. You took the vest, followed by Russell handing you a thigh holster. “I thought you were going to tell me to stay in the car.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to stay here,” he said, bending down to buckle the straps against your thigh, pulling it taut. He looked up with a half-smile before taking your gun from the back holster and putting it inside, tossing the other one in the trunk.

“What are…” He zipped up your jacket all the way and pulled the vest on over your shoulders, fixing your hood before tightening the sides so the vest hung tight to your body. “Russell.”

He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. “You have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so you’d be safe doing reward work. You’ve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So let’s go do this together.”

You smiled, running your hand over the vest. “How long have you had this?”

“I bought it the first reward job you took. I figured someday you’d need it.” He put on his own gear and locked the car, inhaling deeply. “If you want to change your mind-”

“That building is massive. You can’t go in alone.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Am I liability to you? Serious question. If I go in there with you, does it make things harder if Colter is in there?”

Russell peeled open his eyes, smirking as he planted both hands on your face and kissed you hard.

“I always worry, qark. Whether you’re in there or out there.” He touched his forehead to yours, hot breath fanning over you. “You do not have to go in. Absolutely you do not have to. But if my girl wants to do this with me, then I’m glad I’ve got her for a partner.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, Russell lifting you up into a hug.

“But if shit goes down, you run.” You shrugged, Russell groaning. “Alright, alright, Rambo. Follow my lead and stick close. Bobby’s going to contact my friend in two hours if he doesn't hear from us so let’s get a move on.”

“Age before beauty,” you said. He narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, keep it up youngin’ and next time you’re in that outfit I’ll teach you a lesson.” You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. “Y/N.”

“Sorry.” He nodded, checking his gun before letting in hang by his side.

“Stay low and quiet. Clear your corners and don’t hesitate to use your weapon. You sure you want to go in?”

“Let’s do this.” Russell checked your gear one more time before you headed into the forest, jogging through it for a moment. You stopped at the edge when Russell held up a hand. He reached into his back pocket, revealing a small scope. You knelt by his side, looking around as he mumbled to himself.

“Good news and bad news. Good news is there’s only one vehicle and it’s a car which means most likely there’s four guys or less. Could be more but odds aren’t in favor. No cameras from what I can tell. Bad news is two outside guards. It’s going to be hard to get in.” You pursed your lips. “What are you thinking?”

“If we each get one-”

“Y/N,” Russell scolded. You frowned, his face softening. “Those guys are huge. Odds are they grab you before you get the guy out cold.”

“Russell. I fought off Owen when I was roofied when I was younger. You have taught me so many moves. I wouldn’t risk Colter if I didn’t know that I can take out a guy that size. Trust me. Please.” He lowered his head, shoulders sagging.

“If he’s not going down, shoot him.” You agreed and then the two of you were jogging across the dark grass, coming to a stop against the concrete wall of the building. Russell pointed you forward and you went ahead of him, gun in front of you, squeezing the cold metal tight.

The guard rounded the corner quickly though, startled by the sight of you. You ducked fast, Russell’s fist flying out where your head had been. It connected hard with the guard’s jaw and he slumped against the wall, crumpling down in a heap. You stood up, Russell tapping your shoulder before stepping in front of you. After a moment the guard was restrained, tape over his mouth. Russell peaked around the corner before holding up a hand for you to stay back before he disappeared.

Ten seconds later he returned, body slightly less tense. He nodded and you jogged over to him, keeping behind him as you went through the door and past the other out cold guard with hands and feet secured.

The building was large, some warehouse space, offices on either side. Russell sighed silently before going left. You walked backwards behind him for a few minutes as he cleared room after room after room with nothing to show.

“It’s taking too long,” he whispered. “I can’t check every room fast enough if the guards check in on a schedule.”

“I can finish the hall. Do the other side. You’re faster without me,” you murmured. Russell stared at you for five seconds then planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Be safe. I’ll be right back.” Silently, he went the way you’d came from and disappeared around the corner. You turned your attention back on the six or so offices to go with a thick swallow. Without Russell by your side, your nerves came front and center. But you couldn’t stand there forever. There was probably someone else inside and Colter wouldn’t hesitate if you were in his shoes.

You steadied yourself and cleared a dark, empty office, then another. The second to last door pushed open easily, bright light hitting you in the face.

There was barely enough time to register Colter in a chair, someone behind him with a knife and then the man’s hand was moving fast towards his throat.

The trigger pulled hard as you squeezed it once, twice, three times. You couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears as you did wide sweeps of the room. No one else was in there and after finding the man slumped on the ground was dead, you rushed to Colter who’s head hung low.

“Colter. Colter,” you urged. He was shaking as you tilted his chin up, a thin line of red on his throat but not deep. You closed your eyes. Fuck, a second later and Colter would have already bled out by now.

But something wasn’t right. His clothes were wet, skin ice cold. Your eyes darted upwards when you felt cold air conditioning kick on overhead. It was only then that you noticed the dead man was wearing a winter jacket for some reason.

You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.

Another gun shot rang out nearby and you spun around with your gun, aiming at the door. Russell appeared a few moments later, sighing in relief. But his face fell when he saw Colter violently shaking in the chair, arms wrapped tight around himself.

“What’s-”

“He’s hypothermic,” you said, cutting up his pants, Colter shaking his head. “We need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up now.”

“Y/N-”

“Russell, he’s not stable.” You finished cutting off his pants and had his pullover halfway off. “Call your FBI friend and tell him we need a med evac to a level 1 trauma center. In the meantime, go kill the A/C and get my med kit from the car.”

“Got it,” he said, turning to leave. “I found Alexis.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, Russell smiling. “She’s roughed up but she convinced these guys-”

“I’m sorry but does she need medical attention, yes or no?” He shook his head. “Then go do as I ask.”

Russell took off down the hall, Colter’s wet clothes dropping to the ground. You got behind him and put your arms under him and around his chest, hoisting him up.

He screamed at the sudden pain in his side and leg but you could deal with that later. Right now, he was too fucking cold. You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.

Colter was stoic. Tough as nails like Russell. Calm in moments of terror.

Scared, hurt, out of control Colter made you heart feel like it was being stabbed.

“S’okay, Colt. I got you. You’ll feel better real soon,” you said, dragged him down the hall and into an office you’d found a couch in earlier. You jerked when you noticed a shadow at the doorway.

Alexis was hiding halfway behind the doorframe, wide eyed at you. “I-I can help.”

“You know what a space heater is?” She nodded quickly. “Find them and bring them back here. Quickly. I saw a few in this hallway.”

She ducked away as you lowered Colter to the ground and plugged in the space heater you’d saw in there, turning it to the max.

You found a wooden chair and kicked at it with your boot until it broke apart. Taking two long pieces, you placed them on either side of Colter’s leg and removed your vest, jacket and shirt.

“And you said my red jacket was ugly,” you teased, laying it over his shivering form. “Too visible if I recall.”

His fingers squeezed the material so tight it started to tear, your heart breaking for him. You leaned down close, wiping the wetness out of his hair with your shirt. With a sigh you kissed his forehead, Colter mumbling something you couldn’t make out.

“I know you know you’re in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story I’m going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.” You soaked up more water with your shirt and leaned back, removing your tank top, leaving you in just a black bra. “You know Russell bought me this bra back when we went on that trip to Paris last month. I know we told you about it and you did a lot of humming like you couldn’t care less, remember?”

You shredded the tank top with your hands into strips, laying them over and under his broken leg. “I’m going to splint your leg now.”

“So there was I,” you said, pulling tight, Colter nearly doubling over as you did the few other spots quickly. “In Paris with your brother of all people and he’s bought me all these nice pajamas and lounge sets and other things you don’t need to know about when he says, let’s take a few days trip to Africa. Let’s go to the desert. Now, I don’t know about you but if you’ve never been to the desert, it’s hot as fuck.”

You made sure his leg was straight before fixing your coat on him, Colter shivering into your hand. Alexis returned with three space heaters and you quickly go them on and around him.

“When you’re in the desert, you can feel the sun prickle your skin. You know that feeling? The heat from the rays literally warming you, getting inside. It makes you so hot. It reflects off the sand, like hot sand at a beach, right back at you. It’s like you’re on a baking sheet, hot out of the oven, baked on all sides.”

Colter was still shivering but he was starting to relax, less violent shakes coming out now.

“You ever have a sunburn like that? I bet you did. Your nose and cheeks got all red, your skin so hot. I know you Shaw boys were always outside. Russell gets these freckles when he’s out in the sun. Do you get them too? A nice hot summer day, out on the water with a warm breeze.”

Russell entered the room, kneeling beside you. “Chopper will be here in thirty.”

“Okay,” you said, Colter’s head turning to the side. “Rest up for me big guy.”

You got up and pulled Russell to the back corner, nodding at Alexis sitting on the couch. “What?”

“Russell, you should take her to the nearest hospital.” He frowned, biting his tongue though as you held up your hands. “She’s not as bad as your brother but she’s dehydrated and cold.”

“No, I need to stay here in case Duvel’s guys show up. You take her-”

“I’m sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I can’t worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.”

He closed his eyes. “Fine but I’m tossing those two guys in the trunk of their car. And put your vest back on. And keep an eye on the door-“

“Shaw.” He opened his eyes, finding you glaring at him.

“Please help him the best you can,” he whispered. You hugged him, Russell squeezing you tight before he was moving and out the door with Alexis under his arm. Only the hum of the space heaters and Colter’s incoherent mumblings could be heard as you sat down beside him.

“Here you go,” you said, resting the vest over his injured leg to try and give him some warmth. You held your gun in your hand as the other rested on his forehead. Fuck, he was still too cold. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, looking so young for the briefest of moments. “I have one last idea. But it’ll hurt.”

He nodded very slowly before closing his eyes tight. “I’ll be right back.”

You jogged out to the warehouse and hit the switch to open the bay door, quickly breaking into the luxury car out front and pulling it in. You left it on and hit the heated seats to low, rushing back to Colter where he was breathing shallowly. “Come on, bud. This should help.”

He groaned when you pulled him through the halls and out to the warehouse, cursing a long string of profanities at you that felt like the closest Colter Shaw had ever gotten to going absolute ape shit.

The ache in your chest eased when he hissed at the contact with the seats and then, you swore on your life, he cooed like a newborn baby. With the heat blasting in the car and thanks to the seats warming his bare skin, he finally passed out with a smidge more color to his skin.

“Okay,” you sighed, resting your head against the wheel. “You’re going to be okay.”

The Next Evening

“Hey,” said Russell. You didn’t acknowledge him as you watched flames flicker in the outdoor fireplace back at home. He sat down on the couch behind you, pulling you back into his lap. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you said, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You tucked yourself into him, Russell wrapping his arms around your body. “How’s Colter? He sleeping yet?”

“Oh, he’s annoying as hell. Little shit thinks he’ll be driving out of here tomorrow morning.”

You groaned, Russell humming. “He broke his damn leg. He isn’t driving for at least a month. He is staying with us at a minimum until that cast is off.”

“I’m not the one you have to argue with.” You sighed, Russell’s long legs shifting around to lay over top of yours. “You want to talk about it?”

Your eyes welled up, Russell sensing your tension. Your eyelids squeezed tight, something heavy boiling up under your skin.

“What’s the hardest thing? Killing someone? Or almost losing Colter?” he asked quietly. You shrugged, turning your head down to your lap. “He hurt-”

“My little brother died of hypothermia.” Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so you’d face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. “The car accident…it was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurt…the last thing he ever said was how cold he was.”

You looked over Russell’s shoulder at the dark lake, save for a few homes with lights on across the water.

“I don’t care that I killed that son of a bitch after what he did to Colt. But I just…” You inhaled shakily, gripping Russell’s hoodie tighter. He shushed you, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“He’s home with us. He’s safe,” said Russell softly. Long fingers stroked through your hair, tucking you into his neck. “I think Charlie would be really proud of you for protecting Colter like you did.”

“I should have protected him too,” you mumbled. Russell sighed, quietly embracing you. “You’re an older sibling. You understand.”

“Bullshit.” You leaned back fast, glaring at his stern green eyes. “Your dad was an amazing doctor and he left two injured kids. He was either a moron which I doubt or your brother had internal bleeding which made him say he was cold. If it was hypothermia you would have died too.”

“No, my dad said-”

“Was this before or after Owen’s fucked up mob family started drugging your dad so he had psychosis?” Your voice caught in your throat. Russell raised his eyebrows. “Sweetie, do you even know why Charlie died?”

“It was hypo…” You unraveled yourself from him, planting your bare feet on the warm deck. You gripped the couch cushions, closing your eyes, medical facts bouncing around your head. “Jesus, Russ. Why did I think…”

“Because your dad said it. He probably never even remembered he did. Deep down, he didn’t blame you so you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

You stood up, stepping in front of the fire with your arms crossed. You titled your head back, inhaling deeply. “He said a lot of mean things when I was a teenager, as I got older. But at the funeral…he was still himself. He didn’t…”

“No, he didn’t.” Russell stood behind you, curling his arms around your chest, trapping you against his strong warm frame. “So back to my original statement. Charlie, hell your parents too, I know they’re proud of you.”

“I killed a guy,” you scoffed.

“You saved a woman, helped catch a murderer, expose corruption throughout a small town, bring closure to a dozen families with missing loved ones-”

“Russell,” you groaned.

“And you saved my little brother’s life all while risking your own. We are damn proud of you, my queen of darkness.” Your head tilted backwards to look at him, Russell grinning back. “No objection?”

“Fine. You wore me down. I did good,” you grumbled. He chuckled against your ear, giving you a tight hug.

“The words every man loves to hear from his girl,” he laughed, giving you space to turn and hug him back. “You want to try sleeping?”

“In a minute. I want to check on him quick.”

“Don’t be long,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger. You gave him a hum and slipped inside, walking down the hall to the guest room. You cracked open the door slowly, Colter laying in bed with a frown.

“Need some pain killers?” you whispered as you entered, shutting the door behind you.

“No,” he grumbled, glancing up at you when you took two pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. “I overheard you and Russell.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, Colter grabbing your arm. He tried to sit up, relenting when you pushed on his shoulder. “Rest. I know that’s a foreign word to you but you have to take things slow if you want to recover correctly.”

“And you need to realize this job is dangerous and I am not your responsibility.”

“No, you’re not.” You ruffled his messy hair gently, Colter pouting. “But that’s what family does for each other.”

He wanted to retort but bit his tongue, grumbling as you fixed his blankets and made him take a painkiller.

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Russell got engaged?” You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger.

“When did you notice?”

“When you shot that guy. It helped to think of something else for a bit.” You nodded, playing with the ring. “When’d he ask?”

“About a week ago. We wanted to surprise you and Dory.” His hand fell down to yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Colter, I know you have your issues with your brother but we love you. I know you’re going to hate it but you need to stay here for awhile. At the very least you need to stay with Dory if not us. You can’t be alone right now.”

“I will try to not complain too much,” he said. You smiled, leaning down to hug him. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it is all,” you said, getting up and pushing his glass of water closer. “Need anything else?”

“I’m good.” You went to the door, Colter clearing his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“That red jacket is still fucking obnoxious.” You flipped him off, Colter cracking a smile.

“Goodnight, asshole.” You turned off his light for him and found Russell curled up in the blankets in bed.

“How’s the patient?” he mumbled, big spooning you as soon as you were tucked under the covers.

“He’s going to be alright.”

“Did you ask him about being in the wedding yet?”

“One step at a time, hun.” He chuckled, burying his face against the back of your neck.

“Try to get some rest too, qark.” You closed your eyes, nodding once. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Russ.”

___________

#fic feedback #russell shaw #russell shaw x reader

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hederasgarden · 10 hours ago

Text

The Arrangement

Summary: You're about to attend a week-long destination wedding for your best friend, but your ex-boyfriend, who publicly cheated on you before dumping you, is the best man. Not wanting to face the event alone, you decide to hire an escort for the trip. Pairing: Tangerine x F!Reader Word Count: 1K Rating: Mature, sexual touching and cursing. A/N: Thank you to @otaku-girl-ao3, @ryebecca and everyone else who helped me with this story!

From across the patio, you spot your ex, Charles, and his new girlfriend, Sarah — the one he left you for. She’s younger than you, pretty, tan, and blonde. It looks like she was poured into the shimmering gold dress she wears. You look away, hating the way it makes you feel small and inadequate.

“That him?” Tangerine asks, his voice casual as he throws an arm over the back of your chair. He’s sitting close enough now that the scent of his rich cologne washes over you. It's the kind of fragrance that matches a man like him, smooth and expensive. Confident.

“Ah, yes,” you answer, trying not to react when his other hand settles on your bare knee a second later.

His palm is rough but warm, and after a moment, his thumb begins to move in a slow, repetitive circle, his attention fixed entirely on you. Your lashes flutter involuntarily when he leans in, nuzzling the side of your face, his voice rasping in your ear.

"Relax, luv, " he murmurs, his tone light, even teasing as his hand creeps higher, brushing your inner thigh. "Just pretend he’s not here. I’m more interestin’ anyway.”

A spark of warmth ignites in your belly, slowly growing as his mustache brushes the side of your neck. His lips follow, trailing up your skin, and he places a soft kiss just below your ear, the sensitive spot sending a thrill through you. The breathy little sigh that escapes your lips has him grinning against your neck, a pleased chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.

You should tell him to stop. Public displays were never your thing, not before, and certainly not now. But then again, this is exactly what you wanted, wasn’t it? Why else would you have paid for Tangerine’s time? To make yourself seem more desirable, more confident, less...pathetic. To show Charles, in the quietest way possible, that he didn’t break you, that you’d moved on.

It's a struggle to refocus your attention away from Tangerine. By the time you do, you're dismayed to see Charles is halfway to your table, his confident stride unmistakable. Sarah is glued to his side, her hand wrapped firmly around his arm. She’s trying to keep up with him, but her posture is stiff, and she stumbles slightly in the high heels that probably weren’t made for walking at his pace. The thought of speaking with him twists your stomach into a knot, and you brace yourself for whatever smug remark he’s going to throw your way.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Charles says. His voice is smooth, and casual, as if he didn’t just leave your life in ruins six months ago.

Tangerine pulls back just enough to look up at Charles with an almost lazy interest, his gaze cool and steady. His presence beside you is surprisingly comforting in a way you didn’t expect, a shield against every insecurity your ex brings so effortlessly to the surface.

“You didn’t mention your ex had a daughter,” Tangerine says, directing the comment to you as he flicks his sunglasses down far enough to peer at Sarah over the rim. She shifts uncomfortably, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here. You can’t blame her. You feel much the same way.

“Actually she’s my fiancé,” Charles replies, an insufferably smug expression on his face. You had to date the man for over five years before he popped the question. Meanwhile, he and Sarah haven’t even been dating for a full year.

Tangerine, unfazed, tilts his head slightly, never breaking eye contact with Charles. A low, amused hum escapes him, his lips curling into a smirk that’s almost too casual. "Shoppin’ in the juniors section?" he asks.

A brief, uncomfortable silence stretches out and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere as his words settle. Sarah’s face flushes, her grip tightening on Charles’ arm. Her gaze shifts nervously to the side before she quickly looks down. For a split second, you almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

Charles' reaction is less pronounced, his smile faltering as his brow furrows for just a second, before he forces it back into place.

“Anyway, I s'pose congrats are in order,” Tangerine says, his voice dropping into something almost too smooth to be kind. He raises his glass and adds, “Must make it easy to get along with the future in-laws, bein' their age an’ all.”

The effect is immediate. Charles' face hardens, his mouth set in a thin line. His eyes dart from Tangerine to you, and for a moment, it’s as if he’s silently demanding you intervene. The instinct to protect your own comfort is there, always the one to smooth things over before they get worse, but you suppress it, letting the moment unfold.

When the silence remains unanswered, Tangerine leans back, his posture relaxed, but his hand returns to your thigh. The cool metal of his rings presses against your skin, a contrast to the warmth of his touch. His fingers lift the hem of your dress just enough to reveal a hint of your thigh. It’s a small move, but you see Charles' attention flicker toward it for a brief second, his gaze lingering before he quickly forces it away.

“You can fuck off now,” Tangerine says. His voice is light, but there’s no mistaking the finality in it.

With a casual wave of his hand, he dismisses them, the gesture mocking and deliberate, leaving no space for further conversation.Charles’ looks like he might say something, but before he can, Sarah tugs on his arm, whispering urgently to him. With a stiff nod to her, they walk away.

Once they're gone, you turn to Tangerine, an eyebrow raised. “That was a little antagonistic,” you chide. “Only a little?” He asks, his hand still resting possessively on your thigh. “Must be losin’ my touch, luv.”

“Maybe dial it down a little for next time,” you suggest with a small smile.

He grins wider, leaning into your space, his lips just inches from your own. “If you want subtle you should have chosen Sergei,” he reminds you before capturing your lips in a rough, demanding kiss that has you grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket to steady yourself.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #aaron taylor johnson #tangerine

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harkness-pet · 22 hours ago

Note

Hello! Could you maybe write something darker where Agatha makes reader think reader’s all alone and seduces her? Maybe uses some magic to make her more needy? Thank youu 🥴

Here you go:)

Just a FYI, it’s been a while since I wrote something and English is not my first language, so please bear with me while I slowly get back to writing. And thank you all for the positive feedback on “what a pretty girl”, it was unexpected, but very much appreciated!

you will never need anything else

You drop your phone on the table. It is no use to keep staring at it, no message is going to come through. You have tried to call your friends many times, but they’re always busy, never picking up the phone.

You don’t know what you did wrong. It has started since around the time you moved to your new apartment which you share with a woman named Agatha. The price was not so bad and you could really use some company.

Your need for company have only grown since your parents stopped responding to your messages, explaining in their last message that they’re busy, and your friends started sending you weird cryptic texts hinting at why they don’t want to be around you anymore.

But it was your birthday. Shouldn’t they send at least one small message?

You don’t understand, everything was fine, but it seems like you did something or maybe changed and people just didn’t want to be around you.

You feel tears spring to your eyes and you blink furiously to get rid of them. You try one more time to call your friend, but the call doesn’t even go to a voice mail, it seems like she blocked your number.

You stand up and march to the kitchen and rummage through the cupboard to find Agatha’s good gin. It is Friday night after all and your birthday and your shift doesn’t start until Saturday evening. If only you had more money you could just buy a plane ticket and go visit your parents, but the prices are so high and you’re barely hanging there as it is.

You pour yourself a generous amount of the gin and then see a bottle of some purple syrup in the back titled “for Y/N”. You smile despite the tears. At least you have Agatha - Agatha who makes you home made syrups, who always asks how your day went and who never ignores any text message.

You add the syrup into the gin and you swear you see it sparkle a bit, but you’re probably just tired and seeing things.

You’re on your second glass when the tears come again and in that moment Agatha comes home. When she sees your face, she immediately drops her coat and bag and envelopes you in a hug.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asks with worry in her voice and kisses your head.

“I don’t know,” you weep, hugging her back tightly. “Everyone just… no one has time for me and it’s my birthday and no one even… I don’t understand.”

“Oh baby,” she whispers. “Come.” She leads you back to the couch, not before eyeing the bottle of syrup with wide eyes. “I see you found my gift.”

“Sorry, I-“

“No, no,” she calms you down and settles down so you’re still in her embrace, enjoying how her fingers run through your hair and draw circles on your back. “It was for you after all. It contains some very special berries from Ireland, they taste magical, but are very hard to find here.”

She puts a finger below your chin and raises it up to make you look at her. Then she brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear and whispers: “special berries for my special girl.”

You smile softly. Agatha always has a way of making you feel important. “Thank you, I liked the taste.”

“No more tears, sweetheart, no one is worth it,” she tells you and caresses your cheek.

In the moment of vulnerability you have a sudden impulse to kiss her and you do so, closing the distance between you two, planting a firm kiss on her lips.

She doesn’t return the kiss so you move away. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Agatha.”

Agatha smiles and grabs the back of your neck, pushing you forward to kiss you back. “Don’t be sorry, it’s okay.”

As you’re slowly making out with Agatha, you feel the world turn upside down and you have to lean back to breathe.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” you say frowning and suddenly you feel too warm. “I feel…weird.” You start unbuttoning your shirt leaving only a tank top on.

“Baby,” Agatha whispers and grabs your shoulders, pushing you back to lay down on the couch. “Let me make you feel better.”

You start panting, the heat is making you crazy and you take off the tank top, not even caring that you are not wearing a bra. “Agatha, I need you” you whine.

“Shh, I know,” Agatha shushes you and with hungry eyes looks over your exposed skin. She leans down to lick your nipple making you moan out loud. “Sweet pretty girl, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Look at you.”

You don’t have the energy to acknowledge her words, your body is on fire and your whole mind screams agatha agatha agatha as if you were under her spell. You’re pretty sure you’ve never thought about Agatha that way, but that seems so stupid because her mere presence is making you crazy now.

“You look so beautiful like this,” Agatha whispers, sits next to you and softly traces her hands all over your exposed body. “So needy,” she murmurs and pinches your nipples, “so pliant,” she lowers one hand to cover your soaked folds over the sweatpants you’re wearing.

You wish you had more dignity, but in that moment you don’t care as you grab her hand and push it under the waistband of your pants.

You both moan as her fingers finally reach your center. She slowly circles your clit making your hips thrust up.

“You are mine, Y/N,” Agatha says and kisses you loudly before kissing your neck, your breasts, your belly, marking you, biting you. “I’m so glad you finally realised that I’m the only one you need.”

You moan and you whimper and you really cannot imagine you will ever need anything else.

“You see?” Agatha murmurs against your skin. “Isn’t this better than hanging out with friends who don’t appreciate you? Or parents who don’t even listen to what you have to say?”

You moan as you come and bring Agatha’s head up so you can kiss her again. You clung to her shoulders, treating them as your anchor. You cannot let go of her. Her wild hair tickle your breasts and you see yourself as an offering, sparkles very similar to the ones in the syrup simmer behind your eyelids and you’re changing. You are not you. You’re Agatha’s.

Your mind is swirling with her, her scent, her eyes, her smirk, her soft skin, you suddenly don’t know what possessed you to ever care that the people you had been once closed to halted any contact with you. You have Agatha and that’s all you need.

You don’t know that Agatha messed with your phone and email account. You don’t know that your friends received a message from your phone number explaining that you want different friends… you don’t know she actually messages your parents often from a different phone number which she told them is your new one, telling them you’re good and well and very busy.

You think you have no one but Agatha. You think you don’t need anyone else but Agatha. And Agatha and her special berries made sure you will always think that.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #Agatha harkness x you

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sour-cherryyy · 1 day ago

Text

PRETTY BOY. 〜Ni-ki

Pairing: bsf!Ni-ki x fem!reader Summary: What starts as a lazy afternoon and a casual offer to do Ni-ki’s makeup quickly turns into something much more intimate. Between teasing remarks, lingering touches, and a tension that refuses to be ignored, your flirty friendship takes a turn neither of you can pretend is just playful anymore. Word count: 1.3k A/n: Fluff, suggestive??? But this is all quite new to me so I'm keeping it a little PG- but I hope we enjoy it. Now playing: Pretty Boy By P1Harmony

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You blink at the last sentence of your book, the words blurring before you shut it with a soft thud. The ending was decent. Not world-shattering, but satisfying. Your eyes wander, seeking something else to entertain you. Anything, really.

Afternoon light streams through the window, spilling over tangled sheets and soft pillows. The room is wrapped in a calm kind of quiet. It's the kind of silence that leaves your fingers itching for something to do.

Ni-ki is half-reclined against the headboard, legs stretched out, phone resting in one hand as his thumb scrolls steadily. His hair falls a little messy over his forehead, and his lashes are so unfairly long they cast shadows on his cheeks.

His expression shifts now and then- amused, unimpressed, soft. You wonder what he’s watching, but more than that, you wonder how someone can look that good doing absolutely nothing.

You roll onto your side, elbow propping up your head. “You’re such a Pretty Boy, you know?”

He doesn’t look up. “Thanks for the update.”

“No, seriously. Like, it’s criminal. Your face is kind of stupidly symmetrical.”

He pauses mid-scroll, glancing sideways at you with one brow arched. “You good over there?”

You ignore the teasing in his voice and sit up; legs folded under you. “Let me do your makeup.”

Ni-ki actually laughs — short, amused, and a little disbelieving. “What?”

“I’m bored,” you say with a shrug. “You’re just lying there being so photogenic. Let me do something productive with it.”

He tilts his head, considering it. “You want to play with my face for fun?”

“Yes. Please.”

There’s a pause where he looks you over like he’s weighing the risk versus reward, then finally sighs and tosses his phone onto the nightstand. “Fine. But if I look like a clown, I’m ending our friendship.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You climb off the bed, digging into your drawer where you keep your little stash — some palettes, a couple brushes, a tinted gloss or two. You’re not a professional, but you know how to make things sparkle.

When you turn back, he’s shifted- now sitting upright with his back against the headboard, arms relaxed at his sides. The image alone is enough to make your stomach flutter a bit. His sleeves are pushed up, exposing his forearms. His legs are slightly spread, leaving just enough space between his thighs to make your breath catch.

You stand beside him and lean forward with a brush in hand, but the angle is awkward. Even standing, his height makes it hard to reach both sides of his face without hovering over him weirdly.

You purse your lips in frustration.

He notices, obviously. “Problem?”

“This is an awkward angle,” you grumble.

Then, without giving you a moment to protest, he grabs your waist and gently lifts you, guiding you to straddle his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your heart practically leaps out of your chest.

“Better reach?” he asks, like he didn’t just set your entire nervous system on fire.

“Um.” You clear your throat. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His hands linger at your hips before settling on your waist. You try to focus- seriously, you do- but he’s warm beneath you, and his face is now inches from yours. Your mind keeps drifting, caught on the way his hands rest so easily on you, sending a flutter of butterflies through your stomach.

His gaze drops from your eyes to your mouth, then back again. His thumbs brush the hem of your shirt- not pulling you in, not pushing you away. Just there. Steady. Intentional.

You reach for the small palette of blush, trying not to let it show — but your hand trembles slightly as you apply it, giving your nervousness away.

The quiet between you isn’t awkward; it’s charged, humming with something unspoken. His head tilts slightly as you work, a small, unconscious movement that makes your fingers brush his cheek. His skin is warm there, too. Warmer, maybe. Or maybe it’s just you.

Then you feel it.

Ni-ki shifts beneath you- not much; just enough for his hands to tighten ever so slightly at your waist, and just enough for you to feel him growing harder beneath you. Grounding. Intentional.

“You sure this isn’t some elaborate plot to make me fall for you?” he asks, voice low and amused.

Your eyes flicker down, and you snort. “If it were, it’s working remarkably well.”

His lips quirk. “So, you are trying.”

You lean in again. “I didn’t say that.”

He stays still, but you can feel the shift in the air — like something between you has tilted. Just slightly. Just enough to matter.

The pad of your thumb rests lightly on his jaw as you blend the finishing touches .

You lean back to admire your work.

“Done!” you announce, triumphant, reaching over to grab your pink camera. “Say cheese…”

He complies, the smile small and obedient — but there’s something distracted in his eyes. Like he’s waiting for a reaction you never gave.

You snap a few photos, lingering longer than you need to. And even though the makeup’s finished, you don’t move off of him.

“I mean,” he murmurs after a beat, “if this is a plot... you’re dangerously good at it.”

You don’t answer. Not out loud. You don’t have to.

Your eyes stay on the screen, casually surveying the photos you just took, but your lips curve up at the corners — just enough to give you away.

His gaze doesn’t waver. It hasn’t left your face once.

You should move. Say something clever. Make a joke to cut through the heat coiling in your stomach. But you don’t. Can’t. Because he’s looking at you like you’ve already crossed a line. Like he’s just waiting for you to realize it.

You finally lock eyes. You forget to breathe. You don’t even blink.

He leans in, slow enough to give you time to stop him. But you don’t. You lean in too- heart racing, mouth parted- until there’s nothing left between you.

And then he kisses you.

It’s neither soft nor gentle. Not the least bit hesitant as his lips crash into yours.

It’s a breaking point.

Warm and breathless, his mouth finds yours like he’s been holding back for far too long. His hands slip from your hips to your waist, fingers pressing just enough to keep you there, right there, like he’s worried you’ll vanish if he doesn’t.

You kiss him back, instinctively, desperately- fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until your chest brushes his.

He groans softly into your mouth, the sound low and wrecked, and it sets your nerves alight.

His hands roam- up your back, over your ribs, skimming just beneath your bra strap. Your thighs tighten around his waist, the tension between you pulled taut like a wire.

You gasp into the kiss as he gently moves your hips against his, making your whole body heat up- and he uses the moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing yours in a way that makes your head spin.

Every part of you is hyperaware; of the way his body fits against yours, of the heat pooled low in your belly, of the ache blooming at your core.

This isn’t casual anymore.

It’s messy and hungry.

When you finally pull back, it’s not because you want to, it’s because you need to breathe.

Your forehead rests against his, your breaths coming hard and uneven.

His eyes flutter open, dark and glassy, a smile curling lazily at his lips.

“Guess I should let you do my makeup more often,” he says, voice rough and low.

You laugh — shaky, breathless. “Shut up.”

But you’re still holding him like you don’t plan on going anywhere.

And judging by the look in his eyes, he’s not going anywhere either.

I fear this may be my best one yet... Lmk if i should make a part 2!!! I should probably go revise now, though :( Thanks for making it to the end, -EL (masterlist)

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mintyys-blog · 9 hours ago

Note

Hi I love your writing and invincible stuff so much if it’s not too much, could you make the mark variants with reader who is still trying to recover from a bad relationship and she’s healed from it but she’s just afraid to date anyone because she’s afraid that she’ll have to deal with it again .

Please and thank you 🍰

HEADCANONS | variants with s/o who came from a toxic relationship

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: mention of toxic relationships, murder, toxic behaviour (Sinsiter Mark)

Kindly respect my work. No reposts, translations, or rewrites — AI-generated or not — without my consent. © @mintyys-blog

MAIN MARK

Mark doesn’t rush her. He knows what it’s like to be hurt, to question everything, to feel like love might never be safe again. So he’s patient — endlessly so. When she hesitates, when she pulls back even after they’ve laughed all night, he doesn’t get upset. He just smiles, soft and steady, and says, “It’s okay. Take your time.”

He makes sure she knows she can talk to him, always. “Communication’s important,” he tells her one night while they’re watching the stars. “Even if it’s hard. Even if it’s messy. You don’t have to keep anything inside when you’re with me.”

And he means it. He never pushes her to share, but when she does — even in fragments — he listens. No judgment. No pressure. Just a boy who cares, who wants to be the safe place someone else couldn’t be.

He shows love in small, quiet ways: warming up her favorite food after a long day, sending her random messages just to check in, holding her hand just long enough for her to squeeze back. Every time she opens up, he treats it like a gift. Because to him, it is.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he whispers into her hair once, holding her close. “You just have to be you. I can handle the rest.”

MOHAWK MARK

The second he finds out what her ex put her through — the control, the emotional bruises, the way she still flinches when people raise their voices — his entire mood shifts. The air stills around him. His fists curl at his sides, jaw tight. He doesn’t say anything at first, just seethes.

“He’s still walking around like nothing happened?” he mutters, voice low and dangerous. She panics a little, tugging at his sleeve, already telling him not to do anything reckless.

“I’m not gonna kill him,” he says, but it sounds more like a promise to himself than to her. And yet with her, it’s different.

Mark isn’t soft by nature, but he’s steady. Protective. When she admits that she’s scared of dating again — scared that maybe this is just how love goes — he doesn’t laugh or dismiss her. He doesn’t rush her either. He just nods, quiet, and says, “Then we take it slow. No pressure.”

He doesn’t know how to say I’m proud of you without sounding gruff, so he shows it in little things — letting her vent without judgment, brushing her hand when she gets nervous, standing behind her like a wall when things feel overwhelming.

“If you ever feel like things are too much,” he says one night, “you can lean on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

And she believes him — not because he says the perfect words, but because he means them. Because no matter how messy things get, he’s not afraid of what comes with her healing. He’s not here for the version of her that smiles all the time — he’s here for all of it.“You’ve been through hell,” he says, brushing her cheek with his thumb, “but you’re still standing. That matters.”

SINISTER MARK

He’s not interested in healing her — not really. He’s interested in owning her. And the moment he learns about her past relationship, something cold and calculating flickers behind his eyes. “Oh, so that’s why you flinch when people raise their voice,” he mutters once, with a faint smirk. “Cute.”

He tracks down her ex — doesn’t say a word about it, doesn’t even seem angry — but the man disappears shortly after. And when she asks if he had anything to do with it, Mark only shrugs, indifferent. “Doesn’t matter. He won’t hurt you again.”

That should be comforting. But there’s something in his tone that makes it feel more like a threat. He starts slow. Subtle. He doesn’t berate her — not outright — but he plants seeds.

“You’re lucky I’m not like him, right?”

“You always get so emotional. Maybe that’s why he treated you like that.”

“You’d fall apart without me.”

And the twisted part is: he makes her feel loved. In his own warped way. He touches her gently after every cold word. He praises her just enough to make the insults feel like truth. He keeps her just high enough that she doubts the fall.

He never tells her she’s worthless — but he lets her believe she’s only safe in his orbit. That he is the upgrade, the savior, the one who knows her better than anyone else.

And when she finally catches on — when she’s staring in the mirror, trying to remember when she stopped recognizing herself — she’s already in love. Already tangled in him. Already his.

And that’s exactly how he likes it.

OMNI MARK

Mark wouldn’t make a grand show of it.

He wouldn’t shout, wouldn’t threaten — he’d just disappear for a few hours after finding out about the ex who hurt her. No costume. No fanfare. Just him, moving like a silent weapon across continents. When he returns, there’s blood on his knuckles, a shallow cut on his lip, and a calmness in his expression that makes her stomach twist. He doesn’t even bring it up unless she asks.

“He won’t be a problem anymore,” he says simply, wiping his hands on a towel, like he just finished fixing a car instead of ending someone’s life.

It’s terrifying. But also strangely… comforting. Because Mark is not a gentle man. He doesn’t pretend to be. But if he’s with her, it means she’s someone he’s chosen — someone he protects with the same ruthless force he uses to crush enemies.

He’s not soft about it. Not emotional. But sometimes, when she’s quiet or distant — still flinching from ghosts that aren’t there — he’ll wrap an arm around her and press a kiss to the top of her head.

“You don’t need to be afraid anymore,” he murmurs. And he means it. Because in his eyes, love isn’t just affection — it’s annihilation of anything that dares to harm what’s his.

VILTRUMITE MARK

Mark doesn’t need to raise his voice. His presence alone speaks louder than any threat ever could.

The first time someone dared mention her ex in a dismissive tone — just a joke, they said — Mark didn’t even blink. He just stepped forward, calm and composed, and stared them down with the kind of quiet that made the air hard to breathe. “No one disrespects her,” he said, tone even, almost cold. “Not in front of me. Not ever.”

He doesn’t give speeches. He doesn’t need to. The look in his eyes — the weight of centuries of Viltrumite power behind his silence — says everything.

And that reputation follows. People learn quickly that she’s off-limits. Not because she’s fragile. But because she’s his, and Viltrumite Mark doesn’t tolerate disrespect to what he considers sacred.

At home, though, he’s different. He listens. He learns how much the past hurt her, how much she’s trying to rebuild. He might not fully understand human fears — heartbreak, betrayal — but he wants to. For her.

“I can’t erase the past,” he tells her once, fingers brushing her cheek. “But I can make damn sure nothing like that touches you again.” And he means it — with all the terrifying, unwavering certainty that comes with being born a weapon, and choosing to love instead.

PRISONER MARK

Mark isn’t perfect—he’s rough around the edges, scarred inside and out, and built more for survival than softness. But with her, he tries. God, he tries so hard.

He knows what she’s been through. He sees it in the way she flinches at sudden changes in tone, the way she hesitates when she speaks her mind, like she’s bracing to be shut down. And it pisses him off—not at her, but at whoever made her feel that way.

He doesn’t always know what to say, but his actions scream louder than words ever could.

He’s patient, in his own way. He holds her tighter on bad nights. Doesn’t push when she pulls away. Lets her set the pace. And when she questions why he even stays—why he bothers—his voice goes low, serious.

“Because you deserve someone who doesn’t make you afraid to love again.”

He never calls what they have perfect, but it’s real. He brings her little things—stupid trinkets he finds, pieces of the outside world he knows she’ll like. Cooks for her when he can. Rests his scarred head in her lap, looking up at her like she’s the only soft thing left in his world.

He might’ve come from a place built on cruelty, but with her, he’s learning something else—what it really means to protect. To love. To be more than what he was made for.

TAG LIST ; @onlybatsyy

#mark grayson x reader #x reader #reader insert

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scorpioriesling · 1 day ago

Note

Could you please do a Bodhi x reader where he is tried of constantly being in Xadens shadow/number 2 to him. The reader shows him why he is her number 1. (Can be fluffy or smutty) Please and all the thank yous:)))

Never Second Best

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Bodhi x reader

Warning(s): angst, light implied smut at the end (pg-13)

Summary: After another particularly upsetting day, your boyfriend turns to you for comfort and reassurance -- in which you are more than happy to provide.

SR’s Note: Sorry for going MIA for almost two weeks -- I've had a lot on my plate! Also, big news: I'VE SURPASSED 1000 FOLLOWERS! Thank you all so so much! I never knew my writing would gain this much attention, and I'm so grateful for every follower, every like, comment, repost, and all the support overall. You are all truly the best! With that, I hope you enjoy this piece (it's my first one written in dual POVs and in first person)! xoxo

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Bodhi

I watched as Melgren spoke, the lines around his mouth twitching as the words tumbled out. He spoke professionally, efficiently; yet, the words that were echoing against the stone walls beyond were anything but.

"As I stated in the meeting prior -- our relations with the other isles must improve," he said, voice thick with irritation. "When we go war -- and we will go to war -- we must have allies set in place preemptively in order to solidify our chances of making it through. Hedotis would be the primary target, and we need to get them on the same page as quickly as possible."

My mind races, thinking of all the ways this could go sideways. I glance sidelong to my cousin, only to find his jaw tense and eyes narrowed.

"I completely agree," Colonel Aetos replies first, always eager to earn brownie points. I have to physically withhold my eyeroll, I never understand how Xaden does it. The calm, unflinching exterior always concealing any thoughts he may have. His lack of reaction in situations like these; honestly, it makes sense that the title of Duke was passed onto him and not me.

"What steps do you reccomend taking to ensure proper footholds in an alliance with the other provinces?" Duvera's voice sounds from the other side of the round table, and I tune back into the conversation. Melgren sighs, and once again, Aetos speaks up.

"We could always send someone they'd trust, someone higher ranking," he suggests, his beady eyes sliding to my cousin. "Someone they'd be familiar with, anyway."

Xaden stiffens, the vein in his arm bulging as he registers the incinuation.

"You think sending me to Hedotis is really the best option?" The question comes out more like a statement, and he holds Aetos' gaze. The slimy fucker simply shrugs, not giving a damn about our family history or what would come from this.

"I mean, your mother does live there, doesn't she?"

I study my cousin, the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. Registering the glint in his onyx eyes, I can see it: beyond that thick skull of his, he is surely pondering killing the Colonel.

Instead though, he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

"I don't think that's the best course of action."

The Colonel laughs incredulously, and I can't help but glare at him.

"Well, it's not up to you or I, is it? It's up to him." He gestures to Melgren, who is rubbing a stressed out hand over his jaw. Duvera chews on her lip, trying to formulate another plan while Kaori shifts uncomfortably beside her.

Suddenly, an idea pops into my mind -- not a great one, but a more suitable one nonetheless.

"Whatever you're thinking," Xaden says quietly, barely moving his mouth as he speaks. "Don't say it."

I forrow my brows as I look sidelong at him, and he meets my stare with a cautios look. I ignore it: he can read my mind, so he surely knows what's coming next.

Melgren and Aetos have begun debating when I step closer to the table, clearing my throat loudly in an attempt to capture the group's attention. Melgren quiets, and Aetos looks my way in irritation.

Finding my voice, I speak as confidently as possible.

"I'll go," I offer, my eyes finding Melgren's. He looks to me in a resigned sort of way, almost as though he wished I hadn't brought it up. Colonel Aetos snorts, looking to me incredulously.

"And, how will you wage an alliance with the Hedotian kingdom?" He says it with a raised brow. I glare at him.

"Well, Talia is my aunt afterall-"

Aetos laughs incredulously, cutting me off.

"This is rediculous! You can't tell me you really think you'd be able to talk them into an alliance just because of your relation to their queen, do you?"

Melgren raises a hand at this, and looking across the table I observe Kaori glaring at the Colonel as well.

"Let him speak, Colonel," Melgren requests, and the flustered male sinks back into his chair with a huff. He goes to far as to cross his arms when I begin talking again.

"I just felt that, since I am familiar with at least one member of their leadership," I give the Colonel a pointed look. "I'd be much better suited for the job."

Duvera looks back and forth as though she's considering the option when my cousin speaks from behind me.

"I don't feel comfortable sending you across seas to deal with my mother," he says lowly. I shake my head slowly, hoping he's reading my thoughts and will shut up. Clearly he isn't, as he continues on.

"I'll go. I'm familiar with the Isle, how to get there, and I know Sgael will be able to withstand the journey." Aetos claps his hands loudly, rising from his chair once more in delight.

"Fantastic plan, young sir. Just fantastic!" He claps again, his barking voice and flapping hands reminding me more of a harp seal than military commander. Melgren looks to me once more, indecision in his eyes.

"I believe myself capable of completing this mission," I interject, and Kaori looks to me in encouragement. "I wouldn't want to put any of you at risk, and I believe Cuir would do just fine-"

"Oh, pipe down, boy!" Colonel Aetos shouts, shaking his head disapprovingly in my direction. "Riorson is obviously a better choice, having familiarity with the land and with his title, he'd be sure to clench an alliance as opposed to...?" He shrugs. Rage swells within me, but before I let it loose I feel my cousin's hand on my shoulder as he steps beside me.

"My cousin," he finishes for the Colonel. "Bodhi is my cousin, and therefore within the Tyrrendor family line. He'd be a great candidate for this trip, however..." he pauses, his eyes meeting mine for a split second before he clears his throat. "I wouldn't put him through that. He's a fantastic officer and leader, and I have no doubt in him. However, this is something I'm directly involved in, and-"

"So, it's decided then!" Aetos interrupts for about the millionth time, and I feel the rage swelling into something else. Something black, inky and distant -- a feeling so common during high-ranking meetings like these.

"Melgren? Your decision?"

The General sighs deeply, looking down at the table and shaking his head. When he looks back up, his gaze full of pity -- I know exactly what his decision will be, and his final answer sends me straight through the front doors without another word.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Y/N

The rain is falling silently against my window, the gray sky providing a dull light as it fades through the space. I grin as I cap my pen, holding up the love letter I'd been decorating to view it before me. The small candle on my desk flickers its flame, and I lie my paper back down. The flame dances again, this time accompanied by a sudden rapping at my door.

I stand instantly, trotting over to the wooden panel in anticipation. Bodhi had his important meeting today, and with Sloane gone for the weekend, I'd requested he come by after. However, it hadn't been long since he'd initially left this morning -- I sure hope everything went alright.

I close my palm around the small golden knob, twisting and yanking it toward me. Sure enough, the handsome male stood on the other side.

I smile on instict, his presence always an excitement; but, that's when I notice his expression. His eyes are downcast, his brows in a permanent furrow. Small droplets of rain fall from his brown curls, and his arms are folded tightly across his chest in a way that seems unsettling. My face falls, I can feel it -- and I immediately feel more concerned than joyous.

"Bodhi? Is everything alright?"

He shakes his head slowly, barely glancing up to meet my eye. After a moment of silence, he answers back in a low whisper.

"No."

My heart sinks at this, the state he's in, the emotinoal turmoil. I step forward, my hand prying one of his folded ones from under his arm and I grasp it tightly.

"Hey, come on in here honey -- let's talk."

He barely steps forward, more of a staggering trip before he gathers me into his arms. My eyes widen in surprise as his head dips, his forehead resting on my shoulder as he bends down to reach me. He bares half his weight to me, sagging against me as his nose nuzzles my neck. He sighs heavily, his fingers clutching at my waist and pulling me as far into his chest as possible. I move to catch my balance, holding the both of us up as I wind my own arms around his neck.

"Oh Bodhi," I sigh, tears threatening the backs of my eyes. I hadn't expected the meeting to go so poorly, in fact, I expected good news -- he'd seemed to confident about it earlier this week. I can tell now as I run my fingers through his silky, chocolately curls that both of us were wrong to assume.

The threatening tears make their appearance as his body shakes softly against mine, and my lips turn downward. I try to force myself not to cry, especially when my boyfriend needs me in this moment to be strong for him. I sniffle softly, continuing to run my fingers through his dampened locks as he releases his emotions, the only sound in the room the soft patter of rain on the window.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Y/N

I wake three hours later, immediate gratification flooding my system at the body pressed against mine. The rain has since cleared, leaving a pale evening sky in its wake. Wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, I blink them open, happy when I realize I'm right. Bodhi sleeps soundlessly against me, his arms wrapped around my waist and his head resting against my abdomen. A thin trail of smoke wafts from my forgotten candle, my empty coffee cup sitting quietly beside it. My abandoned love letter rests atop the desk, the red lipstick prints glinting in the evening light. I'd be sure to give it to Bodhi later.

Turning my attention back to him, I smile softly, running my fingers through his hair once more. He stirrs, groaning groggily as he lifts his head.

Those eyes, those wonderfully brown eyes -- they meet mine in an instant, and a small smile curves the edges of his lips. His fingers give my waist a squeeze, and he nuzzles his face into my abdomen once more. His shoulders flex with the movement, and I can't help the involuntary heat wave headed straight to my core.

"Bodhi... baby," I tug lightly at his curls until he tilts his head, looking up into my eyes once more. He grins, and I can't help but giggle.

"Honey, we need to talk," I plead, and he sighs, his pointer finger tracing the line of exposed skin between my top and shorts. I chuckle, swatting his tickles away playfully. His hand reaches up, thumb brushing over my cheek and I can't help but blush.

"About what, baby?"

I roll my eyes, turning to press a kiss against the pad of his finger.

"You know what," I suggest, and he brushes his thumb across my lips once more. When he pulls it back, he examines the paint he picked up, marvelling at the color.

"About... how much I love this new color you've been wearing lately?" He asks innocently. I sigh, sitting up and retracting from his grasp. He moves to sit before me, and I give him a knowing look.

He runs a hand through his mass of curls, finally giving up.

"Ughhh... fine." He resigns, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. I sit quietly, expectantly, as he gathers his thoughts and presents them to me.

"So... I'm sure you gathered that the meeting went horribly today," he begins, looking down at his lap as he explains. He walks me through the meeting, and I suddenly hold up a hand to pause him.

"Wait -- Aetos said you shouldn't go because you're family, yet he was so quick to offer up Xaden instead?"

Bodhi throws his hands up, looking to me in laughter.

"Exactly! Makes no sense. Now, let me finish the story."

He finishes explaining his day responsible for his sour mood, and I listen intently, even when he gets to the point of simply ranting.

"I just never understand it, you know -- it's like nothing I do is enough, or will ever be enough to match my cousin." He sighs, ruffling his hair. "Every time I offer myself up, or try to do something useful, I'm always second best, and-"

"Hey hey hey," I interrupt, leaning forward to take his hands in mine. His fingers are cold, and I press them between my two palms. "You are never, second best. I can assure you of that."

He huffs, looking away again. "I am though, I'm not a Duke, I have no title, I'm simply the younger cousin, and-"

I cut him off, leaning forward to press my lips to his. He immediately stops talking, his skin melting into mine like butter. The taste of rainwater lingering there, his earthy scent -- it's damn near intoxicating.

I move my lips against his, and his hands tug from my grasp in favor of threading through my hair. I sigh against his mouth, only reaching up after a few moments to push back lightly against his chest.

"You're never second best," I reassure, my eyes meeting his. His brown orbs soften at my words, and I give him a small peck before continuing. "Not to me, and surely not to anyone else." Another peck, and it has him leaning in for more. I move to straddle his lap, hating how wet I've become in a matter of minutes. I'll forgive myself though; his bulge presses against the soft cotton of my shorts.

"You've always been number one in my book -- maybe I just need to give you a little reminder?"

He chuckles, grinning wide before tugging my lips back to his. He kisses hungrier this time, devouring my lips with his as though he could never get enough of me. The soft groan is confirmation enough as I purposefully grind my hips atop his, the pressure between the two of us mounting. His teeth playfully toy with my bottom lip, and I only push him back when his fingers begin to trail beneath my shirt.

His back hits the mattress, his darkened eyes gazing up at me in anticipation. I grin, reaching down to tug at the waistband of my shorts.

"I'm always happy to remind you, just how number one you are to me, Bodhi."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#bodhi x oc #bodhi durran #bodhi x reader #bodhi fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing smut #fourth wing #the empyrean #iron flame imagine #iron flame #onyx storm #read more

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cha-melodius · 1 day ago

Text

I'm kind of in the doldrums where I feel like I've shared too much and people are getting tired of me teasing the same fic, hence I've been absent again. But I decided to share another snippet today because I'm realizing there's no way I'm gonna finish this sucker before I leave to go on vacation, so it'll be a little while more until it's here. Thank you to everyone who's been patiently waiting, it's looking like June if things go well. In the mean time, please have a bit of thirsting and banter.

“Where on earth did you get these things?” Henry asks, gesturing to Alex’s clothes. He’s not sure what he expected Alex to ride in today, frankly. Perhaps his jeans and cowboy boots—most of the other guest riders wear their regular gear along with the team-issued polo shirt provided by the club. “You like ‘em?” Alex says with a shit-eating grin as he—lord help Henry—turns sideways to show off the breeches and boots. Just the side profile of his arse is ruinous. “I got Ariat to send me a pair of boots. Told them I’d post about it on Instagram. Dunno when else I’ll ever wear them, but maybe I’ll go as a jockey for Halloween this year.” “You’re short enough for it,” Henry returns automatically. “Hey,” Alex chokes out on a laugh and socks him in the shoulder. “I take it back, I didn’t miss you.” “You did, though.” “Unfortunately. But you missed me too,” Alex says over his shoulder as he starts walking past Henry deeper into the barn. “Don’t try to deny it.”

Thank you to @pippinoftheshire, @justabigoldnerd, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @suseagull5914, and @onthewaytosomewhere for the tags today, and @alasse9, @14carrotghoul, @iboatedhere, @firenati0n and @welcometololaland for tags in the last couple of weeks. I'm not tagging anyone else because it's late now and not Wednesday for much longer, but consider this an open tag if you want it!

#wip wednesday #my wips #rwrb #rodeo/polo au #this mf STILL does not have a title i am in despair

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kaliforniahigh · 1 day ago

Note

Hello! I come with angst ideas for Ex Husband!Noah.

So.

For context they’re still married at this point.

Ezra’s school is putting on a show (like an end of the school year or a Christmas show?) and he’s like SUUUPER excited about it.

He’s been practicing his lines every day. He only has a small part but he doesn’t care.

Noah promises he’s going to be there but he’s not home yet when it’s time to leave to head to the school to watch it.

You take your seat and there’s an empty one beside you.

The show starts and Noah still isn’t there.

You can’t help but notice the devastation in Ezra’s face that’s mixed with hope as he watches the door at the back just in case he comes in.

You confront Noah when you’re home.

LOVE YOU! And love this au!

Wow, you really came through with this angst!!! I love this so much. I feel like even though Noah is a great dad, sometimes, parents just slip and end up doing not nice things. I'd say this is definitely something that haunts Noah to this day. Especially because he's had to miss more school plays and events due to his job.

Anyway, here's a little something about how this went down when they were still married. Thanks agains for sending this in <3 Love ya!!!!

Warnings: me not knowing how school plays work lol angst, exwife is a little angry, but things end as well as they can.

WC: 2.5k words. (not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes!)

Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.

You were honestly grateful Ezra's school play was happening today. Even though you loved how excited and happy he was about it, getting to hear a play by play on how theater practice is going kind of took a toll on you. You'd never tell him this, though, so you'd just let the kid ramble on for hours on end.

"And that's because he's the tree. Which is unmovable and has no lines. Imagine if he gets a main role one day", Noah pointed out once, as you were laying in bed at the end of the day.

"At least he's dedicated. Main role or not", you said. "I bet he's gonna be the best unmovable tree, though"

"Of course he is. He's my son and we don't do things half assed", you snorted at this because it's absolutely true. Noah went above and beyond even for things with little significance at the and of the day, and you expected your son to be no different.

Right now, you were getting ready to attend the school play. You had dropped off Ezra early at school, so him, the other kids, and the teachers could get everything ready on time, and make sure all the kids were set.

You had agreed with Noah to meet him there, since he had band practice and it would run a little bit late and he wouldn't have time to come home and get ready with you.

It was nearing 6pm and you texted him saying you'd leave in about twenty minutes, and you'd save him a seat beside you for when he arrived.

When you got no answer, you thought it was odd, but didn't dwell on it too much. He must be busy at the moment and couldn't check his phone.

You grabbed your stuff and headed out, texting him on the way to the school once again.

Still no answer.

You waited until you were parked at the school parking lot to call him, instead of texting, but it just went straight to voicemail. You decided to leave him a message.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm already here. Are you on your way? Text me when you can"

Hanging up the phone, you had a strange feeling pooling in your belly, but you pushed it aside. He was gonna be here. He had to be here. Ezra was talking about this school play for weeks, there's no way Noah wouldn't be here for it.

Locking your car, you made your way to the school theater. Finding a place towards the front, you sat down and placed your bag on the seat beside you.

The play would start in about forty minutes, and during that time, you guess you've called Noah more than ten times. At this point, you were getting agitated, a nervousness settled deep in your stomach, and you started to get antsy.

When the lights dimmed, and the music started to play, it dawned on you. Noah wasn't coming.

Trying one more time, and still without success, you decided you wouldn't call him again.

Your mind went a hundred miles a minute, thinking about all of the things that could've happened that would prevent Noah from being here. You even though about the worst case scenarios, but brushed it off as soon as it came to your mind. Bad new traveled fast, and if something had happened to him, you'd surely know by now.

Ezra came into play, his little face poking through a hole in the tree costume, and you smiled when he spotted you in the crowd. You could see his face turn into a frown though, when he noticed his father was not sitting beside you. You just waved at him, trying to act nonchalant.

Throughout the play, you'd be lying to say you were paying attention. You didn't know if you felt anger, concern or disappointment. You guess it was a mixture of all three.

About thirty minutes into the play, you turned your phone brightness all the way down, so people wouldn't notice you on your phone, and decided to text Ruffilo.

You: Hey, Nick. You know where Noah is?

You waited a few minutes for his replay. Heart beating fast.

Ruff: Hey, Y/N.

Ruff: Yeah, we're hanging at Matt's place. I think Noah's phone is dead, though.

Ruff: You wanna talk to him?

You stared at the text messages in complete disbelief. He was hanging at Matt's place? Hanging with his buddies instead of being here for his son?

You'd love to know what excuse he'd come up with.

You: Not really. Just let him know he's missing his son's school play.

You locked your phone, and you could tell the play was about to wrap up, as the main characters delivered the last lines, and in a couple of minutes, everyone was standing up and clapping, as the kids bowed on stage.

You felt your phone vibrate and looked at the screen.

Ruff: Shit.

Shit indeed, you thought to yourself, as you sat down once again to wait for Ezra to come and find you. He just had to take his costume off and change back into his clothes.

It didn't take long before he appeared on the side of the stage, one of the teachers holding his hand as he looked for you. Standing up, you waved, and he came walking towards you as soon as he spot you.

He came walking. Not running, as you expected.

"Where's daddy?", he asked you, as you crouched down to his level. He had a deep frown on his face.

"Hi, baby", you greeted him, smoothing his hair that was growing to be long like his father's. "Daddy got sick, sweetheart. He couldn't be here. I'm sorry"

You hated lying to Ezra, and you didn't do it often at all, if ever. But, this time, you guess it would be better to not tell him the truth, instead of saying his father completely forgot about his school play.

"What does daddy have?", Ezra asked.

"I think it's just a stomach bug, buddy. He'll be fine soon, don't worry", you reassured him, but his demeanor didn't change, or get better.

"Can we go home? I'm tired", he said, reaching his arms up for you, and you picked him up. You couldn't help but notice he was getting too big for you to carry him, and you'd soon had to stop.

"Of course we can", you said, threading your fingers through his hair, as he laid his head down on your shoulder.

You wanted to cry. You hated seeing your son sad.

Walking with him to the parking lot, a bunch of parents were walking to their own cars with their kids, and you greeted some of them on the way, recognizing them as parents from Ezra's class.

Strapping him in his booster seat, you got in the driver's seat yourself and started the drive home.

Observing him through the inside rearview mirror, you noticed that halfway home, Ezra dozed off and took a nap.

There's no way he'd eat something, or take a bath, before going to bed today.

Arriving home, you took him in your arms once again, struggling with the key to the door a little, but finally able to get it open. You walked with him to his bedroom, setting him on his bed, where he sat, rubbing his eyes and looking extra sleepy.

"You wanna eat something?", you asked, and he shook his head no. "A warm bath?", he shook his head no once again. "Ok, then, I know you're tired, so tonight, you can go straight to bed"

Walking towards his dresser, you opened the pajama drawer.

"You want the dinosaur, or the robots pajama?"

"Dinosaur"

You nodded and grabbed the dinosaur pajama and helped him into them, and in no time, he was snuggled under the blanket. You waited a few minutes, until his breaths evened out and you were sure he had fallen asleep.

While you waited, you heard the front door open, so you got up from your spot on the bed, closed the door behind you, and made your way to the living room.

You stopped in your tracks when you spotted Noah locking the door behind him. Turning around to face you, you swear you've never seen a guiltier face in you entire life.

"Y/N...", he started, but you cut him off. Much to his dismay, you had a lot of time to simmer in your anger on the drive back home.

"I honestly don't even wanna look at you right now. Let alone hear whatever stupid excuse you're gonna come up with", you told him, coldness and a tinge of anger seeping into your voice. He can tell you're holding back on him.

"I don't have an excuse", he said, looking down, and when he looked back at you, you could see his watery eyes reflecting in the lights coming from outside the window.

"I don't know if that's better or worse", you pointed out.

"I just", he said, taking a long breath. "I just forgot. I don't know what happened, but I just forgot"

You don't know if you should feel any better about his honesty and the fact that he didn't try to come up with a false reason for not being there.

"You forgot about the play he's been telling us about for the past, I don't know, month?", you question him, incredulous.

"I just forgot, ok? I don't know what else to say", he told you, visibly getting frustrated at the situation and at himself.

"You don't get to be fucking angry and pissy here, alright?", you say, trying not to raise your voice, pointing a finger at him. "You're lucky I'm even giving you the time of day so you can explain yourself"

You don't give him a chance to reply, as you start to make your way to the kitchen to grab your nightly glass of water. You can hear him trailing behind you, though.

"I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to forget about it", his voice was meek and a little shaky.

"It's not me you should be apologizing for. It's your son", you grab your glass of water and start to make your way to your shared bedroom, when you stop in your tracks and turn back to him. "I told him you were sick. So, when he asks, just go with the story"

This time, you disappear down the hallway to your bedroom.

You go through you nighttime routine and Noah doesn't come in the bathroom, or in the bedroom. He knows to give you some space and time when you're angry. Especially when you're angry at him.

You turn off the lamp and slip under the blankets, but sleep doesn't find you so easily. Instead, you toss and turn in bed, and, as you lay there, you slowly start to feel the anger slipping away from your bones.

Tomorrow is gonna be a new day, and you couldn't hold this over his head forever, anyway.

After ten more minutes, the door opens and Noah comes into the bedroom. He quietly does his thing in the bathroom, and changes into his sleep clothes. He doesn't say anything, even though he can tell you're awake.

It's when he lays down in bed with you, that it all comes crashing down.

It starts off with quiet sniffles, that soon turn into full body sobs, as he tries to even out his breath and wipe the tears from his eyes.

You come out of mom mode, and instead, you decide to be the partner he needs right now.

Turning on your side, you wrap your arms around him, and he rests his head on your shoulder, his cries not letting up.

"I'm such a shitty father. How can I fucking forget my son's school play?"

"You're not a shitty father. What happened today wasn't nice, but it doesn't define you as a father", you tell him, honestly, but you can tell it's gonna take more for him to understand that.

"Yes, I am. I try so hard to not fuck up but it happens anyways. Maybe it runs in the family, and you're probably wondering why you even had a kid with me in the first place"

This time, you sit up in bed, and you prompt him to sit up with you. Taking his head in your hands, you make him look you in the eye. His tear-stained face looks back at you, as fresh tears still slip down his cheeks.

"That's something I won't tolerate", you tell him, with a firm, but gentle tone. You needed him to understand this. "I never thought twice about having a baby with you, and I wouldn't think twice about having another one", you said, taking a few seconds for him to comprehend your words. "Again, this does not define you as a father, and, honestly? This is not the only shitty thing that'll happen. We have Ezra's whole life ahead of us, and we're bound to mess up from time to time. But what matters is that we're trying. And we're doing damn well so far"

He's calmed down by now, as he listens to what you're saying. You've always had the ability to ease his nerves, even in situations like this.

"Ezra is so loved by both of us, this was just a little bump on the road, ok?", you asked and he nodded.

"Thank you", he said, voice low and throat raspy from the force of his cries.

"You don't have to thank me. You know I love you forever, right? And we're doing this together"

"I love you so much", he intertwined his hands with yours and kissed the back of your hand. "Can Ezra sleep with us tonight?", he asks and you nod in agreement.

"Go get him. He'll love to see you"

As Noah left the bedroom to get Ezra, you thought over the events of today.

You knew what happened was far from ideal, but like you told Noah, it does not reflect who he is as a father. Besides, shit is bound to happen, and you're sure you're going to mess up as well sometime in the future. It was all about how you decided to handle it. And you handled it like you and Noah always did. Together.

A few minutes later, Noah comes back with a drowsy, but happy looking Ezra in his arms. And, as they both lay down, with the little on in the middle, Ezra turns to you and whispers.

"Daddy's not feeling so great tonight, mommy. So I'll cuddle him with him instead of you, ok?", he asks, and you get a little amused.

"That's fine, baby", you agree, heart swelling with pride at how considerate and kind your son is.

And that's how you fall asleep. Ezra tucked under Noah's arm that is stretched under his son's head, caressing your hair softly, a silent apology, as you look at him, giving a smile and a little nod, telling him you're accepting it.

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#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian imagine #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens angst #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian angst #exhusband!noah #exwife!reader #noah thoughts #ask #requested #Pale Violet Red DB7093

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