#want to go back after 2 weeks and do it all over again

[hot-patootiee]

Part 3

part 2 here. I’m writing these like right after my Calc BC exam and I have a killer headache but fuck it we ball. Aka Steve is not the only one to obtain brain damage because of an ex.

Don’t worry about the headache, I’m having a special gummy and chilling.

…

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He finds a note on the nightstand.

Had to go to work, see you later

-Steve

An idea forms in his head on what to do to help apologize. Steve’s constant complaints about the big empty house he lived in. How he wished Robin or Eddie could stay forever.

Eddie was still a little unsure. It would be quite an assumption to make. He would probably have to talk to Robin during her break and see if she would also be on board and if she thought it was a good idea.

But, he knew Steve would be ecstatic to have people he cared about close by. Eddie couldn’t help but remember the nights he was woken up from Steve calling to make sure he was alive.

It would suck moving away from Wayne, but Eddie figured that taking the relationship too serious would be better than not taking it serious enough.

Eddie decided that despite just waking up at this unholy hour (11 am), he would go see Robin and brief her on his plan.

When he got to family video, luckily, Steve was working in the back and Robin sat at the desk.

She perked up as soon as she saw him.

“Eddie I messed up.” Robin stumbles out with a groan.

Eddie waits for her to continue.

“I didn’t know that Steve thought you two were dating. He’s been talking about you for weeks and I never noticed.” Robin whines again, head dropping shamefully.

“I have just the thing.” And just like that Robin is up again.

“Really?” Robin exclaimed, jumping on her toes as she leaned against the counter. Eddie personally didn’t think Robin could show this much emotion, but with Steve’s stories, it doesn’t really surprise him.

“Do you think Steve would be on board with us living with him?”

“He’s been asking me to forever, it’s just my parents give me crap for moving in with a single man.” Robin replied plainly, hints of resentment lacing her voice.

“Well you’re 18 and therefore you make your own decisions. Do you want to move in with him?” Eddie probes and Robin smiles at him in return.

She nods hard, making her hair bounce with the stiff jerks of her head.

“I want to do something else too.” Eddie mutters.

Robin seems a little suspicious as she says “Good idea, but why?”

“This is kinda both a burden and a blessing. Steve’s been wanting it for a while, but it ultimately gives him more work to do.” Eddie points ponders slowly. He rolls over potential actions in his mind, seeing how smoothly they work before coming to a conclusion.

“Maybe just a nice night. Steve gets headaches and weed might help him relax. Or He’s been talking about hosting a game night forever, we could take care of everything and just let him relax.” Eddie shrugs, thinking through different dinner options and possibilities of what Steve would like.

“Ask Steve if there’s anything you can do to make his life easier. He’s selfless by nature so there’s probably something you’ve been doing that he doesn’t like.” Robin replies coolly. She then winces. “I should probably stop putting my feet on his dash.” She murmurs in a guilty tone.

“That’s a good idea.” Eddie nods.

“I gotta pack my shit, I’ll help you pack yours, you help with mine?” Robin inquires. The way she bats her eyes might’ve seemed flirty to anyone else, but it was evidently just effective manipulation. Because Eddie knew unless he was throwing all his shit out the window, she would immediately get bored and ditch him for a German dictionary.

News flash: she did.

…

Steve surprisingly did not get impatient as time trudged on. Eddie searched his face for any mark of displeasure, but failed to find any.

But, apparently Eddie just wasn’t the one seeing it. Something about Steve had changed a little bit, instead of backing down when challenged, he just dug his heels in. It reminded Eddie of the Steve in the upside down.

Allegedly Steve had been driving all the kids down to the new diner. Mike had been skeptical about Steve’s directions and had started loudly declaring that he had gone the wrong way.

“It’s not like you’re the intellectual authority on anything Steve.”

The breaks were hit so fast that all the boys jerked forward with the sudden stop.

According to Dustin Steve then yelled “WELL I AM THE AUTHORITY OF THIS GODDAMN CAR, GET OUT IF YOU HAVE AN ISSUE!”

Steve waited a few beats and when nobody moved, put down the parking break and the engine whined slightly as Steve shifted into first a little too violently and pulled out.

Mike was scared so badly that he just sat there petrified for the rest of the ride.

So, Steve was evidently frustrated.

Eddie went to visit Steve immediately after hearing what happened. When he found him, Steve was grumbling on his bed. Obviously still peeved about earlier, every few seconds he would reflexively rub his temples.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed Eddie.

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just pulled out a joint and handed it to Steve, who took it apprehensively.

“It helps with headaches.” Eddie weakly justifies, but it seems to be enough to convince Steve, who then leans forward and sticks his hand in Eddie’s pocket and extracts a lighter.

He lights the joint with little fanfare, like he was just having his third daily cigarette. He breathes it in easily before expelling the smoke through his pursed lips.

“This is a little different.” Steve comments, slightly more relaxed at the promise of a high that the joint brought.

“I swapped seeds with Argyle, I had sativa, he had indica. What you’re smoking, just indica, apparently argyle is trying to get the hybrid strain.” Eddie says in a blasé tone as he climbs into Steve’s bed.

“What’s the difference?” Steve asked before taking another hit, longer this time.

“It’s supposed to relax you more. Less high, but more relaxing.” Eddie loosely explains.

Steve hogs the joint a little, but Eddie honestly thinks he deserves it. When Steve finally plops his head on Eddie’s lap, he gets an idea.

Eddie sinks his fingers into Steve’s hair and slowly begins to massage his head. Steve immediately melted into it, muscles straining occasionally when Eddie dragged his fingers especially hard at a tender spot.

Conversation became less frequent as Eddie pushed his fingers into Steve’s jaw and massaged the tense muscles there. Steve made the occasional noise, a grunt or a strange trill that he seemed to find incredibly funny.

The tension and brewing migraine seemed to have completely melted off Steve, leaving him tired and happy. He giggled through half lidded eyes and smiled impossibly wide when Eddie left and came back with reheated leftover pizza from Steve’s fridge.

Eddie struggled not to focus on Steve’s face, his gaze traced Steve’s wide smile and the sparkle in his dark eyes.

“Kis’me” the words came from Steve with a slight lisp. An unwavering smile still plastered on his face.

Eddie obliged because honestly how could he not?

The movement caused Eddie’s face to feel like firecrackers were going off on his skin. The tingling sensation danced across his skin, warmth blooming from where Steve and him met.

Eddie couldn’t focus, incredibly overwhelmed by the assault on his senses of different textures and pressures. The plushness of Steve’s lips contrasted with the lean muscle Eddie’s fingers dug into.

Eddie pulled away when his lungs went tingly from lack of air. He giggled as Steve and him stayed close, puffing out breaths of air right next to eachother.

“Wish you could stay all the t’me.” Steve yawned out, stretching his back slightly like a cat and dipping further into Eddie’s personal space.

“I can.” Eddie replies firmly.

“Really?” Steve is smiling again, so wide that Eddie was worried it might hurt from pulling his lips.

“How’d you like that? I move in with you, maybe Robin too.”

Steve trills, making soft stringy vocalizations at Eddie’s proposal. Steve nearly seems to glow at the proposition.

“Youu move ‘n tomorrow?” Steve’s muscles jump erratically in excitement, his knees tapping and jerking like he can’t control it.

“If you still want me to in the morning.” Eddie whispered, stroking Steve’s hair.

…

When morning came, Eddie woke gently, the after effects of the high still cradling him and making him relaxed.

Unfortunately it didn’t last long as he heard a shrill whistle and the telltale thump of something falling and Robin’s witchlike giggles. Eddie reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and found the hallway scattered with boxes. He turned the corner and Will and El were both there, but not to make things easier. El had a little whistle she was happily blowing whenever someone passed her. Will seemed conflicted on whether he found it funny or entirely too disrespectful for him to take part in.

Unfortunately, the first time El did this, it scared Robin so badly that she nearly threw a box of her own clothes down the stairs.

And there Robin was, clothes halfway out of the box and engulfing her upper body. Steve was laughing his socks off which promptly led to a fistful of clothes being thrown in his face.

Eddie quickly decided he wanted nothing to do with this and quietly made his way back to Steve’s room.

Best to act like he didn’t know them for a few more hours.

…

When Eddie finally arose at a normal time (11:30am) he found Robin setting up the room across from Steve with her stuff.

“Heya birdie.”

Robin glared at him.

“I talked it over with Steve, he’s apparently thrilled enough to forgive me only after I cook gnocchi.”

Eddie makes a half confused noise.

“Potato pasta.” Robin paused. “And you’re helping.” Robin asserts, making Eddie grumble.

Eddie leaves without seeing Steve, opting to also grab his shit to move to Steve’s house. Luckily, he and Robin had already boxed up a majority of the room.

It was probably a good thing he’s moving, Wayne’s back couldn’t take the couch springs much longer.

He packed his boxes into the van, the summer sun making his sweat so much he was forced to change into one of his sleeveless tops.

When he arrived back at Steve’s the kitchen had been fully commandeered by Robin who was peeling steaming potatoes with her fingers. Eddie didn’t get more of a glance as he began moving his stuff upstairs, abandoning it in the hallway because he was a little unsure what room Steve would want him in.

During one of his trips back down to his van, Steve finally appeared. He was sitting next to the counter and stealing potato bits from Robin as she worked. He looked at home in his own house for the first time in a while. His eyes traced Robin carefully as she worked as if she’d disappear. When Steve noticed Eddie, his eyes immediately flicked over to him.

“Which room should I move my stuff in?” Eddie asked with false casualness.

“Mine.”

Steve made no move to help, which was honestly something Eddie fully expected. Instead Steve bounced his feet on the floor with a smile and stuffed another crumbling bit of potato into his mouth. Eddie had apparently failed to realize the two little gremlins sitting in Steve’s shadow. Will and Eleven similarly shoving potato bits into their mouths.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at Steve’s happiness.

…

Later that night, with boxes still artfully scattered around the second floor, a train of children entered the house. Each carried either a food item to contribute or a housewarming present.

Max grumbled as she handed Steve the Apple pie that had evidently been made by the Sinclairs, judging by the streak of flower on the back of Lucas’s shirt.

Eddie was setting up ‘a game of things’ which he knew from experience would always wonderfully devolve into Regan jokes and idiocy.

Steve got to sit and relax as Eddie and Robin hosted the party, letting him play with the kids and receive their guilty apologies. Since they were still kids, Steve forgave them. Heck, he was way more self absorbed and dickish at their age.

When Eddie finished, he dropped behind Steve, putting his hands on Steve’s shoulders and beginning to rub into the tense muscles. Steve twitched occasionally when Eddie hit a knot, but otherwise seemed pretty content.

“Your metal music gives me headaches.” Steve says suddenly. “You play it too loud and it hurts.”

“Then I’ll turn down the music. You’ll never get a headache from it again.” Eddie affirms.

Steve just hums.

“I forgive you.”

Steve paused for a moment.

“But that doesn’t mean you can stop massaging me.” Steve snapped, head lolling back until it met Eddie’s arms.

AN: have a head massage while high, it’s the best thing ever.

Also, I just don’t understand grand gestures of love, they never made me feel good. Like thanks for the stuffed animal and candies, kinda doesn’t make up for you being a dick about my dead dog. How about you instead like make something that takes time and actually shows you give a shit or go out of your way to give me a good night. I don’t understand the fall in love fast thing a lot of people do. I cultivate my love by the light of the hearth, not the light of a firecracker.

Ps. If you want me to do a follow up where Nancy and him talk. Just let me know. It’s just I didn’t really see her as central part of this story. Thought it would be better to highlight the kids, Robin, and Eddie.

Tags @stripey82 @genderfluidbitch @mensch-anthropos-human @c4tharsys @scoops-aboy86 @breealtair @raleighrox @wannabe-edgy-grandpa @flustratedcas @shoujo-wizard @polysdoitforscience @exasperatedsighohmy @piemaker93 @tinyplanet95 @skepticalqueen @sharingisntkaren @scarletyeager @crypticcrytid @midnightskeeper @wheneverfeasible @ancientwormcivilization @fucjinf-whatever-dude @estrellami-1 @queenofshenanigans @grilledcheesehasfeelings <- get out of my walls

@ellietheasexylibrarian @live-laugh-love-dietrich @turinspeachjam @me-ig7 @revevivant @motherofpirates @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @samsoble @legalmenace87 @thehanwen @bigspongey @thedragonsaunt @newagemyth @pentapoctopus @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @bumbledoubletea @blackbirdflyflyfly @what-if-a-dragon @reddiandbyler4life @i-think-i-thunk @gregre369 @fiddledeedee85 @ladykailitha

You know the drill, rest of the tags in the comments.

[written-in-knife]

@jadecat4 On it🫡

Blessed

Riddle, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia

Written with fem!reader in mind, can be read as any gender, literal hurt/comfort, swearing, kinda fluffy

tw: graphic descriptions of injuries, getting hit by vehicles, and hit and runs

Average around 650 words per character

pt.1 :: pt.2 :: pt.3 coming soon

Rounding out the housewardens, most of these dudes are canonical crybabies, I'm so excited lmaoo These are actually really fun to write? I'm most likely going to do more of these for everybody else, so stay tuned for that I guess. Also I'm a tags yapper if yall have any interest in my commentary

Riddle Rosehearts

It took you a long time of dating Riddle to convince him to leave campus with you. He had responsibilities, an entire dormitory of students to keep an eye on, he couldn't do that if he left campus with you. He only agreed to it after midterms were over and after you got Trey to promise he would uphold the set standards for a single evening. Even then, it was hard to get him to leave.

"My love, we're going to dinner, not on vacation." You teased as he went over his list with Trey for a fourth time. "Trey promised he would call if anything goes wrong, you'd be back here in fifteen minutes at most."

"I-I know!" He stammered, cheeks flushing at your light tone. "I just want to be sure."

He was able to get through the list once more before you pulled him out the door, Trey giving him a friendly shove on the way out. It's not as if the two of you had never been on dates before, but they were smaller affairs around the campus, never out in public. He was surprised to find that it was actually much more relaxed off campus, not having to fear any ridicule or drop in reputation from strangers he would never see again if he did something especially embarrassing in his lovestruck state. And you made it incredibly easy to be lovestruck. You were well aware at this point of his aversion to PDA, which made it all the more surprising when he was the one to reach out and grab your hand after you'd left the restaurant. You chatted idly about the food, your week, the weather, anything that popped into your heads as you started back towards campus. It was all incredibly easy with you.

You made it into a more residential area, watching a group of young kids playing basketball at a hoop just off the sidewalk. Riddle pointed out one of the kids, joking that he reminded him of Ace as he made the shot and missed, sending the ball bouncing away. You stifled a laugh as you watched the boy chase after the ball into the road. It was clear the kid wasn't paying attention to anything but the ball as a car came speeding down the road. You were behind the kid before you even realized what you were doing, the driver of the car laying on the horn, trying to swerve out of the way, to slam on the brakes as you shoved the kid forward as hard as you could. Riddle watched in horror as the car knocked you to the ground, stopping on top of you, one of your arms pinned under the tire and only your head and shoulders sticking out from beneath. He ran to you, ignoring the crying child who ran back towards the house, and stooped down to try to see your injuries. The car started to back up, dragging you across the road as it did, the tire rolling off your elbow with a sickening crunch. He shouted for them to stop as your blood smeared across the road between you, but they couldn't hear him. Or maybe didn't care. The best he could do for you was grab you under the arms to keep you from dragging further. Once the car had backed up enough to see you again, they spun the wheel and hit the gas, planning to leave. Riddle instinctively flung a spell at them, hitting the back passenger side door and only resulting in them driving faster. He so badly wanted to chase after them, make sure they were brought to justice, but he couldn't just leave you. He was very careful in how he rolled you over, supporting your head and trying his best to keep your arm still. He had to see your injuries, he had to see what he needed to fix. Your face had slammed into the pavement from the force at which you were knocked down, your nose clearly shattered, a still growing goose egg on your forehead, skin was ripped and flayed from where you were dragged across the rough surface, and your elbow... He wasn't sure how to fix something so incredibly crushed, nearly unrecognizable. But he had to try. He tried to triage what looked the most life threatening, the head injury of course. It was hard to see where he was aiming as he kept trying to blink tears away. In the time it took him to think through his plan, your body had settled. He was about to start his spell when there was another chilling crunch, moving his hands to see your nose repositioning itself, the goose egg shrinking, the road rash weaving shut. Your eyes were open.

All he could do was watch, frozen, as you sat up and turned to him, your injuries all but gone by the time your hands landed on his shoulders. You were saying something to him, he couldn't make out the words over the relieved sobbing coming out of his mouth. You pulled him into your arms, holding him tight and close as he clung to you. Even upon returning to the dorm, he didn't let go of your hand-- PDA be damned-- as he dragged you to his room. You weren't going to be leaving his side for a bit while he processed what happened, and with him so close, you really didn't mind.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul often bribed you to accompany him to town to meet with his vendors, promising to get you whatever you wished if you simply kept him company. You didn't need to be bribed to spend time with him, but if it made him feel better about asking, you weren't about to stop him. It was always fun spending time with him, especially when you were able to introduce him to new things. The first time you suggested boba was a treat to watch as his expression went through several stages of confusion before eventually coming to the conclusion that he did, in fact, enjoy it.

This time he took you for smoothies after meeting with his final vendor. You tried to always keep your requests from going too far out of the way and this one was just across the street. You listened intently to him talk about a new drink he wanted to serve at the lounge, an affogato. Apparently Floyd had read about it online and demanded to try it. He talked about how it ended up being quite enjoyable as he reached into the pocket of his jacket, trailing off as he reached into the other. You watched him pat around at his pockets for a second before groaning, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, my pearl, I think I left my wallet..." He sighed heavily.

"No, you had it when we left." You reminded him. "You probably just left it across the street. Save our spot, I'll go get it."

You gave him a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, stopping any argument he may have had and running out of the building before he could come up with a new one. He chuckled at your antics and shook his head, watching you jog up to the street for a moment before turning back to the menu to see what he would want. While examining the menu, he heard a loud gasp and a "holy shit" from other patrons. He was going to ignore it when he heard one of them say "they hit somebody and they're just gonna drive away?!" Azul's head snapped around so fast, he worried he may strain something, until he looked out the large windows past the worried patrons. He couldn't see much, but he did spot hair that looked far too similar to yours. In the road. His heart dropped, and he silently begged that it wasn't you as he bolted out of the shop to the scene of the accident. His resolve nearly shattered as he approached. It was you. Broken limbs and torn skin and so much blood crumpled in the middle of the road. He barely thought about it as he ran forward, stammering out healing spells to try to fix it. He would do anything, pay any price, for this to not be happening, not be real. He tried so hard to choke down the sobs in his throat to keep working on you, because it was working! Skin was stitching back together, bones were popping back into place... He wasn't doing this. He pulled his hands away as he watched you grab your own mangled arm, shaking it out like a dish rag to pop the bones back into their correct place, groaning only slightly as you did. He was still choking back sobs as you sat up and turned to him.

"So, what flavor are you getting?"

The question stopped everything dead in its tracks, the tears, his shaking, his breath. He just stared blankly at you for a moment before he broke out laughing at the ridiculousness, which quickly devolved into crying. You apologized quickly, picking the both of you off the ground to just go home. He didn't care about his wallet, he didn't care about his image, he just wanted to go home with you, glad that he still could.

Kalim Al Asim

You and Kalim snuck out on occasion to go do things in town without Jamil, turning your phones off to keep him from calling you. More often than not, it was just the two of you wandering around, enjoying each other's company. You'd ended up finding some really cool spots on these outings; an arcade, a candy store, a little art studio that was only open to the public three days a week, even a little shop that made their own henna. Kalim was always excited to go and find more with you, always with you. He figured the plain clothes of his club outfit made it harder for people to recognize him and called it good enough, plus it made the lie that he was just going to club meetings easier for Jamil to believe. You usually ended up wearing his hat or flannel while you were out, Kalim loving to see you in his clothing usually distracted him from buying out everything that even partially caught your eye.

The two of you were walking out of a shop, fingers intertwined, you laughing at something Kalim was gushing about. You'd barely made it halfway down the block when there was a squeal of tires from behind you, and you glanced back just in time to see a black van with tinted windows hopping the curb to barrel in your direction. You barely had time to shove Kalim into the recessed doorway of a shop as the van sped down the sidewalk, bowling over you with ease before popping back into the road and speeding away. Kalim couldn't see you from the doorway, you'd been dragged further down. He started to praise you for being so quick to save you both as he got back to his feet and returned to the sidewalk. The praise died in his throat with a strained gasp when he spotted you, mangled form limp on the concrete. He wasted no time ripping his phone out of his pocket, holding the button down to turn it back on as he ran. He was already sobbing heavily as he scooped you into his arms, he tried not to think about the way your spine moved too easily, or how your legs were bent in the wrong places at the wrong angles. He held your too still body against his chest like it would shield you from what had already happened, blood soaking into the white shirt, into his skin. He could feel it slicking his hands. The second his phone was back on, he dialed Jamil who answered in one ring. Kalim didn't give him a chance to get a word out as he sobbed incoherent explanations and directions to him, begging him to come help, to come save you. He was too distracted trying to give Jamil directions to where they were, eyes too full of tears to see your legs pop back into place. It wasn't until he felt you reach up to crack your neck back into the correct position that he froze, quickly looking down to see you laying in his arms as if nothing had happened, smiling sweetly up at him. But he could still feel your blood on his hands. He resumed his sobbing, dropping his phone to the ground to put both of his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could allow himself to as he cried into your shoulder.

When you made it back to the dorm, after getting cleaned up, Jamil sat the two of you down in Kalim's room to lecture you about how reckless and irresponsible these trips had always been, how the van had likely been aiming for him. Kalim wasn't listening, not fully. He'd tangled his limbs up in yours, holding you close with his ear resting over your heart to listen to it beat as you combed your fingers through his hair. You responded to his every whispered apology with quiet reassurance, and he could do nothing but believe you when you told him it was going to be alright.

Vil Schoenheit

You'd gotten permission to leave campus for the full weekend with Vil as his date for his latest movie premiere in Maquillaville. The first day went by in a daze of flashing lights and shouted directions, the only thing keeping you from being too overwhelmed was Vil, always at your side. Fingers laced with yours, an arm around your waist, he could tell when you were getting too tense and was right there to ground you again. Despite the absolute flurry of activity, it was actually a highly enjoyable time. The movie was amazing, Vil had done a remarkable job in his role, even if he was sick of being type cast. You held hands through the entire premiere, Vil lifting your hand to his lips to gently kiss your knuckles when you quietly gushed about him being on screen.

The next morning, you headed out to the train station. Vil planned for the two of you to take the long way back to school so you both could bask in not having any responsibilities for one day. You were hoisting the bags out of the trunk of the cab and passing them to Vil on the sidewalk as he talked about what you could do to pass the time in the private cabin. You'd handed him the last bag with a smile and were closing the trunk when you heard a loud crunch from behind you. You didn't have time to turn around before the car behind you was pushed forward and slammed into your back, crushing you between the two vehicles. Vil screamed your name as he watched the car that had caused the accident back away from the one it had slammed into you and sped away. He was pissed that they were just leaving, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. He couldn't see any of your injuries yet, your lower half still firmly pinned between the cars, but there was a distressing amount of blood pooling at your feet and you had yet to lift your head. He could feel tears streaming down his cheeks as he grabbed your hand the same way he had at the premiere, albeit shaky and a lot tighter. There was no warning when the cab pulled forward to release you from the pin, no way for Vil to keep you from just crumpling to the ground at his feet. He paid no mind to the blood that would soak into his pants as he knelt down next to you, lifting your head to rest in his lap. He only got to see how disfigured your pelvis and upper legs were for a moment before they started to move, flattened bones filling back out to return to their normal shape. He was too focused on your injuries disappearing before his eyes to notice your hand reach up to cup his cheek, causing him to startle and yelp.

"Are we going to miss our train?" You asked, far too casually for his liking.

He sighed heavily, leaning his head further into your touch. "Yes, darling, we are going to miss our train."

Idia Shroud

It was hard enough as is to get Idia to leave his room, let alone Ignihyde, let alone the campus. There was one thing you could get him to join you for in town, and that was game releases. There was just something about waiting in line for a physical copy release. You didn't know if it was the nostalgia or what, but it got Idia off campus with you early in the morning to wait for the store to open. And so what if afterwards you dragged him somewhere in public to grab breakfast? He was already off campus, how much worse could it possibly get?

The two of you hadn't even made it to the diner yet, Idia hidden in his hoodie listening to you excitedly talk about this new game release and how you couldn't wait to play it with him. He'd chime in with his own commentary here and there, just loud enough for you to hear him, while giving the minimal strangers on the sidewalk a wide berth. He pulled out his phone to look up the answer to a question you'd asked about it, while you pulled slightly ahead of him to cross the road. He'd only looked down for a second when he heard tires squeal, then a sickening thud and crunch. In the brief moment it took for him to look down at his phone, and back up, you were laid out on the pavement, a car peeling off down the street away from the scene. He nearly fumbled his phone in his hurry to press the emergency beacon for Ortho to follow as he hurried over to you.

"No, no, no..."

The sight was nearly enough to make him pass out; the back of your shirt ripped open-- a disturbing amount of skin along with it-- from where the car went over top of you, your hand and one of your legs were nearly unrecognizable from where they had been crushed under the wheels, your hand was too close to your head, way too close. He ripped his hoodie off, pressing it into the large wound on your back with shaking hands. He couldn't do this again, he couldn't lose another person that meant so much to him, not again. He was begging for you to stay with him under his breath, through his panicked tears, when he felt movement under his hands. He saw the disfigured shape of what had been your hand start to writhe with the movement of the bones underneath as they returned to their correct placements. That was all he saw before he passed out. When he came back to, he was in his bed in the dorm. For a moment, he thought it was just another horrible nightmare until he looked over and saw you at his desk, wearing one of his clean hoodies, playing on your phone with the start menu of the game the two of you had picked up on his screen. You glanced over, giving him a wide smile when you met his eyes, as if you hadn't been mutilated in the road the last time he saw you.

"Hey, you okay?" You asked, moving over to sit next to him on the bed.

He didn't say anything, just grabbed your hand-- the one that had been crushed-- and pulled it to him to press the back of it against his cheek. He probably wasn't okay, but he was so immensely glad that you were.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE MY WORK TO TRAIN AI

MASTERLIST

[inkedbydesire]

Love On The Brain Pt 1 (18+)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem OC

Warning: 18+ Content, sexual language, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Somewhere between his irresistible smile, cheesy jokes, and mind-numbing sex, Navae's five-month whirlwind with Jonathan Fatu had turned her into that friend (the one the group chat secretly dragged behind her back). So wrapped up in her situationship, Navae didn't even notice how often she was flaking on plans, showing up late, ducking out early, or not showing up at all. It wasn't like her, and her friends noticed. Convinced Jonathan was the root of the problem, they staged a full-blown friendtervention. After being called out for trading in her day ones for a man she barely knew, Navae knew she had to make a change and fast. So when girls' weekend rolled around again, she vowed to be fully present and accounted for. Nothing was going to stop her from walking out her front door ….. except, of course, the case of her missing keys.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Another one for Jimmy cause he’s sorta kinda my muse. Sorry for yapping but I can’t write any form of smut without giving them a reason for humping on each other (my bad 😂). But majority of the smut will be in Part 2. This is mainly just setting the scene. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors or typos.

*************************************************

"Bitch I swear if you don't make it tonight we're cutting you off."

Toni's words came out jokingly, but Navae couldn't help but feel the underlying seriousness. Especially after the impromptu "friendtervention" she endured last week. She wasn't used to being on the receiving end of those things. Normally, she was the one staging the interventions, hoping to reel a straying girlfriend back to herself. So imagine her shock when Toni, Lauryn, and Kaci pulled up to her apartment and sat her down like she was the star of an A&E special and told her they were officially fed up with her shenanigans. For the first time in over five years of friendship, they had a real issue with her. And the issue had a name: Jonathan Fatu.

"He got you acting different."

Navae could still hear the way Toni said it, her nose scrunched in disapproval. Kaci and Lauryn stationed beside her, nodding in silent agreement. And then came the list. They pointed out a record of missed Sunday brunches, flaked plans, and early exits from girls' nights. Traditions Navae used to ride hard for, tossed aside the minute Jonathan called or texted. And so on and so forth.

With everything laid out in front of her, Navae had no choice but to face reality. Her girls had good reason to feel a certain way towards her. It was like she had been in a dark room for the last few months and somebody had finally opened a window. What was on the outside wasn't all that pretty.

Navae instantly realized that she didn't want to be that girl. The one losing herself in a man and neglecting her friendships. She especially didn't want to be that girl for a man she didn't have a solid commitment with because it had only been a handful of months since he entered her life.

Seeing no point in arguing against her girls, Navae only promised to do better, which is why making it to their favorite hangout spot tonight was a must. She had to prove to them and herself that Jonathan didn't have her mind completely gone. Okay... maybe he had her a little ditzy, but she was still in control.

Right?

"Toni, relax. I will be there. I'm literally doing my hair right now, and I will be heading out in another 20 to 25 minutes," Navae stated as she used her curling iron to bring volume back to her hair.

"Alright, Navae," Toni responded in a doubtful tone that slightly hurt Navae's feelings, but she quickly pushed it aside. She just had to prove her wrong. Once Toni was off her line, Navae resumed the Spotify playlist that had been entertaining her while she was getting ready.

"Baby it's you, you're the one I love, you're the one I need, you're the only one I see," Navae's voice was like nails on a chalkboard as she sang along with Beyoncé while finger-combing her curls into the desired direction. Just as she grabbed a handful of hair and tossed it over her shoulder, checking herself out, Jonathan appeared in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Damn, I thought somebody was back here killing a cat," he joked, leaning against the doorframe and watching her through the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"Hardy har har," Navae shot back with a playful eye roll.

"Go find somebody to play with, Jonathan," she added as she shifted her focus back on her hair, attempting to dismiss him while pretending his presence didn't affect her.

Jonathan didn't like that. He was well aware of the hold he had on her because it was the same hold he felt she had on him.

He stepped closer, slid behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I wanna play with you," he stated as he rested his chin on her shoulder. The air in the bathroom thickened. Navae knew he meant that in more ways than one. Déjà vu hit her like a tidal wave as their eyes locked through the glass. Suddenly, her mind went back to their very first encounter.

It was at the birthday bash of a friend of a friend. Kaci knew the guy and thought it would be fun, so everyone tagged along. Thirty minutes after arriving with her girls, Navae started getting the eerie feeling that she was being watched. She tried ignoring it at first, but she couldn't shake it, so she scanned the party. It didn't take her long to spot him. He was standing across the room with a group of what she assumed were his friends. They were laughing and talking around him, but his eyes were deadlocked on her. And when she caught him staring, there was zero shame in his game. He didn't look away. He just kept on watching.

Typically, Navae would be annoyed by someone, especially a man, eyeing her like she was the last source of food on the planet, but she didn't mind it once she got a good look at him. Damn is all she could repeat in her head because she couldn't pull out an adjective strong enough to describe him. Her eyes traveled from the fitted cap on his head down to the clean white Air Force 1's on his feet. Now she was the one eyeing him like she wanted to take a bite.

And maybe she did.

It was the Hennessy she had been sipping since arrival that made her bold enough to walk up to him. She pulled him aside from his friends and asked him what he was looking at.

When all he did was smile, flashing the grill he was sporting at her, Navae didn't know to what extent just yet, but she was already a goner.

One thing led to another, and before the night was over, she found herself ducked off in a bathroom with him so deep inside of her you would've thought they were long-lost lovers, not two people who had just met that night. Even to this day, when Navae closed her eyes, she could still feel his breath against her ear as he repeatedly praised her for how wet she was and how good she was taking him.

She was a complete stranger, but he was in her ear, guiding her like they had known each other in a past life.

Navae didn't partake in many one-night stands. In fact, her encounter with Jonathan was only the second time she allowed herself to be that adventurous. She didn't know what it was about him that made her throw caution to the wind, but she was glad she did.

What transpired between her and him wasn't supposed to go past that night, though. They were supposed to part ways and never see each other again. But what happened in that bathroom was so electrifying that they ended up exchanging numbers, with Jonathan promising Navae that she hadn't seen nothing yet. He told her to just wait until he could really take his time with her. Navae found herself anticipating the hell out of it.

They talked for about a week before making plans to see each other again. Now, Navae wasn't a stranger to sex at all and had a few different sexual encounters with a couple of men. So, of course, part of her went into the night with Jonathan thinking some of it was just him talking himself up. She had a few dudes say what they would or could do, yet she was left basically unfulfilled. So she wasn't expecting anything above what she and Jonathan shared in that bathroom. That wasn't a bad thing, though, because it was a great experience.

But Jesus, did Jonathan live up to his words and a whole lot more. Navae had never cum so much in one night in her life. She lost count and damn near went brain dead after her seventh orgasm, and Jonathan just wasn't letting up. She had never had a man who prioritized her pleasure over his in such a way. It was like his next breath depended on how hard he could make her cum.

It got so intense in that bedroom that Navae vividly remembered telling him that she loved him. It still embarrassed her to this day because she had only known the man for a week. And to this day, he still hasn't let her live it down.

Jonathan put something on her that night that had her still paying the price today. She never meant to start being neglectful with her best friends, but it was like when Jonathan wanted her, she couldn't say no. Or it was more like certain parts of her body couldn't say no.

On top of that, Jonathan was extremely funny and charming. Over the course of five months, there was genuinely never a dull moment with him. They hadn't quite made it official yet, but Jonathan constantly assured Navae that she was the only person he was currently pursuing. And since meeting him, she couldn't even think about anybody else.

Jonathan was a ton of amazing things, but behind his knee-buckling smile and those beautiful dark eyes, Navae saw a deep possessiveness. It should've been a red flag, but it just turned her on more. The way Jonathan wanted her when he wanted her and didn't care if she made plans with God himself. That wasn't his problem. With his career and hers, their time together weekly was already limited. So when they both had free time, he wasn't too keen on sharing her with anybody else. Not even with people she knew well before him.

So many times Navae would tell him she had plans, but his favorite line was, "What that got to do with me, Navae?"

So many times she would actually go through the process of getting ready, only to have her hair messed up by how he liked to run his fingers through it while praising her for sucking his dick or throwing it back just right. Or only to have her makeup ruined by the tears she couldn't contain when he was so deep inside her it felt like he was taking a piece of her soul every time he pulled out.

Navae couldn't help but feel like Jonathan had a thing for watching her get ready just so he could be the one to undo her. That's what she thinks gets him off the most. Watching her get ready, knowing he was about to pull every move so she wouldn't even make it out the door.

There were days when she would actually make it to an event, though. Late sometimes, but she would be there. Only to end up leaving early because Jonathan would constantly be texting the filthiest things to her phone, telling her how much he needed her. And Navae always felt like she needed him in that way too, so it was nearly impossible not to give in. Even when she hadn't spent more than an hour with her friends all week.

God, she had become a terrible friend. If anyone else in the friend group were behaving this way, she would be so irritated.

It was beyond necessary that she showed and proved tonight. It wouldn't instantly fix things and put her back in everyone's good graces, but it would show that they were still just as important to her.

So Navae had to be there tonight, and she couldn't let anyone or anything stray her from that path. But here Jonathan was with his arms around her, trying to do just that. Earlier when they talked, she told him there was no point in his coming over tonight because she would be gone for hours. She and her girls were hitting up one of their favorite clubs and planned to party all night like old times. Pre-Jonathan times. But still, he showed up at her apartment about an hour ago smelling just as good as he looked, ready to call her bluff.

"You better play with yourself. I'm about to go. You already know that," Navae said to him while maneuvering out of his arms. Something she didn't necessarily want to do but had to because he was intentionally pressing his bulge against her ass. He wasn't even hard, and she could feel it. She pushed away images of the mini baseball bat he was walking around calling a penis and told herself that she had to stay focused.

Unplugging her curling iron, she looked around for what else she had to do and was happy that it wasn't much. With her hair and makeup finished, all she had to do was spray on some perfume and add a few pieces of jewelry. Then she could be out the door.

But little did she know, Jonathan had already taken one look at the way the jersey dress clinging to her body barely covered her ass and the thigh-high boots, and decided that she wasn't leaving his sight. He didn't care where she thought she was going, all he knew was that all her hard work was about to be for nothing. Well... never mind, she would definitely be getting something for it.

She looked too fucking good, and no way was some other dude at a club about to enjoy looking at her while he was stuck at her apartment thinking about every position he would rather be putting her in. He had been on the road for damn near the whole week, and all he could think about was seeing Navae.

Touching Navae.

Tasting Navae.

Being inside Navae.

He needed it bad.

And now that he was here, he wasn't trying to wait until she came back from the club too drunk or tired to get the treatment she deserved. She told him about how her friends were getting on her about the time they spent together, but he didn't see it as his issue. It wasn't his fault that Navae had bad time management skills. But what they said must've really gotten to her because she was acting a little different tonight. Anytime he touched her, she moved like she just did. And she wasn't allowing him to kiss on her or be near her for too long.

Jonathan sensed that old moves wouldn't get her to give in to the inevitable tonight, so he had to think of something else.

He took one last look at her spraying on the perfume that lingered well after she left the room before retreating to her living room. He sat down on the couch to think for a moment. Navae was determined as hell to go clubbing tonight, but he was even more determined to have his tongue wrapped around her clit in the next fifteen minutes, so... somebody had to win.

His eyes shifted around the living room before they landed on her keys on the floor near the coffee table. He noticed that Navae had a habit of walking into the house and tossing her keys without worrying about where they landed until she was about to leave again. Jonathan couldn't control the smile that crept on his face as he leaned forward and grabbed her keys. He slid them into the pocket of his sweatpants before leaning back into the couch cushions.

Just then, Navae slid on her last bracelet. She gave herself one last once-over in the mirror before grabbing the purse she matched with her outfit. Easing her phone inside her bag, she entered the living room.

"Baby, I'm about to leave," she announced to Jonathan as she walked over to where he was sitting.

"Awww, don't look like that. I'll be back," she joked as she stood in front of him as he looked up at her. She knew the look in his eyes all too well. It was an unquenchable hunger that she wasn't trying to get caught up in. At least not right now. She leaned down and ditched a kiss for a hug because she didn't want to mess up her lips. Once Jonathan had her in his arms, he softly kissed her on the neck while grabbing a handful of her ass.

Navae let it ride for a few moments before breaking away before she had to go and change her panties.

"I'll see you later, Jon," she told him, walking towards the front door. She was so close, but then she looked and didn't see her keys dangling from the hook by the door. She almost burst out laughing, remembering that she never uses the damn thing anyway. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, then turned around and walked back towards her coffee table. But she didn't see them there either. She looked around it but still came up with nothing. All she remembered was this morning she tossed them damn keys towards something. The coffee table? The kitchen counter? The stand in her room? She checked all those places before returning to where she started with nothing.

"You seen my keys?" she asked Jonathan, who was still sitting on the couch. Now he had her remote in his hand, flipping through the channels.

"Nah... but I told you about just throwing them anywhere," he responded, not feeling any remorse for the fact that the keys she was going all over her apartment searching for were sitting in his pocket.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you help me look for them?" Navae asked, a little frustrated. The last thing she needed was a lecture from him. Yes, she would do the same thing at his house, resulting in them having to search for her keys each time she was about to leave. No, she didn't need to be reminded of that right now.

"Yeah, but come here right quick," Jonathan told Navae as he put the remote down, realizing that now was his opportunity to reel her in. Navae walked back over and stood in front of him after dropping her purse on the coffee table.

"Yes?" she asked him.

"I did something to you?" he questioned her, knowing damn well she wasn't mad at him or anything. But he needed a way to get her on the hook. He placed his hands on her hips, looking up at her as she looked down at him with her hands resting on his shoulders.

"Why you think that?" Navae asked, confused. Yes, she had been a little standoffish today because she didn't want to get caught up in him, but she didn't think he would view that as her having a problem with him.

"I don't know," Jonathan answered with a shrug.

"You just been acting a lil funny today. You ain't gave me a kiss or nothing since I been here. Every time I try to touch you, you walk off from me. That shit got me feeling like you got a problem with me," Jonathan said, laying it on thick. He did feel a little bad for playing with her head for his benefit, but he figured each time he got her to cum would be his way of making it up. They both would win in the end.

"We're fine, Jon. I'm not upset with you about anything. I was just focused on getting ready," Navae reassured him as she stroked his beard, feeling bad that her actions made him feel that way.

"Feel better?" she asked him to ensure they were okay. With everything going on with her girls, the last thing she was prepared for was an issue with him. Although she knew her friends would probably be happy to see him go.

"I will be once you give me a kiss," Jonathan told her, then flashed a reassuring smile her way to let her know they were straight. He had no intentions to upset her too badly. He just needed an angle to keep her from making him wait longer for what he needed.

"Do you see this?" Navae said while waving her hand towards her face. "It took a minute to get it right. I can't mess it up."

"You got more than one set of lips, Navae."

To Be Continued……

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established relationship, light angst with a happy resolution. | wc: 1.9k, reading time: ~7 minutes

“If you go this time, don’t come back. I don’t want you here.”

The words blow through Dante’s memory like a chilly wind, not unlike the one that is sweeping through the nearly deserted city streets tonight. His jacket’s collar is popped over the bottom portion of his face to obscure him from the eyes of anyone who may be looking than it is to fight against the cold, his hot blooded nature coming in handy on nights like these where he has to keep himself warm. 

He’s had a lot of those nights lately and they make him wander the streets aimlessly if he isn’t working. He’d call it a patrol if someone asked but he knows the truth about why he does it.

Your part of the city is a bit nicer than his despite there only being a few blocks separating them. He wanders around looking at nicely kept shop windows, all of which keep normal business hours, closed and locked and tidy. A tidy neighborhood meant for tidy people. He’s sullying this like he does everything else. 

Sighing, he shoves his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and walks toward your apartment complex with his face pointed forward. Seeing his own reflection would only solidify how terrible he feels right now, certain the outside is reflecting the inside which is a mess since you told him you didn’t want to see him again.

Your reasoning makes perfect sense. You aren’t just a warm occasional bed or a nice meal or the owner of the only place that feels like it has light left in it in the entire world, you’re more and you deserve to be treated as such, which is far more than Dante can do for you as he is right now. Unfortunately, he made a promise to you after you first met that he’d always keep you safe, no matter what. 

Dante doesn’t break a promise. Not anymore. 

Punching in your personal code for the door of the apartment building where you reside, he raises a brow curiously noticing you still haven’t changed it. The first time he tried it and he worked would be the last, he promised himself. Then he returned the next night and did it again. And again. And again. And now, weeks later, he’s punching it in without even looking over his shoulder.

0127 - the date of the night the two of you met for the first time. 

Looks like you aren’t quite ready to move on yet yourself. It would be foolish to hope maybe you’ve softened your stance toward a man who doesn’t deserve such grace so he squashes the flame that the number stokes in his heart. 

He takes the narrow, metal stairs two at a time to decrease the chance someone will hear his heavy footsteps and peek out - it is 2 o’clock in the morning after all. There’s no telling what you’ve told your nosy neighbors if you’ve told them anything and he is loath to think that the noise complaints they made about the two of you specifically, about giggling and lovemaking both, continued because you’ve brought someone else into your life. He’d like to think he knows you better than that and you wouldn’t but lonely hearts do crazy things to feel full for even a little while. 

Standing in front of your door, Dante thinks better of this for the first time since he started. What if someone else is in there? Even worse, what if you aren’t home? Will he traverse through the city for the rest of the night to find you? 

Yes, of course he will but thankfully as he reaches for the doorknob, the subtle scent of you drifts around the door. Not in the way all people’s homes kind of smell like them but you, direct from the source. Not arousal, not fear, just you. 

He breathes a sigh of relief and reaches to lift the little placard you keep on your door welcoming guests in, unsticking the spare key from its secret hiding place. He slips it into the lock and it unlatches as always.

You hear it from your bedroom. The locks components slide over one another then you hear the door open quietly. Your guest is attempting to hide the little squeak from the hinges by keeping their foot beneath the bottom one and shutting 

There is one singular person who knows both where the spare key is kept and how to keep the door quiet. Chuckling quietly, you curl into your bedding and shift to lay on your back so that you can watch what’s happening through the open bedroom door. You silently thank whatever is out there, shutting your eyes tightly for a millisecond before footsteps reverberate through your quiet apartment again confirming what you already knew.

Dante. He’s come back.

The footsteps continue for a few moments and stop in the kitchen. You hear the jingle of your keys being swept out of the way on the counter, wondering what he could be reaching for. 

It’s the picture of the two of you on the counter, the one you just took off of the fridge last night. It made you ache to look at while retrieving a glass of water so you pinched it off of the fridge and put it aside. He pinches it in the same way, frowning softly. 

It isn’t too late to turn around and walk out, he thinks. But he came all this way and needs to get a good look at you just to make sure you’re okay. 

Placing the picture down on the counter, he steps as quietly as he can in boots across the wooden floors. He’s held your hand and danced with you through these rooms during happier times and you’ve listened to him talk about his pain freely during the hard ones.

Why does it feel like this may be the last time he ever memorizes himself as a fixture in your place, your life?

Dante’s footsteps still as they approach the edge of the living room that then continues on to your bedroom. The door separating the rooms is rarely closed unless you have someone over and it’s open tonight, as always. He sighs and takes a few more steps, walking past the couch and tipping his head to look over the doorway. 

“I know it’s you.”

Shit. Of all the things he’s thought about since coming here, never once did he think that you may be awake. A more idealistic part of him hoped for it, maybe, but now that it has happened he freezes in his tracks and comes to rest, standing across the room from you. It feels like a world apart.

“I never should have come,” he states simply, coolly though it’s a facade to hide his pounding heart. The possibility that you’ll deny him again races through his head and now that he has been caught doing his nightly ritual, there’s a chance things could end up even worse than they have been lately. It’d be what he deserves.

You let silence linger for a moment, working up your courage to say what you’ve been thinking since that unfortunate evening that ended with him simply nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him and erasing his presence from your life since.

“And I never should’ve said something that I didn’t mean to you.”

You sigh, using your left index finger to bend the right middle one backward, your eyes glued on the stretch of the digit rather than the only eyes that have ever made you feel seen that look at you across familiar darkness. 

“There’s one place you will always belong, Dante and it’s here.” Nodding, you swallow. “With me.”

He says nothing, statue still in the darkened doorway. The big window in your living room backlights him in shades of late night neon, the reflection of a reddish halo above his snow capped head. A little part of you thinks you’re dreaming, saying all the things you’ve kept to yourself over the difficult few weeks that have passed to an apparition of a man you’d give anything to see again at this point. Perhaps your sanity is the first of those things you’re freely giving yet this feels real. So you keep speaking. 

“And I want you here even if you don’t believe it. Even if you think I’m mean or crazy or you don’t love me…”

The air in the room shifts. 

“Don’t say that.”

His silhouette slips through the door, past the creaky floorboard. 

There are many things in this world that he can tolerate but you doubting his feelings is not one of them. Heavy footsteps ring through the room. Your discarded clothing that should’ve been put in the hamper becomes a victim to muddy boots that should’ve been cast off at the door despite his haste to see you. 

“I love you.”

The words come from the side of the bed, Dante kneeling at the side of it though he’s practically lying across it with how low it rests above the floor. Your eyes finally focus in the darkness, allowing you to clearly make him out for the first time in a while.

He’s as sharp and beautiful as ever yet haunted, dark circles indicating sleepless nights giving him away. Stubble dots his chin and cheeks, your palm graced by its sharpness when you reach out to cup his jaw. Your mouth bunches in on itself, quivering lips hiding while your sniffles give you away. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m such a selfish brat and you don’t deserve it.”

You burst into tears, a sob wracking your body. A balloon of sympathy bursts inside of Dante and he reaches for your hand that rests on his cheek, covering it and weaving his fingers over yours. 

“We all say things we aren’t proud of,” he mutters.

It’s a covert acceptance of your peace offering because he knows you’d overreact to a direct one.  It’s also a plea for you to stop talking badly about yourself. He has been through enough, the last thing he wants is to listen to this, this painful self flagellation. 

“Yeah but I don’t want to be so afraid of losing you it makes me hurt you either.”

You are so precious he cannot even begin to fathom that you see yourself as anything lesser. He smiles softly. 

It’s the first time he’s felt like doing so for weeks.

“Then I’ll just keep reminding you that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There are no monsters that I can’t handle for you.” 

You silently point downward with raised eyebrows, the faintest hint of a smile flickering across a handsome face when he realizes you mean the tiny space just beneath your bed.

“It’d be a little hard for a monster to slip under there but yeah, exactly. Not the ones under your bed.” He raps his knuckles gently against your forehead.  “Not even the ones in your head.” 

You reach up to wrap one of your hands around his fist, warm tears sliding down your cheeks when you close them. The two of you remain like that for a few moments, simply enjoying the warmth of the other's presence. You swallow the lump in your throat and look up at him.

“We aren’t perfect apart but I know we’re perfect together.”

Dante nods, leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

“I can’t help but agree with that.”

[viperify]

AU | ᴅᴀʀ�� ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

₊˚.☾⋆ Mine, forever.

Short Summary: Strange dreams and memories plague your sleep. You would do nothing rather than to forget about everything that has happened—but Tom has other plans for your shared future.

Warnings: obsessive!Tom, biting, blood drinking, Tom doesn’t know what to make of his feelings, slight misogyny, kidnapping I suppose? Also manipulation through the effect of a vampire’s bite.

A/N: This is my participation for week 2 of @acourtofchaos’ Festival of AUs! Just had to take part with my beloved vampire Tommy. <3 — Repost bc I had to make some slight adjustments. Sorry!!

wordcount: 2,5k

also, this is part two of In His Fangs!

Bruised.

Marked.

Branded.

That’s how you left the forest that night.

But not only that.

Tom Riddle was alive—and it would be a burden for you to carry alone.

—

You expect him to come back—almost wait for it. The first few nights, you don’t get to rest. Tossing and turning, trying methods from old books in your attic. It’s all no help. The memory of him, his scarlet eyes, his sharp fangs dragging over your neck, cold hands roaming over your bare skin—keeps you wide awake for most of the night.

Days and weeks pass. Still, no sign of him. People have stopped talking about Voldemort’s return. Just a rumour. Nonsense someone made up back when all these dead sheep were found.

Just rumours, you repeat to yourself, shaking your head slightly. Right.

That evening, after your shower, you take a look in the mirror, eyes drifting to the letters he’s carved just below your collarbone. They have reduced to scars, small imperfections on your skin. Still very visible, and not something you could cover up—no matter what you tried, nothing worked. They’d always shine through, even if you put five layers of makeup.

You have decided to stick to high-neck shirts from now on.

However, today, when you reach to trace them with your finger, you feel a slight burn—not much, barely there—yet, your hand jerks back at the sensation.

It’s almost been four weeks since you last saw him—which means the next full moon should be right around the corner.

You swallow hard at the realisation.

That same night, when you close the curtains to your bedroom window, you take a look at the moon. It’s an almost perfect circle, shining brighter than usual. So bright, you pull the curtains shut, as to protect yourself from it.

As you do, a flash of red in the distance. So small, you barely even register it.

You look again.

Nothing.

You are tired, drained. Sleep catches up faster than you’d want it to, and mere minutes later you are asleep. One of the deepest sleeps you have had in a while.

For a reason.

You don’t often dream, certainly not lately, as you have hardly slept anyway. Though today, you can’t seem to catch a break. Dreams of your years at Hogwarts, of classes and free periods, of your late-night study sessions in the library. They all have something in common—such a small detail, it’s easily missed if not pointed out.

Tom is in every little scene. Sometimes staring at you from across the courtyard, other times reading a book in the library, just an aisle further.

You never noticed, but now it seems so straightforward.

The quiet, nerdy boy with no family to go home to during holidays, the young, handsome prefect with the prettiest eyes and softest hair had been observing you back in school.

As soon as you connect the dots, still half asleep, these little memories fade into a blur—and the scenery changes.

Darkness.

Creaking wood.

The soft, vanilla scent of lit candles.

Freezing cold hands roaming over your exposed skin—having you shiver.

A sudden, sharp pain on your neck—

You shriek awake, drenched in sweat. Looking around you, you are met with nothing except for darkness and silence.

Just a dream.

He won’t come back.

Never.

Right?

Though you have slept for at least eight hours that night, you feel more exhausted than before you went to bed when you wake up in the morning.

Getting out of bed is hard, your neck stiff and sore. But work is waiting, and these days you can’t allow yourself to call in sick. They’ll replace you on the spot if you even only attempt to. You sigh. It’s messed up, but that’s how it is. And you need this job and the money if you don’t want to end up without a roof over your head—urgently.

You carry yourself over to your bathroom, applying toothpaste to your toothbrush before you start cleaning in circular motions. When you look up at your reflection in the mirror, you gasp—toothbrush falling into the marble sink.

There are massive bags under your eyes, cheeks sunken in, eyes glassy. You look horrible—so sick you have no business going outside, let alone working.

But weirdly enough, you don’t feel how you look.

You are just fine—yes, your neck could be better, and you are just a tiny bit dizzy—but that could as well be the result of your recent sleep deprivation—or the fact you are constantly worrying about everything.

Heading to your workplace, you notice people staring, whispering to each other as you pass. You try to ignore them as best as you can, releasing a deep sigh as soon as the entrance door to the little coffee shop you work at closes behind you, the one just around the corner from the Three Broomsticks with barely any customers.

You prepare for your shift, and as expected, it’s slow. Barely served two customers before lunch. Just as you are about to close the shop for break, a man enters. Tall, dressed in all black, face almost unrecognizable as it’s hidden behind a hat, scarf and coat.

Weird, it’s summer.

“We are about to close,” you apologize with a soft smile.

He gets seated nonetheless.

Internally, you want to tell him to leave. Drag him out by his hair if you have to. You are tired, exhausted—but also not in the mood to argue with someone who might just quickly drink a coffee and then leave. Especially when you need every customer you can get anyway.

So you serve him his order.

He doesn’t talk much, yet you feel his gaze burning through you, almost uncomfortably so. You think you know his eyes from somewhere—but you can’t exactly recall from where.

“You look sick. Are you doing quite alright, sweetheart?” He asks, stirring his coffee. Eyes meeting yours as you don’t immediately find an answer.

The voice.

You could swear—

His hand briefly brushes against yours as you clean spilled water from the table, and you flinch at the sensation. They are freezing cold.

“I am— fine.” You reassure, though startled.

He doesn’t speak again after that, and five minutes later, he’s gone. Left a tip, though.

With a note.

“Looking forward to seeing you again.”

You throw it away when you get home.

That night, it’s the same ordeal. Scars burning more than the day before, moon completing a full circle. Dreams of your past, each of them featuring Tom, as though you can’t escape him. Then, memories of that one night in the hut. Clearer this time. How he touched you, where he touched you. How he marked and branded you as his.

Again, you manage to tear yourself from the dream, waking up. Hair stuck to your damp forehead as you turn on the light, checking if there is anyone.

Nobody.

Just as you are about to go back to sleep, you spot a note on your bedside table.

“Come and find me, sweet girl.

Tomorrow, 20:00. I will be there.

If you don’t—as you see, I know where to find you.

And remember, I don’t appreciate disobedience.”

You quickly scrunch the paper, throwing it across the room. You wish he’d just finished the job last time. Like he did with the animals.

Why didn’t he?

—

It’s not that you want to go back, no. But you would rather have it happen in the forest than in your own sacred four walls. Again, you ask yourself—why you? Why not someone else?

Tom is already waiting when you enter the wooden cabin, deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

“I knew you would come if I called for you.” He drawls, stalking towards you.

You scoff. “Did I have a choice?”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Of course not.”

His eyes scan your body as though he wants to imprint every detail in his mind.

Even more beautiful than last time he saw you, Tom thinks. So pretty when you are scared, shivering. When your heart rate is twice as high as normal—pumping his favourite blood through your veins.

That’s what he’s been waiting for ever since you left.

Tom has done research in the meantime. Gone to several healers he knew he could trust—mostly those closely related to the Malfoys and Rosiers—where he assumed the secret of his return would be safe.

They told him what he had already suspected.

His death broke the curse of the Love Potion his mother had used to seduce his father. And suddenly, when he chose to return as a vampire, all these pent-up feelings he was never able to experience broke free.

He’d always seen you as someone special. An intelligent girl back at Hogwarts, someone that could challenge him—it intrigued him. He observed you, without you ever noticing. But Tom never knew what to make of this strange pull he had towards you.

Until he saw you wandering the street, smelled the scent of you and your blood from a mile away. All these emotions came crashing down onto him, and he realised what it was that interested him about you.

But even now, that he is able to feel—he doesn’t yet know how to love.

So it has turned into obsession instead.

An unknown feeling spread in his chest whenever he saw you from afar. Something that made him crave you, your touch, your affection. He didn’t like it. It made him vulnerable. You made him feel like that. And Merlin, he wanted to punish you for it.

So he lured you into the forest that night. Took everything from you.

He needed you to want him back. But it didn’t happen. So, instead, he made sure you would be his either way.

His initials carved into your skin a constant reminder of who you really belonged to.

“You did that, didn’t you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. “The dreams, the note. The man at my work. It was all you.”

He nods, face mere inches from yours.

“Why?” You ask again, more silently this time. Voice barely above a whisper.

His hand tilts your head upwards so you are forced to look into his eyes, his thumb wiping over your trembling lips.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers after what feels like an eternity. Completely disregarding your question. Your heart sinks.

You shake your head. “Answer me.”

His hand trails down your neck, barely touching, slipping beneath the fabric of your sweater—pausing briefly as he feels his initials on your skin.

“You are mine. I usually keep my eyes on my belongings.”

The next sentence slips faster from your lips than what you would have wanted it to.

“You shouldn’t walk around in Hogsmeade. What if— people recognize you?”

His eyes, once focused on where his hand rests beneath your top, snap up to meet yours, a subtle grin forming on his lips.

“Since when do you care? It was you who got me killed, after all.”

You’d expect him to be angry with you—but it’s the opposite, really. His head dips, placing a single, feather-light kiss to your jaw.

“I am sure you’d do nothing rather than go running to your pathetic Aurors at the Ministry and report the rumours are true, no?”

Tom doesn’t wait for a response—instead, he starts trailing kisses down your neck, directly along your vein.

A shiver runs down your spine. You shake your head.

“No— no, I don’t.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbles, his fangs scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Not convinced.”

“Please, I—“

“Shh.” He shushes you, tilting your head to grant him better access to your neck. “Just be still, and I won’t hurt you.”

You nod slowly, a single tear falling down your cheek. You just want this to be over.

Before you even get to process his next move, his teeth sink deep into your flesh, drawing the first drops of blood, pinning you against the wooden panels of the wall. It burns at first—until a warm, pleasurable sensation spreads throughout your body. Your breathing and heart rate slow, and you relax against the wall.

It’s quick, less painful than last time. You try to endure. Not fight back.

It’s hard.

Each time he praises you, or even makes the tiniest sound as he feeds from your neck, you have to hold back a sob.

By the time he’s done, you are more than dizzy. A headache forming. Blood staining your neck, your sweater. Legs trembling.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands before he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Taste that? How delicious you are? And you really think I would ever let you go.”

You barely register his words as your knees give in, and you sink down on the floor, vision blurring, ears ringing.

The next thing you remember is waking up the morning after. Not in your own bed. The mattress is harder, pillow thicker than your own. Your neck hurts—and not just because of the pillow.

You try sitting up, lift your head—and immediately lie back down. It hurt too badly.

“There she is. Good girl.” An all-too-familiar voice drawls from beside you, and as you turn your head, you see him, for the first time since he came back in daylight.

He is still as handsome as he was back at Hogwarts—though even paler, if that was possible. Still the same beautiful brown eyes. Sharp jawline. Pointy cheekbones. Broad shoulders. A dream, if he wasn’t what he is. If he didn’t do to you what he did.

“Let me go, please. I promise I won’t tell anyone. I can come back, I will—“ you sob. “I will give you anything you want. I promise.”

He merely laughs.

“Seems as though you still haven’t understood. You are mine. From the second I touched you, you have been mine. No man will want you now that I have had you.” Tom says, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Instead, you will be with me.”

You try to find your voice to object, to tell him to forget it. He is the last man you would—

He kisses you instead. Softly. Slowly. And for whatever reason, you don’t protest—let him kiss you—even part your lips to grant him entrance.

Tom turns to look back at you when he gets up to leave—grinning. He is so close to getting you where he wants you. Just a few bites more and he would have you following his orders, make you like him back. And then, at some point, in a few years, maybe—

“One day, I am going to turn you,” he murmurs. “Make you mine, forever.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | AUs.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[moody-alcoholic]

This Is Going To Hurt

Part 12 - Epilogue

Summary: Poly141 x reader, established relationship, medic reader, kidnapped reader, mini fic.

CW: PTSD, use of weapons, canon typical violence, death, alcohol, military inaccuracies.

Previous parts - masterlist AO3

6 months and 5 days. That's how long it took them to track Sayyid down. 189 days. 

You did take a month off with Johnny, it was good, a nice distraction to dote over him while he was recovering from his surgery. It was just enough work to keep you distracted and busy, but not enough that you didn’t have time to make it to regular psych appointments. And even when you did go back to work you could still keep them up, you’re not sure if it’s helping but you don’t mind, it’s nice to just talk. 

John keeps a close eye on you, only giving you as much as he thinks you can handle. You tell him you can handle more but he won’t have it. It was only a month after Johnny had officially been back on duty you got the call from Laswell. They’d tracked Sayyid to Iran and marines were ready to move in and take him. 

“We’re not letting the Americans get him again!” You shout, slamming your hands on the table. Everyone looks at raising eyebrows or letting out sighs. 

“We might not have a choice.” Simon said, looking over at John who's standing at the head of the table with his hands on his hips. 

“We need him to find Khalid and Jamal.” Laswell says through the phone. 

“Fuck that, you’ll just want to use him to trade again.” You snap.

“Calm down.” John says, you can hear the warning in his voice. You don’t care there is no other end for him then death. You don’t even care if you’re the one pulling the trigger or not. 

“What if we can find them?” Kyle asks, everyone looks at him. “We’ve done it before.” 

“With Farah’s help.” Johnny reminds him. There’s a sigh down the phone line. 

“I can give you 10 days. Then shepherd wants the marines to move in. Find the whereabouts of Jamal and Khaled before then and Sayyid is all yours.” Laswell says. You smile looking up at John, he doesn’t look as sure. You’ve all spent the last 6 months just trying to find one of them. 

“10 days.” John nods. “I have to make some calls.” 

…

It only took 7. 

You remember the wave of relief you felt when Johnny came crashing into your room with the folder in his hands. 

“We fuckin’ got ‘em.” You jumped off the bed throwing yourself into his arms. You both ran to the conference room, you almost couldn't believe it. But there it was in black and white; satellite images courtesy of the Russians. 

You don’t care how you got them-just that you had them. You had them which meant Sayyid was yours. Even John was smiling when he saw you. 

…

The night was cool. There's a gentle breeze. 

You’re crouched behind the wall with Kyle. As soon as Shepherd gave the go ahead you were all on a plane to Iran within 24 hours. Now you’re here, ready to raid the compound where Sayyid has spent the last few weeks hiding. 

Shepherd wanted to call in an airstrike and just blow the place. You needed closure though, it took alot of convincing but finally he relented and allowed 141 to go in with help from the Americans. 

“Bravo-2 in position, got eyes on the target.” Ghost says, you look over at the ridge where you think him and the other snipers are hiding. He’ll be the only one not coming in with you. You lean back down against the wall. Johnny shuffles up next to you. 

“You ready?” He asks. You nod, you’ve been waiting for this moment. You’re not one to seek revenge, you don’t exactly fantasise about killing people. Even ones you hate. But Sayyid has hurt so many, killed so many innocent people. If you're not going to do this for you, you'll do it for Naajiya, because she definitely didn’t deserve to die.  

“Copy, remember Sayyid is ours, as soon as we’re clear we’ll blow the place.” John says over the radio. You watch him as he stands up with the 2 random soldiers following him. 

“Let's go.” Gaz says next to you and you nod standing up with Soap following behind you. 

“Entrance looks clear.” Ghost says. You all walk down the dune hill to the compound's gates. Price is already there with one of the soldiers using bolt cutters to destroy the padlock around the gate. You follow them through the gates and up to the main door. Everyone stacks up and Price checks the handle, it's open and he looks back at everyone. 

“No friendlies through this door. Let's keep it tight.” He says in a low voice, it’s met with a string of copies and nods. Your throat suddenly feels dry, your hands sweaty under your gloves. The weapon feels heavy in your arms, you bring the sight up to your eyeline as the door is thrown open. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you make your way through the building following Price’s lead. You listen to the coms moving where you're needed firing off shots when people pop into your vision. None of them are Sayyid though, Ghost said he saw him so you assume he’s on the next floor. You’re already moving to the stairs before the ground floor is clear. 

Johnny follows behind you and you both make it up the steps. At first you don’t see anyone but you keep pushing hearing Price call that the ground floor is clear. Johnny tells him you’ve already moved up. The smell of blood and gunpowder fills your nose. It makes your heart race even faster as you let Johnny take the lead as you clear the rooms with him one by one. 

When you make it to the last room you kick the door in, as soon as you do shots ring out. You and Johnny dive to opposite sides of the door. Price and Gaz come up behind you a few seconds later helping you to your feet. This has to be Sayyid, the rest of the place has been cleared, and if there was someone on the roof Ghost would have got them long before now. 

“Sayyid!” You shout. You hear an angry voice shout in Arabic. Johnny peaks the door before swinging and firing off a shot. You swing too, it’s not a kill shot but he hit the weapon out his arms. Sayyid is rolling on the floor holding his shoulder. 

Johnny kicks his weapon out the way and you lower yours going over to him and unclipping his pistol, pulling it off his hip and unloading it.

“What here to take me back to the Americans?” He asks looking up at you. You throw his pistol to the side. Soap and Gaz keep their weapons trained on him, he sits up still holding his shoulder. He looks around at everyone else. “Bought the whole gang. Where’s the Ghost?” 

“None of your business.” Soap snaps, taking a step closer to him. You pull your pistol off your hip and click the safety off. He puts together what's happening, sighing and dropping his head for a second. 

“This doesn’t make you a good person. You know that right? Killing me won’t stop Al-Qatala, it won’t even help you sleep at night.” He spits. 

“What happened to the guy with the crush injury? The one you were praying for?” You ask. He frowns, the scoffs. 

“Is that how you do it? For everyone you kill you save another.” He chuckles, it makes you mad. You should just do it now, kill him and get it over with. “He died. It was a blessing to be honest especially after you sliced him up.” You don’t believe him. This time you can’t help yourself and you cry out smacking him over the head with the butt of your pistol.

He drops his hand and braces himself on the floor before sitting back up again and looking at you. You’re trying really hard not to let him know how much he’s getting to you. How much you just want him wiped off the face of the Earth.  

“Do no harm.” He says, his eyes digging into yours. You move your finger to the trigger. 

“You’re right. You won’t be doing any more harm.” You don’t let him get another word off firing the pistol point blank at his head. You look over at the blood splashed across the room and the pool coming from his head. His eyes are open, you should bend down and close them, it’ll be the last piece of respect he deserves. 

You can’t do it though, instead you put your pistol away and turn back. You look up at John before picking your weapon up and heading out the room. You don’t say anything, Just listen to the coms as everyone finishes clearing the area before you all leave. Not that you really needed to do that anyway, there’s about to be an airstrike on this place. 

It’ll be reduced to a crater in the sand and Sayyids body will be buried along with it. You hope it's something at least. Johnny’s hand lands on your shoulder when you make it to the top of the dune. 

“You good?” He asks. You nod looking back down at the now abandoned building. You hear Ghost say he’s clear too as you continue to walk so you’re out of the firing range. When you make it to the rendezvous, Ghost is already there waiting, you turn to look back at the building as Price calls for the airstrike. 

Soap’s hand comes around your back and Gaz steps up next to you. “Feel better?” He asks. 

“No.” You say. You feel like shit, you killed someone in cold blood, Christ even your therapist said it wouldn’t help you. Maybe it was Sayyid who got the last laugh after all. You hear the whooshing of a rocket and a second later the building explodes. You let out a sigh clutching your weapon, he’s gone he can never hurt anyone again apart from you and you’re okay with that. 

You look down at your feet digging your toe into the sand, before looking up at Price who’s turned to you. 

“Good job. Let's get back to base and I’ll buy you all a drink.” He says. 

“As long as it’s none of that American shite.” Johnny says cheerfully. It makes you smile and John smiles back. 

“It's fucking water mate.” Kyle seconds as you all turn to walk back to the trucks. You see Simon with his sniper thrown over his shoulder. He waits for you, letting everyone pass first before you follow at the back with him. 

“Don’t ask me how I feel.” You say. 

“I won’t.” You smile nudging him. His hand comes to pat your back. 

“I think we’re quick, we can sneak into the Germans tent and swipe a case of beer.” He says. It makes you chuckle. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

…

Instead of stealing the beer you trade a couple of packets of cigarettes for them. They even threw in a few packets of some German crisps Johnny ended up snacking on straight away. Johnny and Kyle took some chairs from the rec room and John picked out a quiet spot on the roof of a building at the edge of the base, away from prying eyes that looked out into the seemingly endless desert. 

You were already on your second beer and letting yourself relax when Kyle's hand came to land on your thigh. 

“Shame there wasn’t any ice.” Johnny says as he finishes his second can and goes for a third. 

“Wait till you find out what we traded for them.” Simon says, chuckling. Johnny looks over at you but you hide your smile by taking another sip. You look up at the sky, there is no light pollution here but the lights from the base are blocking your view of the clear night sky. 

Kyle squeezes your thigh and you look over at him smiling. You didn’t need to kill Sayyid to feel whole, you just needed this. Surrounded by the people you love doing a job you love. Nothing else should matter. You reach down for his hand, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. 

“We should take a holiday.” You say looking over at the others. Johnny leans forward in his chair to see you better past Simon and Price. 

“Where would we go?” He gestures out over the wall to the desert. “This is already beautiful.”

“Maybe somewhere where we won’t get shot at.” you say. 

“Or blown up.” Kyle seconds. 

“Somewhere cold.” Simon says, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Iceland.” John says finally. Johnny sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“We could see the northern lights.” You say excitedly. 

“When this is over.” John says. “When this is over we can go wherever we want.” He turns to you and smiles, you smile back and nod at him. 

“What the hell!” You all turn to look down at Laswell with her hands on her hips. “I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour.”

“Laswell. C’mere, put your feet up, grab a can.” Johnny says throwing a can at her. She catches it but doesn’t open it. 

“Shepherd wants you in Urzikstan.” She says.

“Now?” John asks. 

“There’s already a flight waiting for you.” She says with a smile. 

“We’ve been drinking.” You say. 

“You can sleep it off on the plane.” She says. John chuckles and jumps off the roof to stand with Kate. 

“No rest for the wicked huh?” Johnny asks, picking up the rest of the crate. 

“Leave it for the Americans.” Simon says, jumping down next.

“Yeah, let them know what real beer tastes like.” Kyle says jumping down next and looking back up at you. You smile and jump down. Johnny lands next to you throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll let you sleep on me, lass and we’ll get a few hours kip before we land.” he says.

“Then what? Are you going to take me out to dinner, treat me like a real princess?” You joke. 

“Fuck, on my salary? Dream on.” He laughs, you laugh with him and walk as you walk back to dorms. You watch John get caught up by Laswell, in a few hours you’ll be in Urzikstan, you’ll be after a new target probably Jamal or Khaled if you’re lucky both. 

Your taste for revenge has gone, maybe you’ll always hate him and maybe you’ll never forgive him, but he’s gone and he doesn’t deserve anymore of your tears or your energy. He’s buried in the sand where he belongs, and anyway you have other people to worry about. You smile as you look up at Johnny throwing his arm around Simon’s back. 

Kyle’s arm is around your waist and he pulls you closer to him. You look up and smile at him.

“Thank you.” 

“No thanks necessary, love. Besides you’ll make it up to us.” he says, slipping away from you and winking. You laugh, he’s just as bad as Johnny. You finish the rest of your can and throw it in the bin. 

At least you won’t be back here for a long time…hopefully.

Banners by plum98

[myhouse-mychair-myfics]

Building Bridges

Part 2 of Suppressed Bond

Ridoc Gamlyn x Marked!Reader

“You are still mopping over your princess, pay attention,” Aotrom chastised inside Ridoc’s head as he once again lost focus in class, daydreaming about you.

“Since when do you care?” Ridoc fired back, “besides, she’s not a princess.”

You weren’t. The daughter of a former Tyrrish lord, yes. Not a princess, but close enough in title that he liked to call you that. Liked to imagine you if you weren’t forced into the harsh hell that was this godsforsaken military academy. Liked to imagine the life you could have lived if not for the fate of your family.

“Demoting her doesn’t seem like a good first step in mating her.” Ridoc felt Aotrom’s laughter in his chest more than he telepathically heard it.

“Would you piss off?” Ridoc thought, scribbling notes in frustration.

“If you want any chance of getting near her in the sense you mean-“

“-She’s more than just a quick-“

“I am viscerally aware of all the things you feel for her, both romantic and otherwise. If you want to win her esteem and attention, you’ll have to get through her father of a dragon, first.” Ridoc imagined Aotrom preening at the next part. “For that, you will need my help. So no, I will not piss off.”

“Had to make it about you, didn’t ya?”

“Do you want my assistance or not, Gamlyn? Or are you content for Andell to scorch you on sight?”

“Cadet Gamlyn!” Professor Devera called over Battle Brief, “If I could have your attention, please? It would be greatly appreciated.”

“Sorry.” Then, to Aotrom, “Look what you did!”

“What I did? I am nowhere near. I remain an innocent bystander.”

“Innocent my ass,” Ridoc grumbled under his breath.

“Psst,” you whispered from your seat beside him, bumping him with your elbow, “what’s going on?”

Ridoc mimed the beating of leathery wings with his hands, pointed at his head, then made the yapping signal, eliciting a giggle from you.

Ridoc would swear in that moment, that sound, changed the shape of his eyes to hearts. He prided himself on making those around him laugh, part of his charm, he’d always said. But your laughter? The sound of your amusement? The fact that he could pull that sound from you after all you had suffered throughout your short life?

It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

And he’d do whatever he could to hear it again.

“Oh brother,” Aotrom complained inside his head, “this is going to be a long handful of days.”

Had Violet not been up to whatever weird and secretive shit she’d been dealing with from a day to day basis, she would likely have had something smart to say about him pouring over a book.

Colonel Kaori’s Guide to Dragonkind, to be specific.

“How do you get another dragon to like you?” Ridoc thought aloud, absently.

“If you want advice, you can ask me.”

“And,” Ridoc spoke to his dragon aloud, a fun little habit he’d unwittingly picked up from you, “you have made it clear you don’t have any interest in being helpful.”

“You are serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Ridoc exclaimed, tossing his hands up in the air.

“…Tell me about her,” Aotrom said.

“Seriously?”

A grumble of draconic impatience in his head.

“Well, she’s beautiful-“

“-By human standards, sure.”

“Ass.”

Aotrom said nothing, but there was a feeling through their bond that had Ridoc imagining the dragon sticking his tongue out.

“She’s smart, brilliant even. Violet doesn’t talk about it in any detail, but she was apparently indispensable during that battle in Resson-“

“Her having seen combat so early, with that relic on her arm, is likely not going to help Andell’s protectiveness…” Aotrom mused, sounding as if he really was thinking through the problem.

“I just want… I just want her to be happy. To see her smile. Make her laugh. She isn’t just another girl to me, you know. She’s… I… I’m in love with her.” Ridoc could hardly breathe, having finally voiced the inkling of a thought that had hung in his head for weeks.

Ridoc heard Aotrom hum in his head. “Wait,” he said, “you actually are going to help me?”

“As much as I enjoy getting my amusement at your expense, Gamlyn, I enjoy working with you, rather than against you. I also… happen to find this cause a worthy one. Of course I’ll help you.”

“Hey, uh, thanks,” Ridoc said.

“Keep the sappiness out of it.”

“Sure thing,” Ridoc laughed, “Sure thing.” He felt ghosts of dragon laughter, but let it go. “Alright, dragon expert, pun intended by the way, where do we start?”

“Are you alright?” Andell’s soft voice filled your head with his usual check in after most of your year filed out of the flight field. You did not have anything to compare it to, but something in you felt Andell’s voice was uncommon among his kind.

Someone had ambushed you leaving breakfast this morning. You had a bruise on your cheek Andell had already seen and fussed over, demanding to know if any rider was responsible so he could take it up with their dragon. You’d told him truthfully that it was one of those infantry thugs Colonel Aetos had been sending and he’d been summarily dealt with.

“Besides all the threats upon my life? Great!”

Andell snarled, his front claws churning the dirt beneath him.

“Not the time for jokes about that, noted.” You switched into mental communication for the next part. “How’ve you been doing? I know you know what I mean,” you thought, kindly but firmly.

A mental sigh reached you as Andell lowered his head as you approached. “This is a decent day. You?”

“I’ve had better ones in this regard. Two days ago would have been a family birthday.”

Andell’s head reached the right height as you held your hands out to either side of his face. Carefully, you held your foreheads together and just breathed. Your go-to way to comfort each other.

You smiled at him as you sat down at his feet, resting your back against his leg. You could feel Andell sigh contentedly as he curled his front around you. The two of you alone in the field, resting your weary souls together.

You were not alone in the field for long. Andell sensed it just slightly before you. He shifted his leg, protecting you between his claws as he raised his head slightly in the direction of crunching dirt.

“Hey!” A familiar male voice called, “funny catching you guys out here!”

Andell’s growl rumbled in his throat, but you placed a hand on his leg.

“Play nice,” you said, “it’s just Ridoc and Aotrom.”

Andell’s attitude did not change.

“Relax, Ridoc’s a… friend. You can trust him,” you whispered, shifting fully into telepathic communication for the next part, “I know you’re jumpy after everything but my friends aren’t part of the whole Post-Resson shit.”

“Not what I’m worried about…” Andell grumbled, his gaze flicking between Ridoc and Aotrom. “And watch your language.”

“Very funny,” you said sarcastically, earning a chuff from Andell.

“Ridoc,” you addressed, moving beyond Andell’s protection a fraction. Enough that Ridoc could reach you without getting his head bitten off, but not enough for Andell’s anxiety to spike. “What brings you by?”

“Well,” Ridoc drawled, crossing his arms behind his head as he flashed his boyish smile, “you two always seem to have fun sitting out here. I’ve had a lot on my mind, I thought it might be nice to sit out here too! Take the edge off.”

“A lot on your mind,” you said, amused, “that can’t be good. Like what?”

“Like,” Ridoc began, but then his eyes finally lit on your cheek, at the fresh purple bruise there. “Like who the hell did that to you.”

“Challenge accident, my fault” you said, easily, the go-to lie.

“Respectfully, Princess,” Ridoc said, a bit of outrage mixing with his voice, “that’s horseshit.”

“Ridoc?”

“I was at challenges with you, I watched all your fights. No one hit you there. You never let them.”

Shit. That’s right.

The dragons were silent as they watched you both, Andell taking an ever so slight step forward. He didn’t care if Aotrom was right there, if Ridoc proved to be a threat to your safety, to the fragile happiness his beloved human had to chisel out of this place with a pickaxe, he’d tear the boy to shreds.

Instead, Andell was surprised when he heard Ridoc snarl, “who did this to you?”

“Ridoc, it’s fine,” you said, “I’m putting a salve on it and it’s healing just fine. I don’t need you to-“

“Who did it?” Ridoc asked again and you fell silent. You’d never seen Ridoc this angry. Both dragons were shocked too, their heads pulled back, eyes wide.

Sensing your unwillingness to answer, Ridoc continued his tirade. “Is it some bullshit about your family? Of all the shitty things to do. I’ve seen the other marked ones beat up as well. This is about that isn’t it? You guys are being targeted.”

“Ridoc-“

Ridoc was lost in the other world that was his outrage. He was furious at the injustice of it all and said as much, “Why the fuck isn’t leadership doing anything!? You guys are already forced to be here! What more blood do they want!”

“Ridoc!” You finally shouted and he stopped, wide eyes gaping at you.

You crossed closer to him, mildly surprised that Andell did not voice any trepidation at your movement.

You placed a hand on Ridoc’s shoulder and said, “while I find your outrage on my behalf sweet, I can fight my own battles. The cadet who did this won’t be doing it again. Tyrrish kids are made of sterner stuff than most. I’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to like seeing you hurt,” Ridoc said, almost a whisper.

“Then let’s do this, hmm? We can take care of and look out for each other, stepping in when asked or absolutely necessary. That way neither of us lose our cool or pull a Dain, sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Ridoc said, “look there’s been something else I’ve wanted to tell-“

Ridoc stiffened as Aotrom spoke to him in his head, his eyes taking on that same glazed quality whenever their dragon spoke to them. Present in the moment but listening to something only for them. Once the sharpness returned to Ridoc’s eyes, he glanced fearfully up at Andell.

Your dragon stared down his snout again, blowing a stream of steam out over him. No one moved until the smoke dissipated. Ridoc’s eyes remained on Andell as the dragon stared at him again for a long moment, expecting him to run. Ridoc stayed right where he was, softly holding your hands.

Andell’s head bobbed slightly once in a way you couldn’t even figure out the meaning of.

The moment came and went as you turned back to Ridoc, “what was it you wanted to tell me?”

“Uhh…” Ridoc gulped.

The shout of your last name and Ridoc’s over the flight field suggested that the two of you had been missing for too long. Andell leveled his head in the direction of Dain’s voice and growled, loudly.

“No, no, we should go,” you said, not in the mood to pick another fight, verbal or otherwise. “I’ll see you later big guy,” you told your dragon who you could almost swear pouted before surging off into the air, Aotrom soaring quickly behind looking for all the world to be nagging your older dragon.

“Come on,” you said to Ridoc, mentally preparing for the rule laden speech you’d receive from your Wingleader.

Ridoc tried to come up with something to say, some joke to make, but for once he was at a loss for words.

Maybe appeasing your dragon was the easy part.

A/N: And yes, I am absolutely planning on writing a third part! <3

[yeompei]

mine, all mine

— ever think about what caleb would be like if you showed up to his apartment crying?

1k words, caleb x mc, angst/comfort

————————————————————————

your hands shake as you knock against the door to caleb’s apartment, eyes downcast and filled with exhaustion. This week had been hard, a bunch of wanderers had been spotted near the outskirts of linkon, meaning long and tough battles that made your body ache. along with having to do all the paperwork associated with it, you were basically stuck to your desk afterwards, only going home to sleep for a maximum of 2 hours before repeating it all over again.

the last straw was when you got injured, you’d stopped to reload your gun but a wanderer happened to be near and swiped your left arm before swiftly being shot, leading to jenna nagging you about proper reloading protocols that you would’ve appreciated if you weren’t so burnt out.

jenna’s words, which were usually filled with pride and praise, seemed to drip with frustration, lecturing you about it in front of your whole team, making your face burn and your eyes swell up with tears. though the advice came from a place of worry, you couldn’t help but feel stupid and worthless for letting your team down.

you didn’t know how you got to skyhaven, all you knew was once you got home to your empty house, you missed caleb a little more than usual. then, you were suddenly on a train in the middle of the night, even though you had work a few hours later.

caleb opened the door, a look of surprise flashed across his face before taking one look at your red eyes and ushering you inside. as you took off your shoes and coat, he asked “do you want some dinner?”, eyes filled with worry as his hand brushed across your cheek. you nodded quietly, a lump forming in your throat as you leaned into caleb’s hand.

you made your way over to the couch, sinking into the cushions as caleb quickly walked to the kitchen, grabbing you a plate of beef curry he had already cooked beforehand and handed it to you. he sat beside you, turning on the tv and the two of you sat in silence, which comforted you more than he would ever know. caleb had always understood what you needed, even if you never knew yourself and this moment just made you even more grateful for him.

after you placed your dish in the sink and returned to him, his arms were outstretched and ready to give you a hug. you gladly climbed onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat for a few seconds, sitting in the silence until he finally spoke. “[name], what happened? it’s unlike you to just show up out of no where, though i always enjoy your company” he smiled softly, brushing a hand through your hair as you lay on his chest.

“it’s just,” you let out a wobbly sigh, trying not to break into tears. you wanted to be strong for him, as he was for you. “this week has been hard, i just needed some comfort” your fingers traced absentmindedly on caleb’s old shirt, “i was on a mission and got injured, which led to jenna lecturing me in front of the team because i didn’t follow proper reload protocol” you snuggled closer into his chest, trying to avoid the gaze you could feel him giving you.

“you’re injured?” caleb’s voice hardened, pushing you backwards to look at your body. “where?” he lifted your arms and touched his palm to your forehead, analyzing everything thoroughly “no fever,” he murmured “do you need first aid? medicine?” he asked as you shook your head “i just scratched my arm, it wasn’t even bleeding that much” you moved off of him and placed your back against the couch, leaning your head on his shoulder, lifting your injured arm to show him it was fine. “see?”

“you were bleeding?” caleb’s hands grabbed your arm gently and lifted your sleeves up, staring at the bandage “should i go give those wanderers a lesson?” he said it in the joking tone, but you could tell he was being serious. you almost let out a laugh before ruffling his hair like he does for you. “those wanderers are all dead by now” caleb laughed “of course they are, pip, you’re the strongest person i know”

at those words you faltered, a small twinge of reminder flashed through you as you briefly recalled jenna’s words. “i..” you brought up your hand to your eyes, trying to hide the tears. caleb thought you were strong, and he believed in you. that alone could almost make you sob for hours. “i just feel so useless, i bet i looked so stupid in front of everyone earlier” you let out a small sob as caleb pulled you in closer and rubbed your shoulder.

“no, hey,” he grabbed your hands and lowered them from your face, looking into your tearstained eyes “it’s not your fault, everyone gets hurt and makes mistakes on the job, trust me” he brushed a strand of hair out of your face “you’re the best hunter i know, and this one mistake won’t make anyone see you any different. if your teammates take this and see you differently, than that means they’re shitty teammates and don’t deserve to be on the same team as you in the first place” he looked you in the eyes, his sincere gaze caused you to almost start crying once more, but you held it in.

“i’m sorry,” you said, wiping your tears “for crying, but thank you for everything” your voice broke “i really needed some time with you after all that” caleb grinned “of course, pip-squeak, i’ll always be there for you. this one thing doesn’t define who you are.” he pulled you in closer, your eyes feeling heavy as he whispering reassurance after reassurance into your ear. “just sleep for now, i’ll sort things out” you nodded, eyes already closed as you fell asleep in his arms, feeling the safest you’ve ever felt.

caleb had already planned what he would do for you tomorrow. but first, he had to call in some favours in order to get you and him some time off, as well as make sure he had all the ingredients to make you some homemade breakfast in the morning. he looked at your sleeping face, eyes filled with nothing but love as he held you a little tighter, as you slept peacefully for the first time in days.

[4sh-n4]

Based on ^^^ that post (kind of)

Dick and Bernard don't get along. Well, they don't hate each other but they're not best friends. They're barely friends at all. Vaguely connected acquaintances through their mutual love for Tim at most. So why is it that Dick exits his bedroom one morning (in his personal apartment!! In Bludhaven!!!) to find out that his little brother's boyfriend has set up camp in his kitchen and seems to be attempting to conduct a coup over the pathetic electrical appliances in his kitchen that he had refused to replace when he first moved in as rebellion against Bruce's need to control every aspect of his life and then had just...not gotten around to doing it because he barely ever had the energy or time to cook for himself anyways.

Dick must've made some noise of surprise because Bernard turns around from where he's currently trying to curl the wire of the toaster into different angles and shapes in hopes that it'll turn on. Bernard nods at him before turning back to his task like this is a regular situation (which it decidedly is not!! Dick thinks with a tinge of hysteria).

"What are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Making breakfast? Or well, lunch technically but they're breakfast foods and also the first meal of the day for both of us. So, brunch? I was gonna make eggs and toast but I don't think I'm going to be able to wrangle your toaster under submission anytime soon so how do you feel about pancakes?" Bernard doesn't even have the decency to turn around as he answers. Or wait for a response clearly, since he's already going through Dick's cupboards for ingredients, abandoning the failed toaster to the side.

"Uh, the flour is behind that box. Yeah, right there. How did you get in here? How did you even know where I live? And again, why are you in my house??" Dick would maybe put up more of a protest usually, but he's had a really bad time for the last couple of...forevers really, so he's decided that his new policy (decided two seconds ago) is to never refuse free pancakes from anyone. And he's not an idiot, he's stolen Tim's leftovers enough times to know that these pancakes are about to be quite possibly the best things to greet his tongue in the last week. So instead of knocking out the blonde in front of him and dumping him on Tim's doorstep, he's deciding to be the bigger person. The more mature person. Who really wants some pancakes.

"Did you know the Riddler really likes pancakes? I found out that one time he'd decided to set up his base of operations in the back of that Waffle House on main street that closed down 2 months after it opened. Probably due to the aforementioned criminal activities actually. I was looking for Condiment King's cousin, you know the one that's been stealing all the dessert sauces in Gotham to feed them to Killer Croc as some sort of weird courting ritual even though everyone knows that Killer Croc only has eyes for Ratman since they cohabitate in the Gotham sewers? I made a video on it and everything for my youtube, complete with powerpoints. That's why there's a city-wide shortage of the good strawberry sauce and I have to travel all the way to Metropolis to get some even though theirs does not taste the same, no matter what Tim says. Don't listen to Tim, he doesn't know what he's talking about when it comes to dessert sauces. Other than marmalade, he's got a pretty good tongue for that. He's got a good tongue for other things too, but don't tell him I said that, I've been trying to convince him that he needs to practice with it more and I think it's finally starting to work. Or Tim is just humouring my request to kiss him more, I'm not actually sure yet."

Dick blinks as he tries to process everything that he's just heard. He blinks a few more times, just in case that improves his comprehension and then comes to the conclusion that no, whatever Bernard is talking about makes no more sense after sitting with it for a few more seconds and also that he's currently sharing a kitchen with a madman. His brother is /dating/ a madman, oh god.

Bernard has somehow managed to find everything he needs in Dick's kitchen (how? even Dick doesn't know where he'd put the chocolate chips, he'd lost them after hiding them from Damian) . He's also too chipper for...12:30 in the afternoon. Dick needs him to take a step back and give him a few more hours to wake up on his day off, please and thank you.

Dick thinks about addressing Bernard's inane chatter but decides he has bigger things to worry about and instead says, "That answered exactly none of my questions."

He knows for a fact that he checked his locks before going to bed, and his door has Wayne manufactured (and Batman enhanced) protection that should not be able to be broken by a civilian. So if he's got a security issue, he'd like to know about it before the Joker or someone decides that Dick Grayson would make the perfect target for their next scheme.

Bernard sighs and turns to give him a put out look like he's not the one currently standing in the kitchen of someone he barely knows and is being highly inconvenienced by Dick's perfectly valid questions about his safety. Dick simply stares back silently. He does seem to realise that Dick isn't willing to just let this go, so faces the stove before actually answering his questions instead of deflecting.

"Well. If you must know, my darling boyfriend is away on urgent 'Wayne Enterprises business' in Jump City," Bernard makes sure to add the quotation marks with his fingers and turns again, this time looking at Dick dryly as if telling him just exactly what he thinks of that lie. Dick jolts in his chair, eyes widening slightly before he gets his facial features under control, feeling slightly more awake all of a sudden. As far as he knows, Bernard should have no knowledge of the family's... extracurricular activities.

Luckily (or unluckily), he isn't given the chance to respond before Bernard continues, "I heard you had the day off from Duke who was complaining about how you haven't been visiting recently and got bored enough alone that I decided to drop in. I figured your windows are probably less impenetrable than your doors to account for late night visits, similar to Tim, except you also live too high up for anyone to get up without help." (At this, Bernard rolls his eyes). "So I waited until your downstairs neighbours- that lovely couple, Belinda and Mark- left the house for date night before picking the lock for their house instead and climbing up the windows for only one floor instead of five."

What the FUCK. Where did Tim find this guy?? Does Bruce know that his son's boyfriend is a maniac? Dick gapes at the man opposite him, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. He runs his hand through his hair a few times. At least that answers the question about whether or not Bernard knows about his night time activities (HOW?).

"Okay. Okay. Wow. How do you know my downstairs neighbours?" That's definitely not the biggest concern right now, but Dick honestly and truly has no idea where to even start with the rest of it so this seems like a good point to address.

"I helped Belinda carry her groceries yesterday because Mark was at the vet with the stray cat that they're thinking of adopting because they've been feeding her for a few months."

[nicolejones412]

Out of Sync Part 2

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You've found yourself with the 107th fighting Hydra, where you meet a handsome Sergeant. But something just isn't right.

A/N: It honestly feels so good to be back, and actually feel confident enough in being back that I can set up a bit of mystery for you...

Read Part 1 here.

FIC:

"So, what's your name?"

"My name?" You turned your drink in your hands.

"Well I'm assuming Grace is your last name and now that we're on first name basis-"

"Buchannan is your middle name."

"Touche buuuut it is what I go by, so my point still stands."

"It's Charlotte."

"Charlotte Grace?"

"Yeah I know, two first names."

"No, no I like it. Sounds like a movie star's name."

You chuckled. "It does not."

"It does, and you got the looks for it too. I mean it. You could on the silver screen."

You shook your head and took a sip of your drink.

"So, at risk of derailing this whole thing, I ask my first question again. What's a beautiful woman like you doing out here?"

You thought for a moment. You'd been asked that a lot of times, but never so sincerely. For the first time you felt the urge to give an honest answer.

"I don't know. I...I just wanted to make a difference. I impressed Dr. Erskine enough to get a seat at the table, so the SSR felt like the best option I had."

"Erskine...the guy who made the...the..."

"The serum?"

"Yeah the serum that made Steve...." He motioned with is hands as he looked over at the captain.

"A specimen?"

"Yeah a - wait." He turned back to you, and you almost spit out your drink at the look on his face. He shook his head.

"I mean am I wrong?"

"No, no you're not. It's just-" He shook his head.

"I still look for Steve. Like how he always was. It'll definitely take some getting used to that's for sure."

You nodded. "That only makes sense. Change can be...scary. Off-putting."

"He is still Steve though, that's for sure."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, only Steve Rogers would be stupid enough to run into that Hydra base alone without a true exit strategy."

"And he said you were taking all the stupid with you."

Bucky laughed. "I know right! Did he tell you that story?"

You laughed along, thinking. When had you heard that story? "He must have, I guess. The past few months have been a blur."

"Ain't that the truth."

You both paused for a moment, simultaneously reflecting on the past and thinking about the future.

"So, Charlie..."

"Charlie?"

"Charlotte is a bit of a mouthful alright?"

"It's the same number of syllables."

"Still, Charlie." He looked at you pointedly to see if you would object. You just rolled your eyes and tried to hide your smile as you took a drink.

"How about we make a habit of this?"

"Of what?" Your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Maybe something bad.

Or maybe something good.

He shrugged. "Of spending time together? As friends-colleagues, of course."

"Oh yes we wouldn't want to get that confused."

"Yeah, no need for anything complicated, just, I don't know I've had a great time tonight and you would've been just sitting at your desk being boring if I hadn't-hey!" He half-heartedly protested as you shoved him.

"Alright then, Bucky. Let's be friends."

What could possibly go wrong?

-

You fell into a comfortable routine. With the SSR sticking with Captain America's Howling Commandos, you saw each other more days than not. You and Steve became good friends as well.

You were still at war though, and every time they went on a mission, you worried. You tried to tell yourself it was normal, but you knew it wasn't.

But you never felt relief when they inevitably rolled back into camp. Almost like, as much as you worried, you knew they would be back. Like it had been foolish to worry.

Weeks turned to months, until one day as they left the worry was greater than normal. You just couldn't shake that something was wrong, so you poured over every briefing and map you could get your hands on. It clicked not even 3 hours after they'd left.

"It's a trap."

"Pardon?" Peggy looked up, yawning.

You looked up at her, and before you knew what you were doing, your feet carried you to your tent to gear up before finding a vehicle.

"Charlotte! What is going on?" Peggy asked as she followed you into your shared tent.

"I have to warn them. It's a trap."

"Slow down." You weren't even looking at her, just packing everything like it was muscle memory.

"How do you know it's a trap? And why does it have to be you?"

"I don't have time to explain, and...I don't know. I can move quicker and quieter on my own and hopefully catch up to them."

When she didn't reply, you finally looked up at her. She had a knowing look on her face.

"You can't stop me."

"Oh I know. And I'll try to cover for you as best as I can. Just...don't die, alright?"

You began tucking your hair up into a tight braided bun. "You're really not gonna try to talk me out of this insane plan?"

"It would be a waste of breath. Just know I expect an invitation to the wedding."

You quickly turned back to her. "Wedding? What do you-?"

"Listen I won't argue this plan with you but don't argue the clear facts with me. I see how you look at him."

The fact that you didn't even have to question who she was talking told both of you all you needed to know.

You finished getting dressed and packing before hugging Peggy.

"Stay safe," she urged.

"I'll do my best."

-

Ok, maybe safe wasn't the right word.

You tore through the woods, not able to waste any time. You knew the exact route they were supposed to be taking, and frankly it would take a miracle for you to catch up in time, but you had to try.

You were beating yourself up the whole way. You'd known something was wrong, but they all assured you this should be a simple grab and go to catch a couple Hydra scientists.

It was too good to be true.

You found their vehicle exactly where it should be, without any of them in it.

You jumped off your bike. You knew the basic plan from here, and you just hoped they hadn't had to change it much.

You took off running for where you knew Bucky was supposed to be, trying to balance speed and stealth.

You silently thanked whoever was listening that it didn't look like the trap had been sprung yet as you arrived at the site.

Before you reached anyone else, you ran into Falsworth.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"It's a trap. The scientists aren't even here. We've got to get out of here."

Thankfully, he didn't argue much. He pointed you in the direction Bucky had gone.

You crept up to Bucky's position, finally seeing the back of his head.

Just in time to watch a bullet go through it.

And as shouting and explosions rang out, your heart was pounding.

I was too late.

Too late.

You felt a tug in your chest as you shook your head and closed your eyes, and suddenly the chaos stopped. You opened your eyes.

You were standing ten feet back from where you had been, and you could see Bucky where he'd been sitting before, you watched his head move.

You froze, before looking around you wildly for the gunman.

Your eyes found him as he raised his weapon, trained on Bucky.

Too bad for him you were quicker.

This shot was much quieter than the enemy's would have been. A suppressor does tend to help with that. But Bucky knew that sound, as well as the sound of a body hitting the ground.

He shot up, turning both his eyes and weapon to you.

"Charlie?" he whispered as his eyes widened.

"It's a trap," you blurted out, face white as a sheet. "He was going to shoot you as the signal to spring it. We don't have much time."

"How did you-?"

"No time for questions. Need to signal them and find an escape route. Now."

Bucky nodded before turning back to look through his sites. You pulled out a pair of binoculars.

Your eyes found Steve.

Get out. Get out. It's a trap. Retreat.

Steve looked around like he'd heard something, then his eyes landed on something.

That's it. Come on, it's time to go.

He shook his head, then made eye contact with someone and made a signal with his hands.

"Steve must agree with you." You turned to him.

"He just signaled a retreat."

-

A/N: Why is your name Charlotte? Is it Charlotte? Are you lying? If your name is actually Charlotte pretend I wrote Sharon and he calls you Sherry ok I don't know what else to tell you.

[nickandjuneendgame]

Nick and June scene

Today, for my first post ever, I'd like to talk about one scene in particular. Obviously, I love all the Nick-June scene ( I mean, I'm literaly obsessed with them, but I'm keeping that for another post. And for my therapist 😅).

So, in season 2 episode 13, we have, for me, one of the most beautiful scene between Nick and June ever. It's one of my favorite and let me tell you why.

In this scene, June is in her bedroom after being slapped by Fred just a moment before. ( She slapped him back as well, and gosh, it felt so good !!! You go girl !!! ). Rita is in the room with her and a moment after, who's coming too ? Our dear Nick ! He looked upset, worried for June. As she walks by him, Rita says " You're girlfriend is a badass ! ". And then, he smiled. Not just because he found that funny, but because, for the first time, someone called June his girlfriend. Not offred. Not the handmaid. Not even June. But his girlfriend. Someone else knows about them being together. It's not just their secret anymore. Someone they can both trust is aware of what's going on between them. Maybe not fully, but enough. And we can see on his face that this is something big to him. Something he never could, or hoped to hear one day. " Your girlfriend".

June told him " it's okay" as soon as Rita leaves the room. She repeated that multiple times, because she knows that Nick needs to hear that. Not just because he's worried about her but because he feels so much guilt, so much sadness about Eden. Eden just got murdered for falling in love with someone else. And he feels like he should have been nicer to her, that it's his fault, in a way, that she died. And he can't forgive himself for that. But in the same time, he loves June so much ( and Eden being only 15, let's be honest) I don't think he was able to handle things differently without feeling like he betrayed June and the way he feels about her. And we can see all that just by the look in the eyes of Max. What an amazing actor, really ! No words, not a single one, but we still see how much pain he's in just with his eyes. And June knows it too. Of course she knows. So she stands up, walks towards him and gently touch his cheek saying that it's okay. And we can see Nick truly showing his vulnerability, his fragility to June ( and to us ) perhaps for the first time. He didn't hide it anymore to protect June or himself. He is his true self at this exact moment. He desperately needed June to comfort him, to show him that this is not his fault. That he is not alone. Because Nick always had to be alone in his life. Not because he wanted to. But because people always bailed on him. He never had someone he can rely on. Until June. He always had June's back. He always protected her. But who protected him ? Who was there for him when he desperately needed it ? With whom can he show his true self, his true feelings ? June is his person. The one who he had and will fight for. And at that moment, he needed to hear that everything is gonna be okay. That he's not alone anymore. That he can rely on someone, on June. And June knows that. That's why this moment is so important. I like that we were able to see Nick's fragility and to see June saving him where we were used to see Nick saving her over and over again. He finally can show who he is, his failures, his weeknesses and be open. He needed that so much. And we can see that with only his expressions, his body language, without a single word.

After that, June takes Nick to finally see his daughter. Something he wanted for so long ! Something he never thought he could do. We never saw Nick so full of emotions before. Holding his daughter in his arms, with June by his side, is something that he was longing for so long. He didn't think he would ever be able to do that. And once more, we can see all of that with only his body language, his expressions, his eyes. For a moment, they are a real family. And it's important because that's something he really wanted but can't have in gilead. To be a family with June and their baby. This scene, with Nick holding his baby in his arms for the first time ( and in his head, perhaps for the last time ) is magical. We can see how much it means for both of them. And that shot where we see Rita smiling watching them! This small moment of pure happiness, so rare in Gilead.

And then, the first " I love you " from June to Nick. The first time she acknowledge her feelings for him, out loud. The first time she really opens up to him in this way. And he needed to hear those words. We can see how relief he is, how much it means to him to hear that she, in fact, really loves him. He always doubted that she can ever really feels this way about him. That he was worthy of her love. I think, deep down, that he always thought that she was too good for him. He said it himself later in the show : " I'm nothing ". But in that moment, the first time she says I love you, he truly believes her. He has her love, and they are a family. That's all he ever wanted. Even if it's just for a while. This moment is theirs. A beautiful bubble of happiness in this horrible world.

So, that's it. That's why this scene means so much to me. I can watch it and watch it all over again and never be bored of it. ( In fact, I can never be bored of any of their scenes actually 😅). I'm so sorry for my bad english, this is not my language. I hope that it's understandable.

What about you ? What is your favorite scene, or at least one of your favorite ? The one that you could watch over and over again ?

[chaoscreaturewrites]

Call of duty, Captain Price, fluff, lil hurt/ comfort ish, domestic, injured reader

Walked right into him

Summary: y/n gets injured and blinded in a work accident. She keeps running into(literally) a kind man at the hospital who gives her his number. It's her first storm alone and the powers gone out and she's panicking. She calls him for help and he solves everything.

Notes: tw for injuries

WC: 2.9k

She always knew her job was dangerous, but more in a hypothetical way, only if you're an idiot way but today she learned it really is dangerous and things can go wrong no matter how many safety measures are put in place.

A hundred safety measures were put in place, a long ass protocol just to enter the lab but it wasn't prepared for what happened today. She was working on making a new compound, and she did, but it was extremely unstable causing an explosion the lab wasn't prepared for.

She was rushed to the hospital with shattered safety glass embedded in her body, she didn't miss the irony of ‘safety glass’.

Glass was embedded all over her with a large shard in her left eye and microscopic glass in her right. They tried to save her left eye in surgery but were unsuccessful. She's now almost fully blind.

Her boyfriend takes her home after being laid up in bed for 2 weeks. As they are walking through the lobby she walks into someone's shoulder and starts apologizing, emotion building in her voice, she's so embarrassed and feels horrible that she'll have to get used to this.

“ don't worry a thing darling, it's alright”

Her boyfriend also apologizes to the man and takes her arm leading her away.

Price makes his way upstairs to meet the others to visit Simon. Johnny asks why he's got that stupid smirk plastered on his face, but he only shrugs in response. It was only just a run in with that cute woman, who's obviously already taken, but still she made him smile like a fool.

3 weeks later she's at the hospital for a check up, but this time she's all alone. The check up goes well and she gets fitted for a prosthetic and decides to get a glittery eye, cause why not.

Her doctor offers to walk her out but she declines, she makes it up with minimal help and the hospital is pretty much the only place she can wander around safely with lots around who can help.

So she goes to try and make her way to the elevator but as she turns a corner she walks right into someone and drops her cane. Again she starts apologizing but is met with that deep voice again.

“I'm all good, are you alright darling”

“I'm okay, just dropped my cane”

“ oh let me get that for ya”

Next thing she knows her cane's being placed back in her hand and she feels a light brush of his warm rough hand against hers.

“your the man from last time, the one who smelled so good”

“ What exactly do I smell like?”

He's thrilled she remembers him, he didn't want to come across as a creep saying he remembered her, but is very glad she remembered him.

“ Smokey, warm, sweetness like caramel, maybe a lil motor grease, makes me picture a log cabin with a cozy fire, a glass of something dark and an old car that's a passion project… oh umm eh sorry that was way to much”

“ that's lovely and impressive”

He can see by the redness of her cheeks she's embarrassed by getting overly personal with a stranger but that moment, her description won him over. He already had a spark of interest for her within him but her words have added kindling forming a flame.

“ do you need a hand”

“I'm trying to find the elevator. I'm pretty sure it's this way, right?”

“ im afraid its behind you”

“ i always took for granted being able to remember floor plans but once there are no visual landmarks you realize how little you remember, but yes i could use a hand”

She reaches out and he works with her moving so she can grab onto his forearm. He's amused as she gives him a little test squeeze, he doesn't miss her tiny quick smile.

He walks them to the elevator and leads her in, he notes how she's forgone her cane in favor of trusting his lead.

“Would it be inappropriate of me to ask what happened?”

“ I don't mind, there was an accident at my lab, I accident discovered a very, very unstable compound and was pretty much sprayed with glass shards at a high velocity”

“ like a frag grenade, it explodes and sends shards of shrapnel, does devastating damage”

“ Yeah, doctors said I got luckily the big shard could have went into my heart instead of face”

“ luckily indeed”

“But enough about him,how come i've run into you twice here, that's not in the odds”

“ my friend, coworker was in an accident and he's a bit of a stubborn pain to put it nicely, so we come and visits him, bring him his favorite tea and give the nurses a break”

“ Even though he's like that, you're still doing all that for him?”

“ he's very rough on the outside and most can't understand what's in him but we've got eachothers backs, when ones down we're there”

“ that's amazing, truly”

“ Do you have someone helping you out?”

“ not anymore, once my boyfriend saw i could microwave food and get around the house okay he left me”

“ i don't mean to offend but he sounds like an immature selfish ass”

“ yeah wasn't too much a loss really”

“ So how are you getting home?”

“Oh the hospital has a service, there's a van that will take me home”

Following the hospital's signs he's able to find the right place to leave her but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to leave it to chance that she will run into him again. He pulls out a business card hoping to give her his number.

Her vision is very very low meaning she can make out colored blurry shapes but can't really define what the shapes are, or are doing. So she sees him doing something but can't logically narrow down his actions.

“ what are you doing?”

“ oh, well I was going to give you my card but”

“ I have an app that reads things to me”

She reaches her hand out making a grabbing motion a child would do for more snacks, then lays her palm out flat waiting. He hands over his card, amused by her dramics.

3 weeks later the first big storm since she's lost her sight hits and everything goes to crap. Her power has gone out but she sees her neighbors still have light, the solution is to flip the fuse but she can't read it and her app won't recognize the chicken scratch. Her big flashlight died and her phone flashlights didn't do shit for her. She walked into something sharp and might be bleeding but is panicked too much to know.

She's sitting on the floor leaning against the wall crying, panicking and needs help. She's about to call her ex and beg for help but then remember the good smelling man who called her darling and offered her help.

“ this is Captain Price”

“ its y/n, i.. i need help”

That's all he needed to hear, instantly he got in his truck and headed to her place. He could hear the raw emotion in her voice and knew she had tried to deal on her own but had broken down to the point she was stuck and needed someone else, he's just glad she turned to him.

She hears the knock at her door and does her best to make it there without another injury.

“Hello darling”

“ hi”

He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. He heard her distress but now seeing it is a different thing. He can see she's been crying and looks like she's scraped her knee.

“ tell me the problem I'll fix it”

“ i can't read the fuse box, my flashlight died and I can't see shit in the dark and I walked into something sharp”

“ where's the fuse box”

“ laundry room off the kitchen”

“ You stay here, I'll be right back, okay?”

“Okay”

The house sparks back to life and her small field of vision now returns. She wipes away her stray tears as she notes the tall spot of color coming towards her.

“Take my hand and I'll get you patched up”

She reaches out and feels that familiar rough warmth, but this time it's not a passing brush but a full enclosing grip over her hand. She follows his light tug and they make their way to the couch, she recognizes the feeling of the couch cushions feel behind her legs and sits down.

“ where's your medicine kit”

“ under bathroom sink”

They reluctantly release their hand hold as he goes to get the kit. He's glad to find she has a property stocked first Aid kit instead of just a pack of bandaids.

“ okay let's see what we got here”

He goes to lift her pant leg but finds the cuff of her sweatpants won't go up high enough. He doesn't want to make her feel awkward but she'll need to remove her pants. To him it's not a big deal, in the military you get used to just stripping but he's not sure how to approach this with her. Luckily for him she broaches the subject first.

“Do i need to take them off”

“ Yes”

He can't muster any other response than a one word answer.

“ so much time in the hospital I've gotten used to stripping”

“ same thing for me but from military”

“ so I guessed right”

“ huh”

“ with your knowledge of frag grenades, and they way you described your coworkers and well I've felt your arm so”

While she removed her sweatpants he kept his gaze up but now that she's seated again he looks and his heart skipped a beat, her legs are covered in bruises.

“ y/n… how did this happen”

“ I walked into so-”

“ not that, the bruises”

“ it's been rough learning to get around, I didn't think it was that bad though”

“ No, no it's alright I just, just thought-”

“ you thought I was being hurt by someone”

“ at first glance it looks that way”

She reaches out her hand hoping her aim is towards his shoulder or the side of his face, in hopes of connecting and comforting him. By the soft bristle she feels under her fingertips she learns 2 things about him, he has a beard and takes very good care of it. Ever so lightly she strokes his beard, pausing when she feels the slight weight of him resting his cheek in her palm.

This man who she barely knows, in all their encounters he has shown her such kindness, compassion and he's never treated her as anything less than capable. He offers help but he never demens her or makes her feel less than like others.

He gets a bit lost in the tender moment, the feeling of her soft touch, the flame within roaming into a bonfire. His eyes drifted shut as he relaxed into her palm. As he blinked he saw another glimpse of her legs and remembered how they got here.

“ let me get you patched up”

“ oh yes, that”

Her hand goes back to her lap, resting with the other as she lazily taps her fingers. Her face only twitches a little bit as he uses the alcohol wipe, he's amused by her stoicism, just like Simon the grin and bare it type.

“ There you go all done”

“ thank you, Captain Price”

He notes her playful tone as his name rolls off her tongue and is very amused by her teasing. He knows she's referencing how he answered the phone, and now that all her problems have been solved she's having some fun with him. He's glad to see the change from her distressed crying state when he arrived.

“ that's my name don't wear it out”

His cheesy joke for the win, he made her laugh and oh he's gonna try forever to hear that again.

“ any other problems for me to solve”

“ no you've done it all”

“ you sure?”

“Well i guess we could use some dinner”

“ on it”

Like a man on a mission he heads to the kitchen ready to ace one of the most crucial tests of building a relationship: can you serve them a good meal?

“ wait, we should order something I barely have anything”

“ I'm sure I can scrounge something up Darling, don't you worry”

“ You're a stubborn man aren't you?”

It's true he is stubborn and has been told so in many very creative and less polite ways. On any task or mission he does, he sets out to succeed. He makes that his only option in mind, he calls this a good successful mindset others call it stubborn and pigheaded, but so be it his track record shows the truth.

Surely enough he finds what he needs and prepares some grilled chicken breast and rich, creamy cheese pasta. Using someone's kitchen can tell you a lot about them, he learns a few things; she's a baker or was, everything has a place organized ,it's all cute and stylized, and this girl likes cheese.

“ whatcha making?”

“ grilled chicken and cheese pasta”

“ ahh so you found the cheese drawer”

He can't help the chuckle that escapes him and just hopes he doesn't hurt her feelings. He's in no way judging, his kitchen tells a story as well, one of living alone and drinking whiskey with lots of sandwiches.

“ yes quite a variety”

“ cheesy, buttery pasta is one of my favorite foods, probably the favorite”

“ perfect that's one of my specialties”

“ i'll set the table, or try, i've been working on relearning things, only broken a few dishes”

“ failure is the road to success just gotta keep at it”

“ exactly, keep trying”

It takes multiple trips back and forth but she does get the table set. Her initial error was trying to do things like she used to, like carrying all things at once then laying them out. Now it takes a few trips but it still gets done and no broken shards on the floor she can't find till it's so late.

He brings over the food and plates it for them both. He waits watching to see her reaction, breath held, this is the moment, will he win her heart with his food or crush his chances.

She takes a bite of the pasta and immediately goes for more, he takes that as a good sign that he's hopefully winning her over with his cheesy food and cheesy jokes.

She over ate a bit but it was just too good, cheesy pasta is her kryptonite and now the food coma is hitting.

“ can you get the dishes, food coma is hitting, that was so good”

“ of course, go sit”

After washing up he joins her on the couch, his own food coma hitting as well. He may have made the food just a bit too rich but not complaints.

She reaches into the couch cushions between them and pulls out a remote, he finds that a rather clever place to keep the remote. He waits to see what happens as she presses buttons and seconds later music starts to play from a really good sound system he can't seem to locate.

“ where are they speakers the sounds great”

“ when got the place I did some renovations, look around you see the extra air vents”

“ there in the walls?”

“Yep”

“That's genius”

They lounge on the couch together, listening to surround sound music. Neither of them could say when it happened,but they ended up holding hands. First subconsciously seeking out the other, then their fingertips touched and now they have ended up with his hand enclosed around hers as her thumb stoke against his palm.

“ I used to believe in fate but when I woke up in that bed and they told me the damage, it broke everything I believed in but slowly I'm rebuilding, your a big contributor to that Price, thank you”

“ you've done it all on your own”

“ yeah but you helped so accept the thanks or you'll learn I'm stubborn too”

“ alright Darling I accept”

[A different time, week later maybe]

He came over unannounced with a bag of groceries and told her they were going to bake. He watched the biggest smile light up her face and he knew he made the right call.

They both got a bit messy with the flour but had a grand time baking. They make a tray of chocolate chip cookies and an apple pie.

She even started to cry as she thanked him, baking was one of her big passions, a hobbie she always did and was so proud of and it was a loss that really hurt. He wipes away her tears and assures he's always up to come over and bake, put his muscles to use hand whisking and kneading dough.

He's reluctant to share his secret with the guys but they keep asking about his foolish smile, abundance of texts and voice messages, and the baked goods he brings for lunch.

He talks to her, making sure she's okay with it first because he knows once they know about her they will want to meet her. His secret little gem.

They all adore her and she loves her new social circle. She'd lost most of friends after her accident; they either distanced themselves or treated her weird and she left them. The guys welcome her and include her, they don't treat her like she's any different and they all love her baked goods and killer sound system.

Can also check out my cod master list and see if you'd like to be tagged for future works about specific characters

[amirsnothere]

Found Home - pt 2

Bucky X Reader

Series Warnings: slow-burn, swearing, shouting, slight violence, pregnant reader (with another man's baby), Bucky's trauma, reader has trauma, mentions of verbal & physical abuse (let me know if there's more!)

Summary: Bucky confronts his asshole neighbor, and offers his non-asshole neighbor a helping hand.

Word Count: 1,400

Pt 1 Pt 2

You rubbed your eyes harshly into the collar of your shirt, wincing as you tried to get rid of your tears. As they soaked away into your collar, more tears quickly replaced them.

Another knock at the door. You raised your eyebrows worriedly at Garett, asking a silent question - what were you supposed to do? You sighed and began to turn your feet in the direction of the door.

"I'll fuckin' get it" Garett grumbled, shoving you behind him. His body blocked you from view of whoever was at the door. He didn't give a greeting, just gave an expectant grunt.

"Hey neighbor, I don't think we've met! I live next door. I think I'm looking for your wife -" You heard your name. Your bleary eyes turned again to the conversation at the door, but you still couldn't see around Garett, not to mention, your tears made everything so damn blurry anyways. "I found these gloves in the stairwell, I think they might belong to her? I know the weather has been getting cooler, and I'd hate for her to go without them.”

It was barely September.

"Yeah man, I'll get them to her.”

"So, you recognize them? I was hoping maybe she could look at them to confirm they're actually hers? I know a couple women live on the floor.”

If you couldn't tell that Garett was frustrated from the way his back tensed and shifted alone, his gruffening tone would have done the trick.

"I have no clue, look man, now's not really a good time.”

You dared yourself to take a step closer to the conversation at the door.

"Of course, man, I don't want to be a bother at all, I just wanted to make sure she had them. You sure she's not free for a second?”

"No-”

"Yeah, I can take a look at them!" Your voice came out weak, and as a surprise even to yourself. Garett finally turned to you. The look in his eyes sent ice down your spine. You clenched your teeth and gave a tight lipped smile at the now revealed visitor, your sweet neighbor, Bucky. Of course, he lived next door, you almost forgot. You didn't know much about him personally, of course, you knew about him vaguely from the news over the past decade, but you never brought it up with him, or looked too far into anything. He was always kind when you ran into him in the hallway.

You squeezed a place next to Garett in the doorway, choosing to ignore the way his eyes bore into the side of your head. You ignored Bucky's gaze as well. You didn’t want to hear any of the silent messages anyone was trying to send you. Instead, you focused intently on the offering in Bucky's hands.

After a moment, you recognized the gloves, but they didn't belong to you, or any other woman in the complex for that matter. Reflective material lined the wrists of the otherwise black snow gloves - a staple model from the convenience store down the street. You had bought them the previous February, after a couple weeks had passed noticing Bucky shoveling snow around your apartment building without gloves. You also told him to stop by anytime he needed a hot drink. He never did stop by, but every time you saw him in the snow after that, he would send a gloved wave and a smile your way.

"Do you need.... Gloves?" His eyes held an intensity when you finally looked up. You noticed his eyes darting all around, as if scanning for something - your eyes, your face, your body, the room behind you.

Your eyes burned from all the tears you had shed. You tried to force them not to water again.

Your voice barely came out as a whisper, "yes.”

What happened next was a complete blur to you. Bucky's grip on your wrists was careful but firm, as he quickly pulled you out into the hallway, his back shielding you as he swung his fist directly into your Fiance's gut.

Bucky didn't have any furniture in his kitchen or living room. If not for a neatly folded blanket and pillow on the floor, and a birdhouse attached to the outside of a window, you never would have guessed that anyone lived here.

You sat on the hard floor, knees pulled to your chest, the remnants of half-a-roll of toilet paper lay next to you as you blew your nose for what felt like the thousandth time.

It has been nearly an hour since Bucky had nearly left your fiance unrecognizable in the apartment next door, warning him he had until the next day to be moved out of your apartment, and if he ever came near you again, he may not live to regret it.

Your private, helpful, and kind neighbor had beaten up and threatened to kill your fiance. You didn't even know how to begin to wrap your head around anything going on at that point, but underneath all the pain, frustration and confusion, a subtle strength of relief settled in your chest. Next door, you could hear Garett stomping around, probably packing away any traces of his life, as Bucky had told him to.

A deep grumble from your stomach interrupted your quiet sobs.

Bucky held a soft gaze as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“You need food. And somewhere to sleep. Are you ok to move?”

You blinked at him. Your brain still felt so fuzzy, you couldn't really connect the dots on what he was saying.

“I don't really have any food here. Or a bed to offer you. But I know a place we can go, if you're up for it.”

Your stomach growled again. Your head trembled in a subtle nod.

“Do you have a car? I can drive, but I don't want to make you cling onto my bike right now. Or I can call one of those ride app things - Oover? Whatever it's called.”

You wiped your nose against the sleeve of your shirt one last time.

“I left my stuff next door. But I can pay you back for an Uber later?”

Bucky hoisted himself off the ground. Your eyes followed him as he walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from an otherwise bare cupboard, and filled it at the sink. He handed the full glass to you, nodding his head to you to drink it.

“Don't worry about it. I might need you to help place the order though. I'm not very familiar with the apps.”

Bucky let you take his phone, watching curiously over your shoulder as you pressed the desired buttons.

Now you just had to wait a little longer.

You nursed the water as Bucky made some phone calls. When the glass was empty, he silently took it from you, refilling it before encouraging you to keep drinking. You accepted gratefully.

“I think the uber is here. Are you okay to move?”

You nodded, accepting his extended hand. Your head spun as he helped pull you up. Suddenly you felt incredibly nauseous. Great, perfect timing. But you were sure that the fact you were incredibly dehydrated at this point didn't help. You brought one hand to your mouth, the other one grasping at his hand as you started to sway on your feet. His hands quickly moved to hold you more securely at your sides, your free hand moved to grab onto his shoulder for stability as you gagged on nothing.

“Woah, Doll. You alright? I can carry you if you're not able to move right now!”

Oh shit. You tried to push him away, but his hold on you remained secure. You quickly leaned the opposite direction from him, throwing up all the water you had managed down and a couple tablespoons of bile on the floor. At least you hadn’t gotten any on him. Your eyes began to sting in that familiar way again, but you had nothing left to cry.

“Ok.” He whispered, leaning down and picking you up, one arm supporting your legs as the other securely held you to him. “Don't worry, I can clean that up tomorrow.” He assured you as you tried to hide your face from him the best you could, sobbing dryly.

“I think we can agree this place needed a little spicing up anyways.”

[laursdomain]

Bodhi Durran Week 2025 Masterlist

Day 1 - Right Hand

wherever you go, that's where i'll follow

pairing: b. durran & x. riorson genre: platonic + angst synopsis: Bodhi is Xaden’s right hand, which has been in place since they were children. With new developments, Xaden is attempting to change what has been planned for them by their parents. Bodhi, who hates change, can’t help but fight back against his cousin. 

Day 2 - Mirror

don't let it break you down

pairing: b. durran x reader genre: angst synopsis: Being a carbon copy of Xaden Riorson is never easy. Bodhi Durran has learned to deal with it over the years, but there are times a push turns into a shove. He needs his solace and grounding, and you’re the only one who can provide that to him, proving to him that he is not lesser than his cousin.

Day 3 - Signet Counter

chasing pavements

pairing: b. durran & i. cardulo genre: platonic + angst synopsis: Manifesting signets is based on who riders are at their core. Based on what they need. What could Bodhi Durran and Imogen Cardulo possibly need to manifest their signets? After all, they may have some of the most rare signets of their year–why them? Bodhi can’t help but revisit past memories to realize why he manifested signet countering of all signets.

Day 4 - Perfect

you look perfect tonight

pairing: b. durran x reader genre: fluff synopsis: Days after Bodhi’s breakdown from Carr’s comment, all you want to do is show Bodhi how much you love him. A simple act of gift-giving turns into whispered confessions of your adoration for him, telling him how perfect he is. It isn’t until he begins to believe your words that you relent, adoring the way you can change his perspective of himself.

Day 5 - Windows

i’m addicted to the ‘if only’

pairing: b. durran x cuir genre: angst synopsis: Bodhi Durran has always been second to everything and everyone–except for his dragon. Bodhi can’t help but brood and allow malicious thoughts to plague his mind as he watches his cousin have Bodhi be a second choice again. These thoughts spiral out of control, creating tensions and confessions between the two relatives. It might just ruin their relationship.

Day 6 - Soft

to be revealed

pairing: b. durran x reader genre: fluff synopsis: to be revealed

Day 7 - Free Day

to be revealed

pairing: b. durran x oc genre: fluff synopsis: to be revealed

[brinasheqrt]

Overthinking P2

pairings - sabrina carpenter x fem!reader

warnings - none, only if you squint

wc - 1.8k

a/n: i had two requests to do a part 2 so here you are!

You’re half-asleep on the couch again, still wrapped in that same blanket like it’s some kind of safety net. Your phone’s in your hand, voicemail from Sabrina played and replayed until you can practically hear her voice without pressing play.

“I haven’t stopped loving you. Not even for a second.”

You whisper it to yourself like a spell. Like maybe if you say it enough, your mind will finally believe it.

There’s a soft click from the front door.

You jolt up.

You weren’t expecting her for another day.

The door opens slowly, quietly, like it knows it’s been too long.

And then she’s there.

Sabrina.

Backlit by the hallway light, hair a little messy from the plane, oversized hoodie draped over a tour tee, suitcase behind her, keys in one hand, her eyes locked straight onto you like she’s afraid you might vanish if she blinks.

You just sit there, frozen, like your heart hasn’t caught up yet.

“Hi,” she breathes.

And suddenly you’re moving.

The blanket hits the floor. You’re off the couch and across the room in three big, uneven steps and she drops everything—keys, bag, maybe her heart too—just to catch you.

Your arms wrap around her so tight you wonder if you might bruise. She smells like airport coffee and the lavender shampoo you left in her suitcase weeks ago. Her arms close around you and the second she squeezes, you fall apart.

You bury your face in her neck and just breathe.

You don’t realize you’re crying until she’s whispering, “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

You cling to her like a lifeline, like she might disappear again if you let go.

“I missed you so much,” you choke out, voice raw and too soft and too honest. “I thought— I thought maybe…”

“I know,” she whispers, pulling back just enough to cup your face in both hands. Her thumbs brush gently beneath your eyes. “I know what you thought. I’m sorry I gave you space to even think it.”

You nod, barely.

Her eyes search your face like she’s memorizing you all over again.

“You look tired,” she says, voice full of that same softness she used to use when tracing lazy patterns on your back. “Have you been sleeping at all?”

“Not really,” you admit.

Sabrina frowns. “Baby…”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. I just— My brain wouldn’t turn off. I kept thinking… maybe I was too much. Too clingy. Too sensitive.”

Her expression melts into something warm and pained and adoring all at once.

“Okay, first of all,” she says, gently nudging her forehead against yours, “you are exactly the right amount of everything. Too much love? That’s not a real thing. I’m lucky you love me the way you do.”

You close your eyes. Her breath is soft against your lips.

“And second,” she adds, “you can be clingy all you want. I like when you need me. I want you to need me. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to shrink just because I’m far away.”

You let out a shaky exhale, and she kisses it right off your lips.

It’s the kind of kiss that says I’m sorry and I missed you and I’m not going anywhere all at once.

When she finally pulls back, her hands stay on your cheeks.

“Let me take care of you now, yeah?” she whispers.

You nod. Because yeah. You’re so tired of holding yourself together.

⸻

She gets you water. Warm socks. Turns off the harsh overhead light and clicks on the soft lamp instead. Puts on that playlist you made together, the one you swore you’d use for lazy Sunday mornings that somehow never came.

Then she pulls you onto the couch, climbs into your lap like she never wants to be more than an inch from you ever again.

You melt into her.

Her legs tangle with yours, arms around your waist, cheek pressed to your shoulder like you’re her favorite pillow in the whole world.

You both stay like that for a long, long time.

“I could feel you missing me,” she murmurs after a while, voice barely louder than the music. “Even from across the world. It ached.”

You sniff, smiling despite yourself. “You always say stuff like that and make me cry again.”

She grins into your hoodie. “Sorry. No I’m not.”

Your fingers run lazily through her hair, and she practically purrs.

“I was so scared you’d fallen out of love with me,” you admit softly, like the words themselves might bite.

She pulls back enough to look you in the eyes.

“I am so in love with you,” she says with conviction that makes your chest ache in the best way. “I think about you when I brush my teeth. When I’m about to step on stage. When I see something funny and I can’t send it ‘cause you’re asleep. You are in everything I do.”

You blink fast.

“And if I ever forget to call again,” she adds seriously, “you’re allowed to fly to wherever I am and yell at me in person.”

You giggle. “I wouldn’t yell. I’d just dramatically cry on your suitcase.”

“Even better,” she says, grinning. “Ultimate guilt tactic.”

You rest your forehead against hers. “Promise me you’ll always call. Even if it’s two minutes.”

“I promise,” she says instantly. “Even if it’s just to say hi and send you a virtual forehead kiss.”

You hum. “You can send a real one now.”

She leans in and kisses your forehead with the kind of care that feels like a blanket fresh from the dryer.

“Again,” you say, teasing.

She kisses it again.

And again.

And again.

Soon she’s peppering soft kisses all over your face, mumbling I missed you between each one until you’re laughing and crying and clinging to her all over again.

She holds your face in both hands like it’s precious. Like it’s home.

“I’m here now,” she says.

And the wildest part? For the first time in days, your brain believes her.

[sunkissedlouis]

.