#I will ramble about sea life if you ask me too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-milk-monarch · 5 months

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Aquarium Date HCs for Connor and Ralph (separately) I love sea life so I love the idea of pointing out different fish to my fictional crushes :0 (maybe just date hcs in general tho??)

☣︎ hell yeah phish and first dbh ask 👏🙌 Sorry in case they're OOC or I got some fish trivia wrong. I'm not an expert lol btw I love to do the same, just with dog breeds ✌ I wanted to write general dating headcanons as well, but I didn't want the post to be too all over the place, so feel free to ask for more if you liked this rendition of the boys

【 AQUARIUM DATE 】 ☢︎ | gender-neutral reader ☢︎ | Detroit Become Human ☢︎ | Connor | Ralph

【 Connor 】

Since he used to be a working android and didn't have a lot free will while not being a deviant, Connor liked going out with you a lot.

He was never interested in fish, but when you mentioned going to the aquarium he was a bit curious.

"Hm, the aquarium? Yeah, I'd like to go." He said as he looked at you with attentiveness in his eyes.

You were excited to point out each and every fish to him, although you were a bit worried Connor would be able to just- search the internet and get to know everything about them from the start.

He was a grade A android and detective after all.

You hoped he wouldn't get bored of you rambling about it.

As you arrived to the fancy building, Connor took notice of the big glass tunnel.

He didn't comment anything, but you could see that he looked at the fish that swam above his head with curiosity

"That's a nurse shark." You pointed out with a slightly excited smile as you noticed the creature swim behind the glass. Connor looked the way you pointed, raising his brow with calm interest. "Ginglymostoma cirratum. The elasmobranch fish in the family Ginglymostomatidae." He came up with the info on the spot. He knew you were interested in the topic, so he wanted to impress and relate to you. You chuckled softly at his "knowledge" as you lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Hey- I'm supposed to be the fish expert here." You lightheartedly pointed out. "Right. Of course, tell me more then. I'd love to listen." He quickly let you take the scene. You smiled at his mindfulness. "This one's a pilchard. But more commonly known as, well, sardine. The same one you can buy at the market." You came up with more information as you observed Connor listening to you diligently. "It's interesting to actually see them swim in their natural habitat. At least, as natural as you can get." He mentioned lightheartedly. "Yeah. Like, people eat those." You said playfully, watching him smile at your comment.

Time went by quick as you pointed out a lot of fancy and regular fish that appeared near you, excited with each new one that showed on your radar.

Connor loved listening to you express yourself about the thing you were passionate about.

You previously had some worries about him getting bored while you were there, but he never shown a sign of annoyance.

But it couldn't be further from the truth, he was looking at you with never ending curiosity.

Time came for you to visit the touchpool.

"Can you actually touch the fish?" Connor looked at the pool, raising his brow calmly. You chuckled slightly. "Yes. That's what it's for. Go on. Touch the starfish." Connor looked at the water one more time before gently placing his hand inside. You could see the flow of emotions on his face as the invertebrate made contact with his cyberskin. It showed curiosity, then confusion, then a bit of- disgust? He took his hand out slowly, but you could see a bit of aversion in his movement. "Did you not like it?" You asked with a silly smile on your face. "It was- interesting. But i'd rather not touch it again." He commented with fake professionalism, trying to hide his distaste towards the feeling. It made you giggle. "Really? That bad? Aren't you used to touching dead bodies and stuff?" You asked amused. "I am. But that's different. Somehow, this creature seems to- somehow get me. In a bad way." He explained. The fact that Connor, the android who was used to far much worse things than you could survive through, was disgusted by the little starfish made you giggle. "Alright, you don't gotta touch it. But I'll tell you some interesting facts about it instead." You suggested, smiling at him. "Yeah, that sounds good." The corners of his lips turned up as he reciprocated the calm smile.

Connor spent rest of the day with you talking his ear off, but he didn't mind in the slightest, and even asked you for elaboration and more facts on some fish he found interesting with.

He reminisces the trip with you there very fondly, although he gets a bit annoyed when you sometimes tease him about the starfish incident.

In a lighthearted way of course.

【 Ralph 】

He was a bit hesitant to go somewhere where there's a lot of people at first.

His fear of humans still persisted, but it was greatly lessened when he got you in your life.

Although he's still shy and a bit anxious in public.

Nonetheless, when you told him what an aquarium is, he was a bit curious.

You reassured him that if anything happens, you will leave.

He nodded a bit unsure, but he trusted you'd make the right call, so he agreed.

He was very fidgety and anxious at first, but his demeanor changed once he saw the colorful creatures.

Ralph was never in a place with so many different kinds of fish before!

He was probably even more excited than you when he got into the zone.

You tried to pick the rooms with less or zero people around so Ralph would feel more comfortable.

But after he got mesmerized by the fishies, his fear was kinda skimmed over.

He did get scared by a moray eel though.

"Ralph does not like that fish!" He pointed out, upset at the scary monster behind the glass. You laughed softly. "It's a moray eel." "Ralph does not like moray eels." He repeated with a frown, although he was still slightly curious about it. In like a car-crash type of way. You looked around the tank, wanting to find some "nicer" fish to show him. "How about this one?" You pointed out at the sea horse. He looked at it with interest, tilting his head a little, which you thought was very adorable. "Hm... Ralph likes this one better." He said with conviction with made you chuckle slightly. "The males actually carry the eggs." You came up with a random trivia about them. It was actually a decently known fact about them, but Ralph being Ralph obviously didn't know it. "Huh?" He tilted his head once more. "It's to ensure their survival. Both mom and dad work together." You pointed out some more nerdy facts with a smile as you observed his reaction. "Hm... Ralph thinks the seahorses are nice." He came up to the glass, putting his hands on it to get a better view. "And interesting!"

After he got a bit more comfortable being t the aquarium, he would run around the place, following the fishes that swam above his head in the tunnel and ask you about them.

"What's that fish called? And that? And those small ones? Oh, what about that big one!" He pointed out lots of different types, making you a bit lost with answering as his questions were so quickly coming.

He's the type to just- poke the glass.

He's curious, you can't blame him.

He'll stop if you tell him to, though.

If there's a petting pool he must see it.

Tell him how to interact with it beforehand though, as he might get a bit- rough with his touches.

"Ralph put that stingray down!" You were horrified when you noticed him holding the poor creature by the tail. He flinched and dropped it back into the water. "Ralph is sorry- Ralph was just curious-" He said apologetically, putting hands closer to his chest in a nervous manner. "It's- It's okay Ralph, you can try just- petting it. Like that." You reached out your hand to touch the stingray that was swimming by. Ralph looked at you and tried to do the same. "O-okay, Ralph will try." He giggled when his sensors felt the skin of the animal brush against his fingers.

You didn't know what to expect at the aquarium, whether Ralph would like it at all, but you were positively surprised when he wanted to stick around more, even after the workers told you it's gonna close soon.

Overall, he was very excited, and wouldn't mind going there again.

Please tell him more fish facts at home.

#dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #detroit: become human #headcanon #x reader #dbh ralph #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #dbh ralph x reader #connor x reader #ralph x reader #imagine #request #ask #gender neutral reader #gn reader #gn!reader

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general-cyno · 5 months

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I watched film gold the other day and it's been making me think about luffy's relationship with food wrt zoro and how it's been presented in different OP media.

Aside from the importance the riceball incident holds for the animanga and OPLA, luffy's specific reaction to zoro's injuries after the mihawk duel in the latter is so good. although the LA won't touch luffy's full backstory for a while, it's obvious he loves food in both the usual goofy manner and as something he associates with kindness or a lack thereof. it's why zoro eating the riceballs and sanji feeding gin is important in both iterations of the story. and not only that, OPLA also directly links luffy's appetite to his mood/feelings - when kid!luffy gets sad about shanks's upcoming no-return departure, makino goes out of her way to point out something's really wrong after luffy says he's not hungry. as it is, OPLA used this character trait of luffy's again to highlight how affected he is by seeing zoro (who, at that point, luffy hadn't considered could lose) truly hurt for the first time.

From I'm not really hungry right now, Nami amidst his rising panic, refusing sanji's food, admitting he'd eat his arms and legs to save zoro's life (in the context of what happened to zeff and sanji) and my gut hasn't been so great lately, the message is clear: luffy is not only worried about zoro's wellbeing, he's also very, very upset and willing to go crazy lengths if it means saving zoro. plus, if you watch the LA knowing about sabo and ace, imo it emphasizes further why seeing zoro in such a state makes luffy feel/act the way he does and how much he cares for zoro to react like that to begin with. I love it. I also love that though he rejects the food for himself, luffy admits while rambling that he wants zoro to eat and asks sanji to prepare food he believes zoro would like, even if he quickly concludes letting him rest is probably the best option instead.

That last part brings me to thriller bark, in the manga. It's not food per se and it's portrayed less seriously, but he still tries to have zoro - unconscious and wounded after You Know What - drink an entire barrel of booze because luffy knows how much he loves it (as much as luffy loves meat) and believes it will make zoro wake up/feel better. comedic as it may be intended to be, it's also kinda sweet. luffy's shown more than a few times to recuperate ridiculously fast and in an equally ridiculous manner from injuries by eating meat, so this is luffy's own way to show how much he cares and that he wants zoro to be well again imo.

This also brings me to the start of thriller bark itself! luffy's offered to share his food before (with nami, for example), yet ig what stood out to me during this part is how he just... offers to share his lunch with zoro simply because luffy wants him to come along. luffy rarely makes that sort of offer for specifically mundane reasons, so. squints.

(the fact that zoro fell right for it is so. lmao.)

And as for film gold - albeit not canon as most of the OP movies are, it's still interesting. for once, it's zoro who ends up in need of rescue. after the whole ordeal with tesoro capturing zoro and pushing the straw hats to try and buy his freedom before the public execution, luffy seeks out food.

And when usopp remarks zoro is more important than that? luffy immediately agrees, but insists that's precisely why he needs to eat.

This is a fun contrast to OPLA luffy though I'd say not necessarily a contradicting one. whereas there's little OPLA luffy can do wrt zoro's injuries, film gold luffy can't afford not to eat because here he needs to be at peak strength to rescue him. I like that the movie showed luffy's frustration too,

and how far he'd go to save him: jumping into a duct that's filled with "vicious golden bats" no one's survived from and launching himself straight against a moving, giant sea prism stone ventilation fan (all related to rescue plan) that franky has to bodily drag him away from before he gets more seriously wounded.

(Quite a reminder luffy's pretty crazy about zoro too!)

All in all, food is a very important aspect of luffy's character whether it's for a comedic or serious effect. though it's made more relevant in the WCI arc, I still love how it's something you can see portrayed in his relationship with zoro throughout OP too, be it in the animanga, the LA or in movies as well.

#zolu #tp #long post #ish #sjdjd the way I was out of brain juice bc of work and the fact that I've been sick for over a week now #but the zolu brainworms once again prevailed #(it's 3am save me)#anyway daily I love zolu so much #forgot to say but the gif is mine btw #jay reads op

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thelovelylolly · 2 months

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Moments On Pabu

Summary: You watch the sunset with Tech Warnings: reader is described as short and smaller than Tech Word Count: 780 Notes: season 3 has broken me and we're only 3 episodes in IM SCARED i have theories and im convincing myself tech is alive (because he is wdym hes dead?) i have so many thoughts its insane (also this may become a lil series idk)

Sunset was the best time on Pabu. Ever since you befriended Phee and she showed you Pabu, you made sure to watch the sunset every night. You made routines and plans around it. With the galaxy at war with itself almost constantly and your life being turbulent before coming to Pabu, the sunset gave you peace and a sense of stability. Things may change around you, but you will always have the sunset.

Phee introduced you to the Bad Batch when they first arrived on the island, and you instantly clicked with Tech. It was a silent connection, but when he smiled back at you, you knew you were going to like him.

He was more reserved compared to his brothers and sister, but he quickly opened up as time went on. You loved listening to him ramble about anything that piqued his interest. You two tended to gravitate to each other, naturally sitting next to each other at gatherings or finding each other around the island and walking together.

That led to you asking Tech if he'd like to join you to watch the sunset.

"Where would we watch it?" He asked in reply to your question. "The beaches and docks tend to be a bit crowded during that time, and I don't particularly enjoy those kinds of situations."

"Don't worry about it, I know a spot where it'll be just us," you quickly replied. "I don't mind if you don't want to go, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

He thought for a moment, then gave you a small smile. "I suggest we leave now so we don't miss it."

You smiled and took his hand in yours, leading him down the winding paths of the island. You had found the alcove one day when wondering the island, and no one else knew of it. Or at least, they didn't go there.

Tech's eyes widened a bit when you two arrived at the empty beach. The blue waves gently lapped at the shore, filling the alcove with the soft sound of waves crashing. The setting sun made the horizon a beautiful, bright orange while the rest of the sky was still a light blue. You led him closer to the water, showing the setting sun to your left.

"This is a beautiful beach," Tech commented before looking at you, "no one else has found it yet?"

You shook your head with a smile. "Not yet. I usually come here by myself when things get too much or to just watch the sunset. I don't bring anyone here. Well, except for you now."

You noticed how his cheeks turned pink before he looked away.

"I feel honored that I am the first person you brought down here," eh said softly.

Now you felt your cheeks heat up, a contrast to the cool sea breeze. You ignored it, instead taking your shoes off and placing them in the sand. You walked closer to the water, stopping when it just covered your feet. You turned and looked back at Tech, who was watching you.

"C'mon, it's just a little bit cold," you called with a smile.

He returned it and quickly followed your lead. He took his shoes off and joined you in the shallow water. The sun dipped lower and lower as the minutes ticked past. You two watched it from your spots in the water, letting the waves splash against your feet and onto your lower legs.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. The peace of sunset by the ocean always made you happy, and Tech made it so much better.

When you opened your eyes and looked back down, you caught Tech looking at you. You smiled, squinting a bit when the sun got in your eye.

"What is it?" You asked.

"I-it's nothing," he answered, "you just look very...peaceful. And happy."

"I am, but I think I'm really happy because you're here with me," you replied. You reached for his hand and gently took it in yours. "You wanna take a walk down the shore?"

He smiled, ignoring the way his cheeks continued to heat up. He intertwined his fingers with yours. "I would like that very much."

You led him down the shoreline, keeping your feet in the water. You two walked hand-in-hand as the sun continued to set. You glanced over at him and saw him bathed in the golden light from the setting sun. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you looked away, continuing down the shore.

You liked the quiet moments on Pabu, but you liked them more with Tech by your side.

#im very normal about season 3 wdym #tech x reader #tech the bad batch #tech x you #the bad batch tech #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #tbb tech #tech tbb #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

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thisismeracing · 7 months

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HI! 🤍

Mick + (loving) Fan + fluff

I know you said just one Word but i was thinking about how would be if Mick Falls in love with a Fan 🥺

Fan | MS47

⸺ the one where it's her birthday and besides the paddock passes, she got a date. ✓ mentions of throwing up and anxiety, but nothing graphic or major.

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night��(closed) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

When Yn's best friend told her their friends came together to get her a birthday gift she had been waiting for her whole life, she did NOT expect it to be paddock passes. Vip and all.

It took her the whole trip to Austin; she was still in awe even then. Still trying to gather how loved she was, even though a little nagging voice would try to tell her otherwise. Her friends knew she loved Formula 1, knew she wanted to go to a race for a long time, and knew how this would be the best birthday she ever had.

That's how Yn found herself wrapped in her favorite coat, wearing her favorite pair of jeans and beat-up Converse, trying to keep her body from jumping excitedly like a little kid who's about to meet their famous Disney character.

In reality, she was just a young adult about to meet her favorite driver if the circumstances helped her.

"Tell everyone how you're feeling, Yn!" her friend, Debra, who volunteered to come to Texas with her, was recording everything to their friend group chat.

"I'm actually feeling sick, I- what if I throw up on Lewis' shoes??? Omg- and what if-" Her mind started to go places and Debra chuckled with the camera in her hands, holding Yn's shoulders with her free one.

"Yn, calm down! It's gonna be alright, you'll see," Debra reassured.

And off they went. They were able to meet Russell and Carmen who was a sweetheart with the pair of friends, they thought it was cute how nervous Yn was, so nervous she called George by Carmen and started rambling about how much she loved Mundt's Instagram account. Then it came Charles Leclerc and even Debra was a bit thrown off by how handsome and friendly he was. They met a bunch of other drivers and members of their crews, everyone but Yn's favorite duo: Lewis and Mick.

Luckily for her, Debra was on a mission, and she practically dragged Yn to the Mercedes garage before it was impossible to get a glimpse of anything. And as it happens, it only took twenty minutes after Lewis was spotted for the small garage to start gathering some people in its front. He was extremely attentive, wished Yn happy birthday, and went as far as to tell her he would try and get her a birthday podium to which she almost burst into happiness.

"Are you ok?" Debra asked right after the exchange with the eight-time world champion.

Yn nodded, but her friend saw the way her chest puffed in a deep breath, "I'm just- a bit anxious... too many people around now," Yn explained, pointing behind her back, "I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick, wait for me in here. I'll be back in a sec."

Off she went, but instead of running to the restrooms, Yn made a beeline in the direction of the motorhome. Behind it to be more precise. Where no one was around, and all the noise seemed to lessen a bit.

She sat on the ground, back propped against the wall of the motorhome. The hum helped to calm her nerves. Yn took off her shoes, feeling the cold ground under her feet, and taking small breaths.

"This is real. It's really real, and I deserve this nice reality," she whispered to herself, thinking back about how lucky she was in that sea of fans.

"Huh- hi?"

"Ok, now that's not real, total creation of your anxious mind," she mumbled to herself, staring up and down the blond guy in front of her.

Mick snickered.

"What's with the shoes?" he asked, and Yn moved her hands to the ground now.

"I'm just trying to ground myself, to make my body believe what's happening is real. My fingers are pretty cold now, but for some reason, I still can't wrap my head around this minute right here.' She ranted nervously, and Mick removed his signature black Puma shoes, sitting right beside her.

He carefully bumped their shoulders, "It does feel nice, I have to give you that."

Yn nods, bracing her knees in front of her body and staring ahead.

"Were you anxious?"

"A bit. I don't know why, I'm usually good with too many people." She explains.

"I get exactly what you're saying."

"Is this really happening or am I hallucinating? Can you pinch me?"

Mick chuckled and pinched Yn's arm.

"Do things like this usually happen with VIP people?" Yn asks after a beat. She wanted to question Mick about a bunch of things outside racing, she wanted to know his favorite color for real, his favorite food, and something he liked to cook, and if he collected something from his travels, she wanted to hear something random about him that people probably did not bother to ask or didn't care enough to pay attention to, yet that was all she could manage: is it common? those interactions?

And his answer surprised her. Not only his spoken words but his roaming curious eyes, "nah, the passes usually just grant you a picture and a quick 'how are you' if you're lucky."

"What am I then? Since we're exchanging more than the small talk.."

Mick's pink lips curled in a smile, "I can think of a few things I wanted you to be." He glances down at her, eyes scanning her face, before adding, "My date to watch today's race, for example."

There was silence for a beat and then Yn's booming laughter embraced them, "Ain't no way Mick Schumacher is flirting with me. I really must be hallucinating. Oh- what if I threw up on Lewis shoes and passed out and now I'm dreaming to make myself feel better while Debra tries to wake me up?"

It was Schumacher's turn to laugh.

"You have a beautiful laugh," she pointed.

"You too," the blonde shot back.

This time when their eyes met neither of them tried to shy away, instead their lips curled in a smile. Something passed between that stare, and Mick and Yn knew with certainty that was the start of something new and beautiful.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: HI, I AM BACK, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT <3 Make sure to reblog and leave me a comment, love y'all *mwah*

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msschemmenti · 7 months

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hinge - a potential series

eventual melissa schemmenti x reader

synopsis: melissa joins hinge. who will she match with?

a/n: hello yes i know i’ve been gone for over a month after saying i was going to finish some things. my job got SUPER busy! but i’m trying to get back into writing and with that in mind i wanted to do a little writing exercise that i thought could be fun. so basically this will be a one shot series where melissa matches with different readers each installment. i was thinking if you all were interested i could open my requests for descriptions of readers you’d like to see melissa chat with and date! this is just an introductory piece to the vision, but let me know if you all would be interested in submitting readers for this. if not that’s cool as well ahaha! but either way, i hope you enjoy this chaotic prologue.

“You know, you should really get back out there Melissa.” Jacob’s voice floated over Melissa's shoulder. The older woman felt the tension between her eyebrows tighten as she slowly turned to address the young teacher. Not only had he been listening in on her conversation with Barb, but now he was giving advice. She knew they shouldn’t have let him stay for the Christmas dinner, now he thinks he’s a part of their circle.

"What are ya talking about?" Melissa glared. Jacob had the sense to look a bit squeamish under her gaze but still cleared his throat as if to speak.

"I just mean, it's been months since Gary stopped stocking the vending machine. And kind of disappeared off the face of the Earth. And you're a beautiful woman, who deserves to be treated well. I'm sure there's a sea of men just waiting to make you their wife." Jacob rambled as his face grew red.

"First of all kid, I had nothing to do with Gary's career change and if you tell anyone different we'll have a problem. Second of all, I know I'm hot. I'm a Philly 11. I don't need no man making me his wife. I'm perfectly fine with the way my life is right now. Not that it's any of your business." Melissa scoffed with an eyeroll.

"Well that doesn't mean you can't see what's out there." Janine piped up from her seat next to Jacob.

"Oh you're one to talk, what does that even mean?" Melissa asked.

"Well, I'm not looking for a relationship right now because I'm working on myself. But that doesn't mean I don't want to see who's out there. Or even get a little validation from knowing someone wants me."

Melissa listened curiously, "and how exactly do you do that? Are you going to bars and turning down drinks or something?"

"No! Dating apps. People see my profile and like me but I don't have to say anything back." Janine explained.

"Oh yes! Before I met Zack I had a profile on all of the apps, just to make sure I wasn't missing any of the validation." Jacob added in causing Janine to nod.

"I think that could be good for you." Barb hummed before taking another bite of her salad.

"Not you too!" Melissa groaned before Ava walked through the door swiping on her phone.

"What we talking about?" Ava grinned looking around the tables.

"We're trying to convince Melissa to get back out there. On a dating app."

"Oh you should definitely do that. There's a market of men you're missing out on. Get you a young thing to get all up in that Italian Dressing." Ava said wiggling her eyebrows before reaching to make her coffee.

"Okay. None of that." Melissa groaned as she and Barb shook their heads in disappointment.

"No, you don't have to start out doing that. You can just start out seeing who's out there. Getting some likes, giving some likes, and then if you want to you can move it to chatting. It's all at your own speed." Janine tried to explain.

Before Melissa could even try to continue disagreeing, Ava had finished dumping sugar in her mug and had snatched Melissa's phone from the table. "The question is, what app do we get her on. I think Tinder is out if she's not gonna let any all up in her business. Bumble is dead and boring. What else is there?"

"How about none?"

"Oh Hinge! That ones really good." Jacob volunteered and Ava nodded moving to download the app on the older woman's phone.

"You are insane! Give me back my phone." Melissa tried to lunge at the taller woman.

"Stop fighting girlfriend. Just let it happen." Barbara appeased placing her hand on Melissa's shoulder in an attempt to calm her.

"Oh not you too!" Melissa sighed.

"Give in Schemmenti. I'm already creating your account." Ava grinned flashing the phone toward the older woman.

Seeing the phone, Melissa just shook her head. "I hate all of yous."

Ava took a seat in the middle of the table and smirked over her shoulder at Melissa. "Alright so let's get these questions and pictures together. Gotta show every how hot you are!"

Melissa scoffed but only rolled her eyes in response.

"So I got all the basics, now who are you looking for? Just men? Or are you down for a lil lady action? You seem like you'd know your way around the lady parts." Ava asked.

"Oh my god. You are the WORST!"

"That's not answering my question. You know what, I'll just put it as bisexual for now. Keep your options open. Let's find pictures for the prompts. You have any nudes in here I should be worried about seeing?" Ava asked shielding her eyes playfully.

"No? What kind of lady do you think I am?"

"I don't know. I'm just saying. Okay I already did the first one now the next one is 'As seen on my Mom's fridge', how about this cute picture of you and your blonde sister?"

"Yes that would be cute!" Janine smiled.

"Oh put this picture I secretly took of her crocheting on there. People love crafts!" Jacob said air dropping the photo to Melissa's phone.

"Why are you secretly taking pictures of me?" Melissa glared.

"Oh hush, it's helpful now. Oh a writing prompt, what are your simple pleasures?"

"Food, wine, and the Eagles." Melissa answered quickly.

"Let's say Cooking, wine, and the Eagles. People like cooking." Janine amended.

"Another picture, let's do this cute one with me in the back. That'll really get you some likes. I'm pretty well known around this app."

"Last prompt, the key to your heart?" Janine asked.

"A clean kitchen and an empty stomach." Melissa spoke with a shrug.

"Oh cause you like to cook for people. You're so good at this. Yes." Janine swooned.

"And with that, you're live. Now you just wait for the local baddies to match with you."

As Ava handed the phone, Melissa had no choice but to scroll. Well I guess this is what we're doing now.

"If this ends poorly, all of yous better watch your back."

#melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary x reader #msschemmenti #hinge series

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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year

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Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Most recent part

Warnings: Profanity!! Swearing!! Kinda sad!!

Word Count: 7.4k (fun fact! if you've read the whole story, that's 27 pages of reading!)

A/N: The highly anticipated continuation to my ramblings. Please let me know if you want to be on the tag list for this series (because apparently that's a thing people do?) Also, can you tell I'm a huge Bad Omens fan?

"Wait, you're from San Sebastián? Like the cake?"

"If I had known you were this funny I wouldn't have ordered a soda. It keeps coming out of my nose."

You smiled widely at Martin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You sat across from him in a restaurant by the beach, the dim yellow light complimenting the fading sun that cascaded through the windows. Salt hung in the air, filling your lungs with a feeling of relaxation. You rarely ever let first dates pick you up, let alone drive you an hour outside of Barcelona. But Martin had made you feel safe.

He had pulled up outside of your building, top down on the blue Mercedes he drove. His sunglasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, allowing him to drink in your sight and let out a low whistle as you approached the car. Your beach dress swayed around you, hugging different parts of your body as you moved. Your hair was pulled away from your face, with the wind shifting a few strands. Martin jumped out of the vehicle at the sight of you, opening the door for you and helping with your bag. The car ride there had been a tad awkward, with both of you nervous to come across too strong or two excited. So he handed you AUX and got a feel for you through your taste in music (which was erratic and all over the place). He let you play whatever you want. Well, almost: when 'Like a Villain' by Bad Omens came on, he changed the song himself, stating that he "could not stand scream music".

You had both loosened up by the time you got to the beach. You set up on the sand and Martin unbuttoned his shirt, glancing up to make sure you were watching him expose his chest inch by inch. You decided to be just as bold, lifting your dress over your head without turning around. Upon rummaging through your belongings, you decided none of your swimsuits gave off the desired impression, which was "I was meant to be a rich football WAG please wife me now". The natural next step was to ask Angelika for one, and she did not disappoint. It was a light pink medium-slutty bikini, sitting ever so prettily on your chest and on the curve of your hips. You laid across the towel on your side, finally able to engross yourself in the conversation with Martin. Once you two started, it was almost impossible for you to stop talking. You were so enamored by this man, who was interesting and funny and good looking and successful and interested in you.

You had spent hours at the beach, walking along the water, swimming in the shallows, and just laying in the warm sand, all while maintaining a great conversation. He was genuine in all his questions about your interests and your life. As you put your dress back on, Martin stared at you. He licked his lips as you let your hair down, shaking it to get any excess sand out. He asked if you didn't mind keeping the night going by having dinner with him, which is how you ended up at a pretty tiny seafood place by the sea. The other three occupied tables in the restaurant also hosted couples, so you felt at ease sitting across from Martin and asking about his home town.

"Okay but I love San Sebastián cake! It's like cheesecake but better and doesn't make me feel like I have butter lining my veins."

Martin laughed shyly and rolled his eyes. He looked at you softly, in a way that few men had. Most guys looked at you with a hardness in their eyes: you were a challenge to defeat, a mountain to climb, a conquest to complete. You were the impossible woman and you were to be treated as such. But Martin? He looked at you with a delicate that made you feel like you were made of glass. He looked at you the way Disney characters looked at the princesses: like something special that needed to be cherished. You rested your hand on the table, and he brought his hand to drape over yours, making you feel like a high schooler with their first crush. It was sweet and delicate and everything a girl wanted in a romance. You looked up at Martin and saw what you had been searching for all this time: potential.

You woke up Monday morning feeling the best you had in weeks. The previous day, you received an email saying you passed your field medicine exam with a 93%, shortly followed by a few texts from Martin saying how much he enjoyed the date and how he couldn't wait to see you again. It felt like everything in your life was falling into place: you were on your way to becoming a successful sports physiotherapist, and you had a hot football player who was sending you "good morning" texts before his 8am training.

You practically skipped into work, coffee in one hand, handbag swinging in the other. You stood in the hall outside your office and stared at your phone, smiling like an idiot at the messages from Martin. A hand came down and grasped your shoulder, scaring you out of your trance.

"Good morning doctora. You didn't answer my texts."

And just like that, your mood was ruined by Pablo, Barca's little storm could of misery. He had sent you several messages over your time off, all of which you had decided not to open:

[Gavi]: Good luck on your exam Doctora.

[Gavi]: Frenkie ripped his knee open today during training. It was nasty as fuck. You would have thought it was cool.

[Gavi]: Sevilla is so fucking cold I can't stand it.

[Gavi]: Did you see the injuries during today's match? You're going to be busy on Monday.

[Gavi]: Say hi to Martin for me and the boys

[Gavi]: Tomorrow morning I need you to remove my back and give me a new one

"Yes Gavi, because I was busy," you breathed out as you opened your office door. Gavi walked in behind you, taking your coffee and bag from your hands to place them in their usual spots. "I gave you my personal number for emergencies. If you keep texting me status updates about your life, I will demote you back to email only. Why is your shirt off?"

"Because you're gonna work on my back, which you would know if you read my messages. Besides, don't lie, you love my little updates."

You pulled your hair up, grabbing clean gloves and some muscle warming lotion as you approached a shirtless Gavi, who had laid himself across your table. Despite not opening them, you had to admit that the messages made a feeling of warmth spread through your chest. Someone on the team was thinking about you, and he had remembered the things you were interested in. You could just barely admit this to yourself, but you would never say it out loud to Gavi. God forbid he ever found out that you enjoyed his presence.

"No one likes them, given that you send them to me rather than your friends."

From his position on his stomach, he looked over his shoulder at you.

"Are we not friends, y/n?"

"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."

"I don't hate you. I think."

The statement made your cheeks heat up slightly for reasons unknown to you. Instead of focusing on this, you squeezed some of the gel onto Gavi's lower back, an area that consistently gave him trouble. It was odd to hear that Gavi considered the two of you friends. Hell, it was weird to hear that he didn't hate you. Despite him treating you more politely, he never gave you the impression that he enjoyed your presence outside of the fact that you repaired his aching body. Well, that, and the fact that he was sending you daily updates about the team, most of which were not related to work at all. You spread the gel around the area, giving it a moment to heat up before you started working the muscle.

"So how did your exam go?" Gavi asked, laying on his folded hands. It was 7:40am, and he was susceptible to falling asleep unless he maintained a conversation. He also needed something to focus on besides the feeling of your hands on him. There was that damn feeling again: the ache in his chest, the goosebumps on his arms, the feeling like he wanted to run out the room and off the roof. He had no clue what is was about you that made him feel like he was on the verge of exploding. He would deny it if anyone asked, but he felt himself start to get hard every time you put your hands on him. Maybe Pedri was right and he was severely touch starved.

"It went amazing. I was a little scared about the technical test, because I can't really lift more than 60 kilos, so if we had to use the spine board it might have been a problem. But it was a stomach injury, so it was pretty easy. Passed with a 93%."

Your hands moved around Gavi's lower back, and he was letting out sharp breaths of pain.

"Muscle tension?"

"No actually. Your gloves... you know what it's fine I'll live keep going."

"No no. Gavi I don't want to hurt you. Tell me what's the issue."

"Well.. Your gloves are getting caught on the hair of my lower back, and you're pulling on it. I don't really know what you can do about that but that's what hurts."

You looked down at your gloved, realizing the mix of latex and gel had ripped a couple hairs out of Gavi.

"I can go wash my hands and do this without gloves. I'll be right back."

Before Gavi could protest to your bare hands massaging him, you had thrown your gloves away and let the room, washing your hands across the hall and returning. You repositioned yourself to lean over Gavi and began working the muscles in his lower back, your hands digging into his skin. Gavi was now, for the second time in two weeks, seething with anger in your office, because he was about to get hard in front of you from the most platonic touches. He didn't want you to think he was a teenage slave to his hormones. He wanted to show that he was cool and in control (even if in reality he was falling apart under your fingers).

"So how was the beach?" He asked. He knew he shouldn't. He knew you two weren't close enough for him to be asking. Gavi didn't even want to hear the answer - you looked like you were so happy, and the thought of you being happy with another man made him sick. He told himself it was because a boyfriend would make you less available for the team, but the reasoning was weak at best. But he knew the disappointment of hearing about your date would make him flaccid and riled up for training, so he let his lips utter the question that had bothered him for days.

"The beach? Or my date?" You asked, pressing harder into his lower back. The thought of Martin brought you warm sunshine feelings normally, but when Gavi asked, it made you feel nervous - embarrassed. Like you had done something wrong or shameful.

"Either. Both. Did you have a good time?"

You took a deep breath, allowing the memories of Saturday to fill your lungs.

"Honestly, it was great, Gavi, the best date I've been on in so long. The beach was gorgeous, and he seemed to really like me, which is more than I can say about the other guys I've been out with."

He clutched the plush bed tighter, arm veins becoming more pronounced.

"Have you been on dates with a lot of guys here?"

You paused your motions. Usually, you would respond with a sarcastic remark, asserting your dominance and your ability to date whoever you wanted. But Gavi's eyes showed that he wasn't being judgmental like the previous week - he was genuinely curious.

"Yeah like a dozen since I moved back. They've all sucked. Like majorly - they think I'm dumb and looking for a sugar daddy, or they just want to have sex. Or both actually. But Martin was so sweet to me. Every other date I've been on, the guy tried to kiss me or squeeze my thighs. The most physical thing Martin did was hold my hand."

In your dreamy recount of your date, you had lost track of what you were doing with your hands. The medical muscle treatment had shifted towards a much more intimate massage, with your hands lingering slightly too long on sections of Gavi's lower back. This was not helping his tenting issue, and neither was the mental image you were painting. He squeezed his eyes shut, focused on stopping the blood flow to his dick, but instead he pictured you in a swimsuit holding someone's hand. Holding his hand. His eyes shot open and he pushed him up, startling you in the process.

"Sorry, I don't know why I did that." He said, leaning back down and letting you keep working.

"I know I probably shouldn't be giving you this much information about my personal life, but you're not gonna tell on me, are you Gavi?" You asked, winking at him. Why would you do that? Did you hate him? Were you purposely trying to get him hard?

"Of course not, doctora. It's nice to hear you talk about something else besides how shit my muscles are." You continued rambling about your date and about Martin while Gavi listened intently, erection now fully gone, much to his satisfaction. You listed off all the good things you experienced that day, from the feel of the sand to the taste of your drink. As you finished up, Gavi had his eyebrows scrunched together (more than usual).

"You look like you want to say something, so just say it."

"Do you like him?"

The question caught you off guard (much like everything else Gavi had done that day) as you moved to get some paper towels to wipe the gel off Gavi's back.

"He's a great guy and he likes me a lot, so I think I would like to see where things go."

Gavi held out his hand, preferring to wipe himself down. He had just recovered from your touch, and was not eager to have another exchange like that again. He looked at you critically with one eyebrow lifted.

"Tch, you're not listening to the question. I'm sure he's very nice. But I'm asking about you, y/n. Do you like him?"

Looking down, you wiped your hands and pressed your lips together. This conversation had gotten a lot deeper than the ones you and Gavi normally got into. But there was something about the boy in front of you that made your heart soften, urging you to open up to him. Maybe it was the memory of his drunken state and how burdened he seemed. Maybe it was the boyish innocence that he carried, still resilient despite the sin that accompanied being rich and famous so young. There was just something about Gavi that, despite him being immature and infuriating, made you feel safe.

"I don't know. I don't think I can let myself like him before I'm sure that he wants to be with me for the right reasons."

Gavi had never seen you like this. You were one of the most confident people he knew, always walking with your head up and shoulders back. Now, your head hung forward, and despite you standing, it looked like you wanted to curl yourself into a ball. Your eyes were unfocused, as if you were remembering something you would rather forget.

"I understand that."

If Gavi kept surprising you like this, you were going to need your own physio.

"Understand what?"

"Wanting people to like you for the right reasons. Not wanting someone to be interested in you because of your body or your money or your name, but for who you are as a human being."

Your eyes met his hazel ones, holding his gaze. There was something that neither of you were saying, but you both felt. It was a pain that you couldn't explain with words - you either knew what it was like to be an object or you didn't. Feeling the mood weigh heavier on the both of you, you decided it was time to lighten things back up.

"That was really deep Gavi. I didn't know middle schoolers could be so philosophical."

Gavi groaned, cracking a smile in the process. He had gotten up, slipping his shirt over his head, working on getting his shoes back on as well.

"You know good and well that I'm 18, not a middle schoolers. If you want more proof, go ask your mom."

"My mom is an elementary school teacher."

This caused both of you to lose it, gripping your sides in laughter. You looked over at Gavi, watching the way his eyes crinkled and body shook with each laugh. You liked seeing him smile (it finally gave those eyebrows a break).

You and Gavi exited your office, walking to the field together. You would be observing their training to get used to assessing on field injuries with Antonio, another physio assistant. He had graduated from the same program as you, and had been assisting Dr. G for the least 3 years. He had been recruited by Manchester City, and would be moving to England at the end of the season, creating a need to impart all his wisdom on you.

Gavi ran onto the field giddy with excitement. He loved his teammates and all the friends he made at La Masia, but he had a hard time making other friends the more famous he got. Every time he liked a photo or followed someone on Instagram, there would be news articles and headlines reading that he had a wife. He felt comfortable around you, and despite meeting you through his work, you didn't have an obligation to like him in order to win trophies. It started that warm and fuzzy feeling again.

"Gavi, nice of you to join us. You'll be with Ferran and Christensen. Pedri, Lewandowsky, and Kounde, you'll be the other team. It will be precision training."

Ferran sauntered up to Gavi, phone and bottle in hand. As they waited for Christensen to join them, Ferran unlocked his phone and held it up to Gavi. It was a picture of you (seemingly from your private Instagram) this weekend at the beach, sitting on the sand and looking behind you. Your glasses sat at the top of your head as you glanced over your shoulder at the camera.

"In those scrubs, could you ever tell that our little nurse has such a heavenly ass?"

Gavi wished he couldn't hear. Or that Ferran didn't have a mouth to speak. He glared at him and brought his phone up, pressing the side button and making the screen go dark.

"She let you follow her on Instagram and this is what you do? Show her private pictures to the whole team?"

Gavi tried his best to hide the hurt in his voice at the fact that you had yet to follow him, hating that Ferran, nasty as he was to you, got special treatment.

"Oh no, Martin sent this screenshot to me. She hasn't accepted me as a follower yet. And not everyone gets to see - just you, because I know you've been waiting for her to let you hit. Oh and maybe Pedri if you let him."

Gavi wanted to step on Ferran's smug face with his cleats. But what really angered him was Martin. Why was he sharing private photos of you with anyone who asked? Needless to say, Gavi was on fire for the rest of practice, being extra physical with all the boys. He was throwing himself at the ball, scrapping the exposed skin on his arms on almost every play. After five rounds, Gavi's arm had gotten past scrapes and began to bleed, leading to Xavi stopping the drill and calling you over to bandage up the ragefully aggressive boy.

"Hey nurse y/n." Ferran called out, leaning against one of the goal posts.

"Stop calling me a nurse Ferran before I hurt you so bad you're eating through a tube." You were tired of Ferran's remarks from the day you started. The longer you worked with the team, the less they bothered you.

"There's that fire that I love. How was the beach? Do anything...hot?"

Gavi tried to turn around and glare at Ferran, but you gripped his arm tightly, instructing him not to move while you bandaged it.

"Yeah I did actually. I called your dad and almost gave him a son he actually loves, but I decided not to hurt your mom like that." The boys all snickered at your comment. Ferran leaned into Pedri, showing him the picture as well, much to Gavi's displeasure.

"I bet it's bubblegum pink - and I'm not talking about the swimsuit."

You didn't hear what Ferran had said, only Pedri's response of "you're sick dude". The bleeding boy in front of you had. This time you couldn't hold Gavi back, and he turned around fully to smack the phone out of Ferran's hand.

"What's your problem Hermano?" Ferran said, hostility apparent in his voice.

"You're giving me a headache."

"Sounds like a personal issue. y/n, on Thursday after Pedrito tucks Gavi into bed, all the adults are going to the club to celebrate the hopeful win against Espanol. Care to join?"

You pinched Gavi on the arm to keep him from turning around to respond to Ferran's comments about his age. You knew age was a sore spot, but you really needed to make sure his elbow was bandaged properly, and him constantly rotating wasn't helping.

"I'm not sure it's appropriate for me, as a member of staff, to be going out with a group of players. I'm not trying to get in trouble."

Pedri had approached you at this point, draping an arm around Gavi and leaning against him.

"Martin will be there, so you won't be out with the players. You'll be out with the guy you're seeing, and the players will just happen to be there. You should come - you'll get bottle service for free."

Gavi prayed you would say no. He prayed you would be responsible and say that you needed to go home and rest, as you clocked into work at 7:30am. Despite Ferran's taunting, Gavi would also be at the club, and the idea of you seeing him while he was drunk made him queasy. He was already off-putting to some people while sober, so he didn't want to undo the closeness he had achieved with you today with a shot of tequila.

"If Martin's going to be there, I don't see why not. I would love to see what Pedri looks like when confronted by a bottle service girl."

You finished bandaging Gavi's arm, and heard Xavi yelling that this was practice, not school lunch, and everyone got back to their places on and off the field.

The rest of the week passed by rather uncharacteristically. No intense injuries. No texts from Gavi to meet him for an early morning session. It really was just a normal 9-5 job. On Thursday, Barca played at home against Espanol, winning 2-0, with goals from Dembele and Gavi in the second half. Only one head collision between Araujo and another player, so you go to stay on the sides and enjoy the game. At the end, the players came to the sidelines to thank the fans for their support. You watched as Gavi removed his shirt, tossing it to a little girl at the front of the audience, her dad protecting her immediately from the rabid fans around her. You were brought out of your trance by two arms around your waist, lifting you up, causing you to let out a small scream.

"Ready to party bonita?" Ferran's voice asked uncomfortably close to your ear. Upon being put down, you grabbed your medical bag and rushed off the field, eager to get away from the player that felt too comfortable touching you whenever he pleased. Pedri watched you run off from the corner of his eye and turned to Ferran, giving him a side eye for the actions.

You drove home with music blasting over the speakers. It was a great stress relief (even if it encouraged you to speed). You showered and got dressed, excited to get to see some of the boys out in the wild, not only in the secluded space that was Camp Nou. You slipped into a black dress, hair half pulled up, and your makeup done dark and smoky - typical for a night out. A knock at your door made you finally stop admiring your own reflection, and you found Martin in front of you, a black t-shirt hugging his torso, coupled with those dreadful skinny cargo pants in army green (you know the ones that Spanish men love).

"Good evening beautiful. Let me take a look at you." He grabbed your hand spinning you slowly, and taking in every curve the dress hugged.

"Ready to go?" You asked, trying to step into the hallway and close the door to your apartment. He placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"Not quite. You look absolutely stunning, don't get me wrong, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out dressed like that. It's a little too revealing, and if anyone were to take pictures of us together, I would want them to think you're my girl, not just someone dancing half naked in the club trying to get a footballer."

You felt a pit develop in your stomach. You had never been told by a man to go change for a night out. This is how you had always dressed, feeling confident in yourself and your ability to look put together without looking cheap. You were ready to tell Martin to fuck off, but you thought back to university. You had dressed this way back then too, and all anyone ever wanted was to sleep with you. Maybe he was right - your clothes were giving off the wrong impression. You stepped inside to change, substituting your dress for a pair of high waisted jeans and a corset top with long sleeves.

"Even better." He said, kissing you on the cheek and leading you out of the building.

'Maybe this is what men want,' you thought to yourself as you strapped into Martin's car and plugged in your phone, queuing several songs that you knew would be Martin-approved.

The line at the club was ridiculously long given that people had to go to work the following morning, but Martin explained that word had gotten out about the footballers frequenting this establishment, and so every girl and all her wannabe WAG friends would flock here after a home game to try and get a glimpse of the million euro boys. Martin shook hands with one of the bouncers, who gave you a once over before leading you both to the VIP section. The Barca boys were already there, not running late because of last minute outfit changes.

The older players had their own section where they sat with their partners, speaking with each other as much as they could over the thump of the speakers. The younger players had the more obvious section that overlooked the rest of the club. Pedri noticed you first, looking away from the bottle service girl he was talking to and waving you over. The closer you got, the more you could see the waitress fidgeting and blushing, overwhelmed by the fact that Pedri was whispering their order into her ear (because the music was loud. no other reason). Gavi sat on the seat next to him, legs spread and arms crossed, looking utterly uninterested until his eyes landed on you. He sat up straighter, wondering if it was ok to come up to you and greet you given that you were with another man. As he thought, someone else beat him to it.

"Martin! Good to see you Hermano. Always great when you join us, especially with something pretty on your arm."

You stopped yourself from responding to Ferran, looking at Martin instead. You didn't know much about men, but there was an assumption that most of them didn't like it when other guys made suggestive remarks at the girls they were with. But the anger never came - only a laugh from Martin before joining hands with Ferran to great him. You look a seat beside Gavi, with Martin on your right. He waved the bottle service girl over, still red as a tomato from taking Pedri's order, and started requesting bottles while placing a hand on your lower thigh, rubbing gentle circles into the skin there.

Gavi followed Martin's fingers with his eyes, tracing the same circles with his vision and damn near going cross-eyed. His body filled with heat despite the fact that he had not yet consumed a drop of liquor. There was something about the possessive grip Martin had, coupled with the nervous way you sat with your hands folded, that upset Gavi. Soon enough there were bottles on tables, and shots were being poured.

"What'll you have baby? Don Julio or Azul?"

"I'm actually not drinking. I have to be at work in the morning" You replied, and Gavi went to remove the shot glass from in in front of you, but Martin stopped him.

"What do you mean you're not drinking? Come on you're out and we got bottles, you have to drink. I'm pouring you a shot of Don Julio. Better take it or I'm leaving you here." Martin said with a slight laugh in his voice. You picked up the shot glass reluctantly. You didn't drink on weeknights, but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Gavi leaned into you ear.

"You don't have to take it if you don't want to. He's not in charge of you or what you drink."

You looked over at Gavi, silently thanking him for the encouragement, but felt the cool of the glass against your lips. You looked over at Martin, who licked his lips and gazed at you with hooded eyes. Maybe this is what you needed to be doing - loosening up with the guys you went out with. Maybe it was your uptight nature that made people want to fuck you until you went soft, never sticking around to put the pile of mush back together. You knocked back the shot, reeling from the burn.

"There you go. Good job." You giggled slightly at the praise, leaning into Martin's side. Gavi was not happy. He hadn't known you your whole life, but the three months you had been at Barca showed him fundamentals about your personality. One of them was that you did what you wanted, and didn't let anyone sway you when you were set. Allowing Martin to persuade you into doing things you didn't want to made Gavi uneasy, but he said nothing, knocking back his own shot and leaning back onto the couch. He knew the alcohol would start to damped all his emotions, making the anger and other unnamed feelings more bearable.

Martin had one hand around you, whispering into your ear about nothing in particular, just pleasantries: how good you looked in your jeans, how you pretty you were under the club lights, how nice it was to see you again. The sweet words and the alcohol in your bloodstream made everything slightly hazy and rose tinted. But you weren't relaxed. On the contrary, the panic started to set in at the fact that you were not completely with it in a place full of strangers. This was only made worse by the fact that Martin had poured you another shot, holding it up once again. This time he wasn't even asking, just pushing the glass to your lips waiting for you to oblige.

"Hermano, stop pushing drinks on her." You heard from your other side. Gavi had now pushed himself up from the couch, standing above you almost threateningly. Martin looked up at him and scoffed.

"Listen poquito Pablo. When the adults are speaking, learn to shut up." He looked back down at you, shot glass still raised for you to drink from. His eyes were now angrier and more expectant - like the only way to prove to Pablo that the two of you were happy together was to take the shot. You tried to grab the glass from his hand, but he tutted and moved his hand away: he wanted to feed it to you.

"I might go get something else. I'm not a huge fan of tequila."

"No one is a fan of tequila, bonita. We're just trying to have a good time."

Gavi closed the gap between him and Martin at this point, causing everyone in the group to stand. Pedri disconnected his eyes from the bottle service girl and grabbed Gavi's shoulder, hoping to hold back his outburst. Martin stood, lifting you off the couch with him. He put one arm around your waist, pulling you in close. He then looked Pablo dead in the eyes and took the shot himself.

"Watch the way you speak to your superiors, Cabron. Come on bonita, lets get you a more suitable drink."

He shoved past Gavi with you in tow, walking through past the VIP security and towards the general bar. You looked back over your shoulder at Gavi, who was obviously fuming. Pedri went to stand in front of him, blocking his path in case he decided to retaliate.

"Did you hear what he said to me? I should-"

"You should sit down and not make a scene." Pedri said, looking Gavi in the eye. "Martin wont be coming out with us again, but if you get kicked out of the club, you'll be in deep shit. And you'll worry y/n."

"Why would I care-"

"You just do. Don't make her more anxious than she already is. Sit. Relax. Have one more shot if you want - one, Gavi. Control yourself."

Pedri took his seat again, and the bottle girl came back for them to continue whatever pseudo-flirting they were engaged in.

At the bar, you weren't doing too hot. You thought Martin just wanted to get you away from an uncomfortable encounter, but he seemed intent on getting you to drink. His arm was still tight around your waist as he ordered two Long Islands from the bartender (for all my dear readers that don't drink, that is a mix of rum, tequila, triple sec, gin, and vodka with a splash of cola. Probably the most alcohol you can get in one cocktail). Your stomach dropped further. You didn't usually drink. You hated the feeling of being drunk, and hated more the feeling of not being in control of yourself. But Martin was looking at you like you were the stars that filled the sky as he handed you the glass, clinking his against it, and you couldn't say no. You wanted to keep him happy.

So you sipped, slowly and nervously, as he stood behind you, arms around your waist and swaying to the beat of the music. Ferran had also approached the bar, making conversation with Martin as you tried not to let your distress become visible on your face. The song changed to something more base-y and seductive, and the grip around your waist tightened.

"Come on, bonita. I want to see how you move for me."

You were grateful to be parted from your drink as you were pulled onto the dancefloor, bodies trapping you against your date. You swayed your hips to the beat, allowing yourself to be taken by the feeling of the music. Marin turned you to face him, resting his arms around your lower back, and resting his forehead against yours. It felt good: being able to look at him rather than the other club goers. You felt the occasional brush against your ass (you assumed from Ferran), but worked on steadying yourself. The alcohol was now hitting your system, causing you to become less stable on your feet. Maybe you couldn't handle liquor as well as you thought.

Gavi was back in the booth preparing to take a 4th shot, despite clear instructions from Pedri to stop at 2. The bouncer had said his ID was fake despite letting him in the previous week. The bottle girls, who were blushing and flirting with the other team members, talked to Gavi like he was ordering from the kids menu. And now, his final straw - Martin. "Cabron" didn't bother him. It was a common phrase on the field, usually an indication he was doing well. But it was "poquito" and all the other references to being a child that got under his skin. Children didn't drink - adults did. That's what Gavi was doing, finishing his fourth with no chaser. The alcohol was calming him, making him less likely to punch someone in the face.

He had undone the first button of his shirt and sat on the sofa with his legs spread. He was about to tell the bouncer to let a pretty young thing into the VIP to keep him entertained, when he saw you struggling to walk on the outer edges of the crowd. He should have stayed seated. You were here with your... what was Martin? A date? A boyfriend? Whatever he was, he was meant to be looking after you, not Gavi. Gavi was supposed to be having fun, taking shots and dancing with girls. But he wasn't. He was pushing himself off the couch to go and see why you were walking around shaky and alone.

"Where are you going?" He asked, grabbing onto your shoulders.

"I'm trying to find the bathroom. I feel shaky and nauseous."

"Where is Martin? He didn't offer to take you home?"

"With Ferran. He said to come find him when I feel better. It's fine, he doesn't have to leave because of me." You stumbled forward with that last sentence, being stabilized by Pablo (who, while drunk, was doing better than you). He walked you into the bathroom of the club, helping you lean over the sink and splash some water over your face. He delicately gathered your hair in one hand, keeping it away from the faucet. He looked at the top of your back, shoulder blades peaking out the top. Without thinking he brought his other hand to rest there, rubbing gentle circles into your back as you tried to calm your nausea and anxiety.

"I'm sorry that Martin swore at you." You said, meeting Gavi's eyes through the mirror.

"Don't apologize for him. He's an ass for trying to make you drink. He's an ass for letting you walk around while drunk."

You got up from the sink, turning to face Gavi. His hand slid from your back now to grip your arm. He looked you straight in the eye, despite his vision being foggy at the edges from the shots.

"Don't say that about him, Gavi. Be respectful."

"Why?" The question came out as a yell, startling you slightly.

"Why do i need to respect him when he's cursing me out and treating you like shit? Because I'm younger than him?"

"No one said anything about your age Gavi."

"Why do you keep making excuses for him?"

It was the question you were scared of. The question that lingered in the back of your own mind even before leaving Gavi's lips. Martin was pushing you far outside of your comfort zone, in a way that you hadn't allowed anyone to before.

"He likes me, Gavi. He wants to see where things go. I think I want that too. I've been living my life one way until this point, but obviously it's not working. I have trouble getting close to people," your eyes were welling with tears, "and even when I do get close to them, I can never keep them in my life. No one wants to be around me. So if Martin does, I have to try, don't I?"

Gavi felt a pang in his chest, right where his heart was. It broke him to see you like this - shaking and in tears in a club bathroom, while the man you were trying to impress was probably grinding on other girls. Gavi told himself it had nothing to do with you specifically, just fairness. You were objectively a good person, and you deserved to be treated well by everyone around you. He tugged your shoulder, bringing you in for a tight embrace. You tucked your head into his shoulder, allowing your tears to fall more freely now that he couldn't see you. Something in you began to calm. It was like Gavi had flipped a switch. Your shaking gradually decreased, and you no longer felt like throwing up your internal organs.

"It's because you're a good person."

"What?" Gavi replied, unable to decipher your mumblings while you spoke into his shoulder. You separated from him and looked him in the eyes.

"I don't want you to say things like that about Martin because you're a good person. It just... feels wrong to watch you be a typical rude and angry man. It doesn't fit you."

Gavi let out a breathy laugh, moving away from you and towards the door.

"A lot of people would disagree with you. Being angry is my defining quality."

"On the field maybe. But don't bring that into your real life. I like you how you are."

There was that feeling again. Gavi could try and blame the alcohol, but this was different. It was like there was a match lit right under his skin, burning him from the inside, making it hard for him to breathe - hard to not touch you. Maybe he need help. Or to stop drinking.

"You know I could never be angry with you doctora."

___

You woke up the following morning on the couch of your apartment. You were still in your clothes and makeup from the night before. Your phone was dead and on the coffee table in front of you. You started to recall the night before in bits and pieces, with your interaction with Gavi being the most vivid. You set your phone to charge, going to wipe off the makeup from last night. You wracked your brain trying to remember how you got home. A part of you hoped it was Gavi that brought you there. For safety reasons (nothing else ofc). No one would come near you while walking with Gavi.

As your phone came back on, you heard the *ding* of about 80 messages. You finished washing your face and headed over to check.

[Martin Zubimmendi]: Sad that you didn't invite me in last night. Hope to see you again soon Bonita xx

[Gavi]: Text me when you get up so I know you're alive.

[Gavi]: Are you coming in today?

[Dr. Gonzalez]: Please call me immediately about missing this morning's shift.

It was only after reading that last one that you looked at the time. 10:41am. You had missed all of the morning activities at the camp.

"Good morning Dr. Gonzalez! You wanted me to call?"

"The morning is almost over, miss. I was informed by Pablo this morning that you were at an appointment and not to expect you until noon. Please note it is not appropriate to have the players relay messages for you. In the future, please communicate with me directly about any hours you will miss."

You unclenched your jaw, relived over the fact that you still had a job.

"Yes sir. I apologize. I'll speak with you directly next time. See you at noon."

You ran to get changed, and as you waited for your coffee to brew, you texted your savior.

[You]: you're actually the best friend on the planet. Thank you for covering for me.

[Gavi]: 1. I know I'm the best and 2. You owe me

[You]: anything you want

[Gavi]: famous last words doctora

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I'm hoping the length will keep y'all at bay for a few days. I have been feeling kinda crappy about myself for the last few days, which is why I have missed some of the prompt challenge. Reading messages and comments from y'all has made me feel better, so thanks <3 I am going to make the parts longer from now on to avoid the story being like 25 parts. Please feel free to leave any feedback/ comments. I love hearing from y'all (bonus points if you also say y'all).

Songs I listened to while writing this: Often (the Weeknd), Starboy (the Weeknd), Baby (madison beer), Primadonna (marina & the diamonds), CALL ME BACK (Chase Atlantic), Test me (Melanie Martinez), The Eve (EXO), Sneakers (Knox), Okay (Chase Atlantic), 18 (Anarbor), FOOLS (troye sivan), The A Team (Ed Sheeran), Disasterology (PTV), You're on your own kid (Taylor Swift), Ya'burnee (Halsey), Emergency contact (PTV), A match into water (PTV), Josslyn (olivia o'brien), Anti-hero (Taylor Swift), English love affair (5sos), needy (ariana grande), if you can't hang (Sleeping with Sirens), Talk me down (troye sivan), Young God (Halsey), mockingbird (eminem), would've could've should've (taylor swift), Can I (kehlani), Mary on a cross (Ghost), Happier (ed sheeran), Roman Holiday (Halsey), Dangerous woman (ariana grande), Devil in me (Halsey), lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off (P!ATD), funeral (pheobe bridgers).

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle

*pls let me know if you want to be added

#pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavi slow burn #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi #gavi x you #gavi fluff #fc barca #footballer imagine #footballer #pablo gavi fluff #gavi fic #pablo gavi fanfiction #gavi fanfic #gavisuntiedboot

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justabigassnerd · 8 months

Text

Newest Team Member

Pairing - Ethan Hunt x daughter!reader

Word count - 5,320

Warnings - violence (guns), death, child endangerment (not on Ethan's part), allusions to sex, swearing, angst

Summary - a one night stand changes Ethan's entire life

A/N - hey y'all it's time for another part of the Lil' Hunt universe!! I'm sorry it's taking me so long to churn out fics I swear I am trying. since this is the first fic to come chronologically in the universe despite it being my second Lil' Hunt fic, I will be making sure the masterlist (when it's posted) will be in chronological order although they can work as standalones. anyways I'll stop rambling now, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

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Ethan often found that he never knew what to do with himself in between missions. His life was entirely taken over by the IMF so being in between missions was a horrible state of limbo for him. He itched to be handed a message detailing his next mission and to be told it would mean he had to get to work almost instantly. With nothing to do but sit in a safe house and twiddle his thumbs until he gets his next mission, Ethan decides to go for a walk around the city he’s in. He wanders the streets until he stumbles across a bar. It wasn’t anything flashy, but he figured he earnt himself a beer or two.

As he walks in the bar he’s greeted by the overwhelming stench of beer and sweat. He skillfully manoeuvres himself through the sea of patrons to get to the bar and order a drink for himself. As he’s handed a beer bottle, he notices a woman sitting a couple of seats away from him and when he sees the forlorn expression on her face, he decides to cross to her.

“Is this seat taken?” Ethan asks, pointing to the empty seat beside the woman as she looks up at him, eyes slightly wide from the shock of Ethan sneaking up on her but she soon relaxes.

“Knock yourself out.” The woman says, gesturing to the seat and turning back to the bar as Ethan seats himself alongside her, placing his beer in front of him.

“I know I’m a complete stranger, but I noticed you looked a bit down. Is everything okay?” Ethan asks, loud enough to be heard over the music and commotion, but quiet enough for the words to stay in between the two of them. She stays silent for a moment before deciding to speak.

“Just an argument with a friend. Nothing can be done now.” She says with a shrug, smiling sadly before lifting her cocktail to her lips and taking a sip.

“Anything I could do to help?” Ethan then asks, always driven to help people as best he can.

“You could tell me your name.” The woman says with a chuckle, looking over at Ethan who lets out a small laugh himself at the realisation that they had in fact not exchanged names.

“I’m Joe. What’s your name?” The fake name comes quickly to Ethan, knowing it’s safer for both her and him to use a fake name in case anyone who may be a danger sees them together. The woman purses her lips slightly, looking him up and down before letting out a laugh.

“Sorry, you don’t look like much of a Joe. Your parents should’ve thought twice about that name. I’m Abby.” She says, introducing herself after having a laugh about Ethan’s fake name. She then holds her hand out for Ethan to shake which he does with a grin.

The pair continue to have drinks while discussing everything and nothing at the same time. Ethan was just grateful that for most of the questions she asked about him, he had preset lies ready to tell her so she wouldn’t find out about the real-life he led. Before they knew it, they heard last orders being called and Ethan suddenly realised how long he’d been at the bar for. But with the handful of beers he had drank he found himself too tipsy to care.

“So… Joe, your place or mine?”

Ethan woke up the next morning alone in a hotel room. He furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about how he got there in the first place, his memory fuzzy from the night before. He sits up slowly, blinking to adjust to his surroundings as he glances around, immediately catching sight of his clothes strewn all over the floor. When he realises what happened his eyes widen in horror, and he hurriedly gets changed before searching for any kind of note Abby could have left for him since she was nowhere to be found. As he prepares to leave the room, memories flash in his mind of coming back here with Abby and ending up in bed with her. After Ethan has changed and determined that Abby is gone with very little chance of returning, he exits the hotel, retreating to the safe house quickly vowing to not do something like that again.

Ethan would not see Abby again until almost ten months later.

Ethan was placed on a team tracking down a group that was rapidly becoming a bigger threat. When they first emerged, the IMF thought very little of them and figured local police would track them down and stop them before they got any bigger and their faith in that assumption was proven when they disappeared before reappearing after nearly ten months. Ethan and his team had very little trouble in tracking down the group’s main operating warehouse and when they entered the building, they were only moderately surprised to see a group of henchmen with guns staring them down. Ethan and his team were of course very quick to pull out their own guns and get locked in a standoff. Every person itching to pull the trigger but not wanting to initiate a gunfight in fear of injury and death. A couple of minutes pass and all of a sudden, a door is thrown open and a woman marches in. A woman Ethan recognises.

Abby storms in, glancing around at her men before noticing the team opposite her and a sadistic smirk comes to her face when she recognises Ethan.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Joe… or should I say, Ethan Hunt?” Abby says, pacing gleefully before she approaches one of her henchmen, whispering in his ear and sending him off while Ethan’s eyes widen slightly at the fact, she knew his name.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised Hunt. I knew who you were the moment I saw you in that bar. You can’t be one of the IMF’s top agents and expect us to not know who you are. You caused us a lot of problems Hunt.” Abby says, a ferocity covering her face that Ethan had never expected to come from her. Ethan struggled to process her words, surprised he never figured out she knew who he was or that she was working for the group that he had been tracking.

“So you guys hid because I met you? You were that scared of me that you hid away for almost ten months?” Ethan asks, grip tightening on his gun as he stares Abby down who merely laughs at his words.

“We’re not scared of you. You have one hell of an ego to think that. No, in fact, it’s hard to run a business like this when you’re pregnant.” As if it was cued, the henchman who had been sent out of the room mere minutes ago emerged with a baby in hand. Abby takes the baby and holds them with a look of disgust.

“You know I never wanted kids. But when a one-night stand like you knocked me up. I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to get you off our damn backs.” Abby says and Ethan’s eyes widen at her words, lowering his gun slightly to study the baby in her arms.

“Oh yes, Ethan. This brat is yours. We ran a DNA test and everything the moment she was born.” Abby says, glee overtaking her features as Ethan lowers the gun completely, shocked at the revelation.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” One of his teammates, Jamie, hisses as he notices Ethan lowering his gun.

“Hunt, get it together she’s bullshitting you.” Elsie says harshly, glaring over at Ethan who doesn’t lift his gun, still in shock with his mind swimming with a thousand thoughts.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Daniel mutters, pulling the trigger on his gun and the bullet hits one of the henchmen in his heart. That action caused a gunfight between the two groups. Ethan and his team dove behind cover while the henchmen did the same. Ethan glared over at his teammates who simply shrugged and continued to fire back at the enemy. Taking a quick peek over the box he had hidden himself behind, Ethan was shocked to see that Abby had run off and that the baby was on the floor in the middle of this gunfight. The second Ethan heard the cries of his baby girl it was like something snapped inside him. He steadied his hands and took out the remaining henchmen like he was doing nothing more than playing catch in the park.

“Go and check the rest of the building!” Ethan yells over to the team, already sprinting forward to grab the baby girl who is still sobbing.

The second you were scooped up into Ethan’s arms you began to settle down, tears still in your eyes but Ethan began to wipe them away carefully, holding you closer to his chest as his team thundered down the halls in search of other members of the group.

“I got you, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Ethan whispers soothingly to you as he begins to bounce you lightly in his arms moving away from the bodies that littered the floor and instead moving towards the entrance, continuing to bounce you gently as he waits for his team. He hears no gunshots, and no evidence of anyone else in the building, giving away to him that those of the group that were in the building when the fight happened, had run for their lives.

“Anyone who was here ran for it. This place is deserted. Even that girlfriend of yours ditched.” Jamie says, taunting slightly as Ethan’s jaw clenched.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Ethan says lowly, glaring at Jamie who shrugs unapologetically.

“Well, you knocked her up.” Daniel accuses, pointing at you snuggled in Ethan’s arms making him hold you slightly tighter.

“I don’t think she’s yours. They’re lying to you Ethan to get you out of the way they said it themselves. Ditch the baby and let’s go.” Elsie says harshly, her words almost a hiss as she looks at Ethan.

“Whether she’s mine or not I can’t just leave a baby here. She’s coming back with us.” Ethan says firmly, glaring at each of his team members in turn who all shrink away from the intensity of Ethan’s glare. Ethan may not have confirmation of whether you were actually his baby or not, but everything in him was screaming that Abby was telling the truth. She may have been using this information to mess with him mentally, and his team was convinced there was no truth to her words. But Ethan’s heart knew different, and when he reached out to gently run the back of his index finger along your cheek and you grabbed it in your small hand, he had no doubt in his mind that you were his baby girl.

“We should head out. We don’t want to get caught by any local police or anything. We’ll get back stateside as soon as possible.” Daniel says and the team quickly exit the building, climbing into the van. As the van begins to drive off, Ethan notices that you’ve begun to doze off and a small smile comes to his face. On the journey, Elsie manages to find some plane tickets back to America, but all the flights have different times. Ethan was granted the earliest flight back which meant the team had to quickly put together a passport for you as well at Ethan’s request to ensure you could make it back to America as well.

When the team made it back to the safe house, Ethan packed his belongings, keeping you in his arms because the moment he tried to lay you on the bed so he could pack quicker you began to cry, only soothed by the feeling of being in Ethan’s arms.

“Okay, we’ve got a bit of time to kill before our flight so let’s get you some supplies, huh?” Ethan asks you softly as he grabs his bag and smiles down at you. He knew he wasn’t going to get a response out of you, but the way you looked up at him curiously was enough for him. After exiting the safe house, giving his team no more than a half-hearted goodbye as he went, Ethan heads in the direction of the nearest shop that sells baby supplies and heads inside, grabbing the basics just to last you until he gets back to America and can buy more.

After getting what you need, he heads to the airport and finds somewhere to change you before having to go into one of the airport's cafes to ask if they could heat a bottle for you which they do so with a smile. After getting the bottle back and at the perfect temperature, Ethan finds himself somewhere to sit and gently offers you the bottle which you grab eagerly, drinking as quick as you can.

“Whoa, sweetheart, slow down a little. Don’t want anything bad happening from you drinking this too fast.” Ethan warns softly, moving the bottle away from your mouth as you squirm to reach out for it. He figured you might’ve been at least a little hungry but the way you were acting indicated that you were more than a little hungry. Ethan gently brought the bottle back to your lips as he began to wonder if this was something he needed to be worried about or if he was just reading too much into it. After all, he had never really been around babies before. When you finish the bottle, Ethan has to think about what to do next, he knew some basics of baby care but some of it was still fuzzy in his memory. A woman noticed Ethan’s concerned expression as he looked down at you and took pity on him, telling her toddler to stick with his dad before getting up from her seat and crossing to him.

“Forgive me if I’m intruding but do you need a hand?” The woman asks gently, looking down at Ethan as he looks up at her.

“I just can’t remember what I’m supposed to do after a feed.” Ethan admits, a slight blush of embarrassment flushing across his face as he sits you up on his lap.

“You’re already on the right track. Sitting your baby up is good and then gently burp them just to make sure there’s no trapped air. After that, they’ll be right as rain.” The woman says, her kind smile never leaving her face as Ethan’s eyes widen in realisation, instantly positioning you correctly and gently patting your back.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.” Ethan says gratefully, smiling up at the woman who shakes her head.

“Just helping out a fellow parent. Someone helped me out when I had my first baby, so I do my best to help people out now too.” The woman says softly, nodding at Ethan before bidding him goodbye and crossing over to her family. Ethan watches as the little boy hurls himself into his mother’s arms when she returns and Ethan softens, looking down at you where you had settled on his shoulder after the burping. When it came time for him to board the plane, you had practically dozed off in his arms. He boarded smoothly and found his seat, keeping you securely in his lap as he settled himself in his seat. You remained sleeping until the plane began to take off and your eyes opened, and you looked up at Ethan with teary eyes, clearly scared of the engines and feeling of taking off.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetheart. It seems scary and loud, but I promise you’re safe.” Ethan says soft enough to provide some comfort as you stare at him, reaching your little arms up and placing your hands on his cheeks, bringing a smile to his face that in turn brings a smile to yours. Ethan bounced you on his knee ever so slightly which made you giggle before snuggling back into Ethan’s chest, moving your hands from his face to his shirt where you grabbed a handful of his shirt and began dozing again. Ethan braced a hand on your back and rested his head against the seat and let his eyes slip shut to sleep for a while. He only had to get up once to change you and the rest of the flight was smooth and he soon found himself back in America. He was tired from the day he had, his sleep on the plane helped but he was sure he needed a proper sleep in a proper bed. Despite having the thought of wanting to do nothing more than collapse into bed, Ethan had to make a quick pitstop at the IMF headquarters to talk to the Director about what happened. He begins the journey from the airport to the IMF headquarters, entering the building once he arrives, avoiding the stares of fellow IMF personnel who stare at him with raised eyebrows when they see the baby in his arms.

“Director Brassel, forgive me for intruding but could I have a word?” Ethan asks, knocking on the Director’s office and entering upon gaining permission.

“Ethan, back so soon? And… you have a baby?” Director Brassel says, faltering when he sees Ethan setting down his bag and adjusting the way he’s holding you so you can be more comfortable in his arms.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, sir.” Ethan says, launching into the full story of what happened from when he met Abby that night in the bar to right now. He saw the variety of emotions swimming through his Director’s eyes as he told the story and all he could hope as he spoke was that he wouldn’t be cast out of the IMF. By the time Ethan finishes his story he’s almost out of breath, having explained everything he deemed important.

“Ethan… that is a real turn of events. And you’re sure this baby is yours?” Director Brassel says, easing himself up from his seat and slowly making his way over to Ethan.

“I was going to head down to the med bay after this to get her checked out and also to have a DNA test run. But I’m confident already in saying that she’s mine.” Ethan says, bouncing you slightly as you let out a giggle. Brassel stops himself in front of Ethan looking down at you and then at Ethan.

“May I?” He asks, holding his hands up as Ethan looks down at you and then back up at Brassel before nodding and handing you over to him so he can get a look at you. However, the moment you were out of Ethan’s hands you began to cry, squirming and reaching in Ethan’s direction as Brassel quickly handed you back over, your cries quickly turning into sniffles as you settled in Ethan’s arms once again.

“I am so sorry, sir.” Ethan apologises, wiping your tears gently and rocking you to soothe you.

“No need to apologise. She clearly feels very safe with you.” Brassel dismisses with a chuckle, smiling at Ethan. Looking down at you one more time, Ethan is reminded of what he came here to ask about in the first place.

“Sir, I was wondering if I could have a couple of days off? Once I get the DNA results back, I will need time to think about my next move, whether I give her up, keep her, or maybe there’s a secret third option I don’t know, but I’ll need time to think about it. As much as I enjoy the work I do here I need to have a clear head for whatever I do next.” Ethan asks as you snuggle into him, not paying attention to either of the two men anymore. To Ethan’s relief, Brassel’s smile doesn’t leave his face and he nods.

“Of course. Take as much time as you need and just get in contact when you’re ready to get back into the field.” He says, making the tension that had been sitting within Ethan dissipate almost immediately upon hearing the words. Now relaxed, Ethan nods slightly.

“Thank you so much, sir.” Ethan says gratefully, giving his Director a quick nod of acknowledgement before being dismissed and heading down to the med bay to get you checked over by the medic. When Ethan reaches the med bay, he’s greeted by one of the medics and ushered into one of the private rooms.

“Ethan, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jane asks as both adults sit themselves down on chairs.

“I rescued this little girl earlier today. I just wanted to have her checked over and make sure everything’s okay.” Ethan says, drawing Jane’s attention to the baby in Ethan’s arms and she nods before looking back up at Ethan.

“What else can I do for you? I can tell by the look on your face that there’s more to this story.” Jane says, beginning to dig around in her equipment for the things she needs to give you a check-up.

“She’s the daughter of a woman I slept with almost ten months ago. There’s a good chance she’s my baby so I need to have a DNA test done.” Ethan admits, slightly embarrassed that Jane had seen through his façade so quickly. Thankfully, Jane nods and digs around for the equipment she needs for the DNA test while encouraging Ethan to sit you up on his lap so she can examine you. You didn’t take too kindly to the poking and prodding, as well as the cold stethoscope that was used to listen to your heart and lungs. You didn’t like when you had to be sat down out of Ethan’s embrace to have your weight checked but soon settled once you were back in his arms. Finally, Jane took a small swab and rubbed it on the inside of your cheek to collect what she needed for the DNA test. While Jane recorded everything and put the swab into the DNA tester, Ethan gave you all the fuss and attention you required as you giggled.

“Well, the good news is, her heart and lungs are strong, and she seems to be a strong girl. However, she is a little underweight for her age, so I’d just suggest giving her a little extra when you feed her, just so she gets that weight up a little.” Jane says, looking at Ethan who nods, realising that Abby and her group must not have been feeding you enough and he tenses his jaw to prevent his anger from coming out through words. Before another word could be spoken between the two, the DNA test machine prints something out and Jane picks it up, eyes scanning the words before looking back up at Ethan who without thinking, begins to hold his breath in anticipation.

“Well, congratulations Ethan this little bundle of joy is yours.” Jane says, a soft smile covering her face as she looks up at Ethan who releases the breath he had been holding before smiling with a nod in Jane’s direction before looking down at you as you let out a giggle, seemingly sensing Ethan’s happiness. Ethan ducked down to press a tender kiss to the top of your head and his heart swelled as you giggled further before the realisation of his decision hit him like a ton of bricks. He now had to make the decision to keep you or give you away.

Thanking Jane, Ethan gets up, leaves the room and then exits the IMF building before making his way back to his designated safe house. Once he reaches the safe house, he feeds and burps you before pulling his phone out of his pocket, staring at Luther’s contact in his phone, debating whether to have Benji and Luther come over to help him make a clear decision. After a few minutes of internal debate, Ethan texts Luther, telling him to get to the safe house as quickly as possible and to bring Benji with him. Bouncing you gently as he looks down at you, Ethan can’t help but smile.

“I guess I need to figure out a good name for you, huh sweetheart?”

By the time the two men arrived, Ethan had changed you and the two of you were now dozing on the sofa but the entrance of Benji and Luther stirred Ethan who quickly shushed the two the moment they came into his line of sight, carefully getting up from the sofa and crossing to them, ignoring the look of shock and confusion that covered their faces at the sight of a baby nestled in Ethan’s arms.

“Ethan… have you stolen a baby?” Benji asks, eyes wide as he looks from the bundle in Ethan’s arms to Ethan’s face. When Ethan looked over at Luther he could see a similar expression, however, Luther was better at hiding his shock than Benji. Luther’s shock all laid within his eyes whereas Benji’s shock was across his face as clear as day.

“No Benji, I didn’t steal a baby. I slept with someone a few months back and well… she ended up being a part of that group I was tracking and when she showed me her, I just couldn’t leave her behind so, Benji, Luther, this is my baby girl.” Ethan says introducing you to the team despite the fact you were still sleeping happily in his arms. He then watches Benji and Luther process the fact Ethan admitted to sleeping with someone from an enemy group, albeit accidentally, before they focus on you.

“Does she have a name?” Luther asks, a softness to his voice that not many get to hear as he watches you sleep against his chest.

“I’ve been doing some thinking and I think I got it. y/n Hunt.” Ethan says with a gentle smile, looking from you up to Benji and Luther who break out into the softest of smiles.

“Is this why you wanted us here? To meet her?” Luther then asks, watching as Ethan’s jaw tenses slightly as he shakes his head ever so slightly, the movement so minute it could’ve been missed entirely if Benji and Luther had not had their full attention on Ethan.

“Yes and no. I wanted you guys to meet her, of course. You’re two of the people I trust most. But I’ve got a difficult choice to make. I need to decide whether I keep her or give her away.” Ethan explains, looking at his closest friends, a deep pleading in his eyes that makes the two men exchange a look before focusing back on Ethan.

“This isn’t an easy choice, Ethan. It’s a dangerous life we lead.” Benji starts, his brain working as fast as possible to weigh up every pro and con of both situations.

“But we know the best ways to keep her safe. If she’s sent away, people could find out she’s yours, especially if that group tracks her down.” Luther then says, countering Benji’s point gently, both of them sharing a quick glance as they realise the other has made a valid argument. The three men share different viewpoints on the pros and cons of each decision. After about ten to fifteen minutes of debating Luther speaks up.

“We’ve debated this as much as we can, but this is up to you at the end of the day. She’s your little girl and we know you’ll pick what’s best for her. And we’ll support you every step of the way.” He says gently, watching as Ethan looks down at you, gently brushing your soft wisps of hair away from your face as you curl closer into his chest. Benji and Luther could see the internal debate going on within Ethan, how he struggled with knowing that you could be in danger regardless of what he decided to do. After a minute of silent debate, Ethan looks back up at his team.

“I’m keeping her. She’ll be safer with me, and I can protect her from anyone who would try to hurt her.” Ethan concludes, watching as Benji and Luther nod with gentle smiles.

“Looks like we have a new teammate now.” Benji says with a soft chuckle, looking over at Luther who lets out a light scoff, shaking his head at Benji’s words.

“Can I hold her?” Benji then suddenly asks, looking at Ethan for permission who hesitates.

“You can try, but so far, she’s not liked being out of my arms for more than a second so please don’t be offended if she starts crying.” Ethan says, handing you over to Benji, trying to be as gentle as possible to not rouse you. As Benji held you, your eyes blinked open, and you looked up at the man who was now holding you in place of Ethan and Ethan found himself once again holding his breath. To his shock however, you just smiled up at Benji and snuggled further into his arms, giggling at the shocked expression on Benji’s face before a huge grin crossed his face. Both Ethan and Luther could tell how instantly smitten Benji was with you as he watched you quietly as you reached up and grabbed his pinkie finger in your hand, melting Benji even further.

“I’ve known her for about ten minutes, but I’d already die for her.” Benji states, looking up at Ethan who can’t do much more than smile back at Benji, fully understanding how Benji is feeling because it’s exactly how Ethan felt himself when he held you for the first time and saw how you settled so quickly in his arms. Benji continued to coo and fawn over you while you just giggled at the light tone in his voice, clearly as smitten with Benji as he was with you.

“May I?” Luther then asks, looking at Ethan who nods before glancing at Benji who passes you over hesitantly, visibly upset at having to give you to Luther. Just like you did with Benji, you accepted being in Luther’s arms instantly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and curling closer as Luther watched, melting with each movement. Ethan and Benji had never seen Luther melt like this. He was usually so stoic, but you had reduced him into a puddle within seconds.

“You comfy there, Lil’ Hunt?” Luther says softly, so softly in fact that Ethan and Benji had almost missed the comment entirely. When they realised what he said, the two melted further at the nickname that they were sure would stick. Luther continued to talk to you in whispered tones as Ethan and Benji watched on.

“Shit, I forgot to buy more things for her and now all the shops are closed.” Ethan swears quietly, immediately ending up on the receiving end of a death glare from both Benji and Luther.

“It’s okay, we can figure all that out tomorrow. For now, I think little y/n deserves all the fuss in the world.” Benji says, before asking Luther if he could hold you again. The two of the men begin to bicker lightly with each other as they argue over who gets to hold you while Ethan watches with an amused grin. It was reliving for Ethan to see how Benji and Luther took to you immediately, but it was a million times better to see how quickly you took to them, evidence to him that you felt safe around his two teammates, and he knew he could trust them to look after you no matter what.

That day, Ethan and his team got a new mission, a permanent one, to keep you safe and protected no matter what.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #lil' hunt #lil' hunt universe #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #mission impossible rogue nation #mission impossible dead reckoning #ethan hunt mission impossible #ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #tom cruise #tom cruise mission impossible

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bby-deerling · 4 months

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crackerbox palace (zoro x reader)

dedicated to the anon who wanted to see artist!reader joining the crew! i got a bit carried away, so this one's a bit longer! as always, this can be read standalone, but is part of my larger zoro x artist!reader continuity.

ft. fem!reader, artist!reader, fluff, strawhat antics, sanji being sanji, a bit of canon divergence to allow for reader to join the crew

wc: 1.8k masterlist

Shortly after the events at the Baratie, the Merry docks for a brief supply restock at a small island nearby. With Zoro grievously injured, Nami sends Luffy and Usopp out to find a proper doctor; when they return with a painter in tow, she sighs, not sure why she expected them to heed her directions in the first place.

The allure of a quick portrait painting by a street vendor was too tempting for Luffy and Usopp to resist, and you jumped at the opportunity for some customers, and some good company. Rambling about your dream to be a painter renowned enough to leave a permanent mark on history gets your muses excited, and they shared their own dreams in turn.

“Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to paint the future King of the Pirates! I wish I could capture the rest of your journey!” you gushed, grin plastered across your face as you spun around your canvas to show Luffy your first finished piece. Stars in his eyes, he praised your work with excitement, and nearly ruined the painting as he eagerly inspected it; however, as you motioned Usopp to sit take his place and sit for his portrait, you picked up on a faint sense of gears turning in the rubber boy’s head as he watches you.

As you worked, putting more effort than usual into steadying your wrists on account of how hard the two of them were making you laugh, movement blurring in your peripheral vision breaks your focus—a petty thief was reaching for the great “Captain” Usopp’s wallet. His slick fingers were fast, but you were quicker to the draw, brushes clattering on the ground and paint streaking across your clothes as you reached for one of your throwing knives, launching the blade straight through his hand and pinning it to the ground. The three of you quickly ran the pickpocket off, and after some lively conversation, you returned to your task of capturing Usopp’s likeness, refining the forms of the highlights and shadows on his face.

“How come you jumped in to help us?” the sniper asked, eyeing you curiously while trying not to move too much.

“When I paint someone, I feel like I leave a piece of my soul in the work. I feel a connection with the people I paint—I know we don’t know each other well, but I feel a responsibility to take care of my friends.” you said, sheepish grin on your face and an echo of loneliness in your voice. Pink flush tickled your cheeks, embarrassed at getting attached so quickly to the exuberant strangers that had captivated you all afternoon.

“Since we’re friends now, join my crew!” Luffy said decisively, his thoughtful expression from before replaced with a wide grin.

“Luffy, are you sure?” Usopp whispered hesitantly, grabbing onto his captain’s shoulder as he sized you up.

“’Course I am!” he exclaimed, throwing his rubbery arm around your shoulders, prompting you to grin and stow your materials in your travel easel. Luffy laughed at your eagerness—he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t sure you were going to accept, after all.

“C’mon, show me to the ship, Captain!” you say excitedly once you click the final latch on your pochade box, buzzing and nearly vibrating with the promise of abandoning a stagnant downward spiral for an opportunity to chase your wildest dreams.

And it was as simple as that; here you were, boarding the Merry after a brief detour to pack some essential belongings. Itching to travel, sail, and feel the thrill of the sea breeze through your hair, there are no reservations as you step onto the deck; one life was all you had, and Luffy’s energy had thoroughly convinced you that from this point forward, every single moment would be full of meaning, purpose, and happiness—the true kind, that feeds one’s soul with a hearty and nourishing meal.

“Hope you don’t mind being put on first aid duty for a while—we don’t have a doctor yet.” Nami says after a brief introduction, shooting a glare at an oblivious Luffy. “Zoro’s pretty beat up.” she clarifies, handing you supplies as she motions her head towards the injured swordsman leaning against the railing.

Giving her a gracious smile as she fills your arms with bandages and salves, you nod and assure her it’s no problem at all, feeling a sense to prove yourself and get into the navigator’s good graces.

“You’ll love her, Zoro! She fights with two knives at once!” Usopp exclaims as he and Luffy make fake stabbing motions at each other, which quickly devolves into play-fighting before Nami scolds them and gives them something productive to do, confirming your intuition was correct in assuming that she was the one who kept things running smoothly.

Zoro simply sighs, barely paying you a passing glance; one could hardly blame him as his steely gaze fixes ahead at nothing, fighting to not drift out of consciousness. Crouching in front of him, you give him a gentle smile and introduce yourself; he gives you a curt nod in return, and you start to clean his gash. Turning your attention from his clenched jaw, tanned skin, and short, messy mint green hair, focused doe-eyes are glued to the messy, bloody, oozing injury that looks like it had already been ripped back open a few times.

“I heard from Luffy that you got this wound from Dracule Mihawk…” you say hesitantly as you work, curious but not wanting to pry too deeply. His stare is cautious, but a glint in his eyes urges you to continue your thought. A spark lights behind your gaze as your lips curl upward. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? That he sees your potential? That means you’re really gonna do it—you’re gonna be the World’s Strongest Swordsman!”

Upon hearing your words, a slight smile forms on his face and you truly look at him for the first time. Sunset casts a soft orange light, warm and comforting, over his tired face; you feel your heart stutter as you smile back at him.

“Makes every bit of the pain worth it.” he replies, letting his grin grow larger until another dab of anti-septic makes him cringe again. Remnants of a smile still on your face, you let your bottom lip pout apologetically, silently sympathizing with his discomfort.

“I know it hurts, but it looks a bit infected—we gotta make sure we keep this clean.” you mumble, voice trailing off as you become intently focused on tending to the areas of his wound that were starting to secrete a mystery yellow liquid.

Though the task at hand was less than appetizing, the tantalizing scent of something brewing in the ship’s kitchen intermingles with the scent of chemicals and sea salt in the air; as if on cue, a pair of suave footsteps nearly dances beside you, breaking your concentration and making you huff in annoyance.

“What goddess has taken such pity on a man such as me on this lovely evening? Does this gorgeous creature have a name she could—”

“We know each other, Sanji.” you say dryly, only sparing him a momentary glance before going back to cleaning Zoro’s wounds as he laid back against the railing of the Merry. The cook is shocked enough by your words to pause his professions of adoration and scrutinize you, scanning each of your features intently to try to place your face. Eventually, a wave of recognition washes over his face, light sparking in his eyes at the successfully recovered memory.

“Of course we do,sunshine.” he says after a long pause, before informing you and the swordsman that dinner would be ready in a few minutes. You nod and go back to your job of patching up Zoro, and Sanji finds himself lighting a cigarette and lurking behind the mast to observe you and eavesdrop on your conversation with the swordsman.

“What was that about?” Zoro asks curiously, wincing as you dab his oozing flesh with more anti-septic, inspecting it carefully before finally reaching for a roll of bandages.

“Met him at the restaurant a few years ago. Went with my family—they were regulars, but they only brought me once in a blue moon.” you reply, biting the inside of your cheeks, deep in focus.

“He make a pass at you?” he asks with a smirk that only grows wider when you giggle mirthfully in return.

“’Course he did, have you met him? He made plenty of moves on my mother too. My brother would always tease her and say Sanji was her little boyfriend.” you say, smiling up at the swordsman; you were already embedding your way under his skin, and making jokes at the dopey lovesick cook’s expense only endeared you to him more.

Zoro throws his head back and laughs, and you end up in a giggling fit, leaving the still eavesdropping Sanji with his jaw agape and feeling like he was in a fever dream, shocked at how quickly you were getting on the stoic swordsman’s good side.

“Stick around me and I’ll keep him out of your hair for you.” he says, ruffling your hair as you tie the last of his bandages. Your grin spreads from ear to ear, cheeks flushed pink, and Sanji swears your eyes are sparkling as they meet Zoro’s—if he wasn’t so jealous, he might swoon at such a display of chemistry.

Instead, he lets the monster in his chest, green as the mosshead’s hair, take over, and bitterly interrupts the sweet moment, informing the two of you that dinner was ready to be plated.

The swordsman nods in acknowledgement and pushes himself up onto his feet; reaching his hand out, he offers you his hand as if you were the one injured, confident grin on his face as you take it and he pulls you up.

“You’re a painter right? Do ya’ draw too?” he asks, walking beside you towards the kitchen, sun nearly sinking behind the horizon.

“I do—I’m better with paints, but it’s a fundamental skill so I practice often.” you reply as you take a seat next to him at the dinner table, giving the rest of your new crewmates a smile and wave.

“That so…I’ve got a few ideas for some cool poses.” he says, getting up to demonstrate one, putting one hand on his hip and holding his other sword up high above his head. The sight is captivating to you, and goofy to the rest of the crew, who start laughing and calling him a dork—Usopp even tosses a dinner roll in his direction, causing Sanji to bark at him and force him to eat it off the floor.

Taking a bite of your mouthwatering baked salmon, the explosion of flavors on your tongue causes a dopey grin erupt on your face; your heart was full and brimming with the happiness and bliss of having new friends, delicious food, and for the first time in a long time, hope of an optimistic future.

Having a new favorite crewmate felt nice too.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #x reader #i stitched together like 4 wips that i abandoned to finally make this into a cohesive fic hehe

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lostloveletters · 1 month

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Big Girls Don't Cry (Bucky Egan x OC)

Summary: After a night out spirals out of control, Holly thinks she's doomed to be a haunted house. Bucky’s brave enough to let the light in.

Note: An angsty first kiss for Holly and Bucky…I’m so overwhelmed by the response to the MotA fics I’ve posted so far, thank you so much🖤 There's going to be a parallel Woody/Brady-centric fic to this, which is why I included a decent ensemble here lol. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Descriptions of a panic attack and related self-inflicted injuries; mentions of death and grief (hurt/comfort). Inevitable historical inaccuracies. Ends on a somewhat suggestive note, but nothing explicit.

Holly was exhausted when Bucky asked her to go to the pub in town with him and some of the other pilots that evening. She initially hesitated, but between his near insisting and her notion that a break from the base would do her good, she accepted the invitation. When she found Woody later on to ask if she was going, Brady had already invited her, a light blush spreading across Woody’s face when she told Holly. The overall group of seven required pushing two tables together and stealing some empty chairs.

“Holly, your drink’s on me. I got $4.50 when you won the last typing contest,” Bucky said.

“You bet on it?” Buck asked.

“I knew she’d win.”

“Beat her own record,” Woody added.

Buck shook his head, smiling a bit. Holly liked Buck a lot, especially the way his face lit up when she asked him about Marge. Seemed to be physically lighter, too, like the weight of being one of the de facto leaders of the 100th was off of his shoulders for that moment in time. He’d get almost flustered if he realized he was rambling, apologizing for taking up so much of her time talking about his girl even though she was the one who asked him.

“Which is why I’m buying my sailor a dark ‘n’ stormy, and the rest of you are on your own.”

She laughed, “Thanks, Bucky.”

‘My sailor.’ He had taken to calling her after they listened to the Nationals-Yankees game together. But she apparently inherited her sailorship from Stan, her preference for rum and penchant for cursing around Bucky (and few others), made him designate her so.

Nevermind she had only been on a boat a handful of times, one of which was the ship that brought her over to England from New York, and no, she didn’t know any sea shanties. He took it upon himself to learn one from a local laborer who worked on schooners at the turn of the century. Of course, Bucky had been drunk when he tried to teach her the song, remembering half of the lyrics and ad-libbing the rest. She left the singing to him.

She still had one secret–an anchor tattoo on her upper arm. An impulsive decision she and Stan made together when she accompanied him to San Francisco the week he shipped out to the Pacific. The same week she met Woody, and the rest of her life started before she could blink.

Being in the pub with everyone was the most normal she’d felt in a while. She hoped could finally shake whatever stormy clouds had made their home in her mind over the past year.

“Hey Holly, you’re from DC, right?” Curt asked abruptly. “You ever meet the President? See him around the neighborhood or something?”

She laughed. “No, unfortunately I’ve never run into President Roosevelt at the drug store.”

“How would he even do that? He’d get mobbed,” Crank said.

Woody nodded. “He’s probably got a mean security detail, too.”

“Well he can’t spend all day in the White House!”

“Why not? Heard they got a bowling alley in there,” Buck said.

“Woody, I’ll get you a beer?” Brady asked, his voice low among the clamor of what President Roosevelt did for fun in the nation's capital.

“Thanks, John.”

Holly sneaked a glance at her best friend when Brady stood up and headed over to the bar. She wasn’t sure if Woody had told him that Holly knew about them. There were few, if any secrets between Holly and Woody, and guys were certainly no exception.

“Look, if I were the president, I’d wanna know my neighbors,” Curt said.

“If you were president,” Buck repeated, toothpick between his teeth as he smiled. “Listen to him.”

“Hey, anybody can run,” Curt said. “That’s what it says in the Bill of Rights or something.”

“That doesn’t mean you should,” Crank said.

“You got my vote, Curt,” Bucky announced, setting his and Holly’s drinks on the table.

“Thanks, Bucky. You’ll be my VP.”

Bucky grinned, sitting next to Holly. His arm settled on the back of her seat, his fingers brushing the ends of her curly hair.

The next few minutes was a game of musical chairs as everyone else came and went with their drinks of choice, Brady taking the seat next to Woody as soon as it was open.

Holly found herself leaning against Bucky as she drank, nursing her dark ‘n’ stormy with the intent of making it last until it was time to leave. He was the only person she felt comfortable enough to be in such close contact with besides Woody. He felt like sitting next to the radiator in her childhood bedroom, and she nearly nodded off after some time, Buck and Bucky in the middle of some conversation she couldn’t follow.

Curt returned to the table with what must have been his third or fourth beer of the night.

“Hey Bucky, some of these blokes are lookin’ to play darts,” he said, motioning behind him.

Bucky nodded. “Hope they’re ready to cover my tab.” He threw back his whiskey and gave Holly’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he got up. “C’mon, doll.”

Holly didn’t remember much of what happened between then and when she heard it. An entire chunk of time morphed into a hazy blur in her mind. Vaguely remembered cheering for Bucky and Curt. Then Curt called an RAF pilot an asshole, and a fight nearly broke out before fizzling down by the grace of god. Or maybe Buck stepped in. Bucky had something to her before his turn, an aside she laughed at, but couldn’t recall.

Different conversations around her jumbled with one another, stringing together in a cruel way only her own mind could conjure up for her. She heard him clear as day.

“Stan?” she whispered, her voice crazed with illogical hope.

Her heart raced. She looked frantically around the room for a sign—any sign of him.

But Stan was dead. There’d been a funeral with a body. His mother wept over the open casket. Her own mother had written as much. Sent her the funeral program which remained hidden among her belongings.

She kept the accompanying memorial card on her person at all times. A nice photo of Stan in uniform. His full name. Dates of birth and death. A bible verse and a little mention of his service in the Navy.

Stan was dead. Had been for over a year.

Her chest tightened, pulling like a rubber band about to snap. As the room closed in on her, she barrelled through the pub patrons, paying no mind to who was in her path, only that they were between her and a door.

The cool night air shocked her skin, but it wasn’t enough to snuff out the burning in her lungs. Panic overtook her brain. With a strangled shout, she curled her fist, unleashing months of unspoken grief directly onto the brick wall in front of her. Pain struck her hand like a bolt of lightning, but she could breathe again.

Her knuckles split open, bruises blossoming across her fingers in the darkness. “Fuck!” she shouted, both in pain and disbelief at herself. “Motherfuck–”

The alley door slammed open, chaos from the bar ringing in her ears as she looked wide-eyed at the person who interrupted her. A tense mortification swept over her body.

She’d been doing so well. Kept the self-destructive thoughts at bay. Used to chew on her bottom lip until it bled, the pain of broken skin and taste of copper strangely grounding when her mind wandered too far. Hadn’t done in it months. But she never exploded. Not quite like this.

Bucky stumbled forward, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Holly?” he asked, his gaze drifting down to her hand. “Jesus, what happened?”

Of course he would be the one to witness her breakdown. She wished it were Woody, but she sure as hell didn’t want to ruin her best friend’s night out with her boyfriend either.

Woody was used to it. Holly was always too embarrassed to go to a nurse, so Woody would sit her down and carefully apply petroleum jelly to Holly’s raw lips, eyebrows knit together in concerned concentration as her fingers brushed across the cracked, scabbed over skin. Didn’t care if she had been working for over twelve hours straight or was in the middle of something else.

But Bucky wasn’t Woody, and she never wanted him to see her like this.

Holly stared at him, trembling as he took a tentative step toward her. Tears welled up in her eyes. She frantically rubbed at them with her sleeve. She let out a shaky breath.

“Holly,” he repeated. “Are you alright?”

“I felt like I was going to explode in there so I came out here and…” She flexed her injured hand and winced. “I heard someone talking. He sounded just like Stan.” She swallowed a lump in her throat, feeling more pathetic as she explained herself. “I guess my wires got crossed.”

“Hey, it happens,” he tried assuring her. “You think you’re the only one?”

Holly shook her head. “Even when I got the letter last year, I still showed up and did what I had to do. Didn’t miss a day.” She was silent for a moment. “I don’t know why tonight was so different.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He took her bruised hand, whispering an apology when she hissed in pain. Examined it as best as he could in the cover of night. “At least not any more than you already have.”

“I punched a brick wall. I’m not gonna be able to type tomorrow,” she said, quickly adding, “I can’t go to a nurse. They’ll ask what happened, and I’d rather crawl in a hole somewhere.”

He shook his head. “C’mon, I’ll patch up that hand for you. It’s probably not even that bad.”

“Don’t cut your night short because of me.”

Briefly, almost enough to convince her it was just a trick of the moonlight, he looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “It’s the least I can do for making you come out tonight.”

“Bucky, you didn’t make me do anything. I don’t want to be some wilting flower who’s too afraid to keep living. Stan wouldn’t have wanted that for me. I just wish my brain would get the message.”

“Well, I’m sure Stan wouldn’t have wanted you to walk all the way back by yourself if you didn’t have to,” he said.

She smiled weakly. “Yeah, he’d chew me out for that.”

So would Bucky, if this had happened and he hadn’t found her. If she walked back to Thorpe Abbotts alone in the dead of night with nothing but the stars to keep her company. She never cared for them, especially not after Stan. They gave the night glistening teeth that tore her apart far too often for her to be comfortable beneath them.

“Hey, what about darts?” she asked, a good distance away from the pub.

“I pulled Crank in. He can hold his own. Besides, if there’s an angry bartender hunting me down on the base tomorrow, you could probably hold him off for me,” he joked, lightly elbowing her side. “You got one hell of a hook.”

“Stan taught me.”

“He taught you how to fight?”

“Sort of, but he was probably thinking more along the lines of self-defense instead of getting into fights with brick walls.”

“That wall had it coming. If you didn’t punch it, I probably would’ve.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Will you tell that to Chick so he doesn’t kill me tomorrow?”

“He’s not gonna kill you. Might be pissed that his best typist is gonna be out of commission for a few days, though.”

“I can still proofread. Or sort mail. Or—“

“Let me worry about that, alright?”

Holly hesitated. “Alright.”

—————

Bucky had the keys to the Air Exec office, empty for the night, and sat Holly down at her desk. He disappeared for a few minutes, but returned with an armful of peroxide bottles, absorbent cotton, and a roll of gauze.

“Geez Bucky, don’t waste all of that on me.”

“If I brought you to a nurse, they’d use it on you, anyway.”

He pulled up a chair, his knees touching hers as he took a closer look at her hand beneath a desk lamp. His eyebrows furrowed as he considered the dried blood, cuts that had already begun to scab over, and a particularly gnarly knuckle that didn’t sit quite right.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but one of your knuckles got dislocated. I’m gonna clean your hand and then pop it back into place.”

“Fuckin’ A,” she said. “I learned that from Stan, too.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“No. Neither did he.”

He snickered, grabbing the peroxide and some cotton. “What was Stan like, anyway? Sounds like an interesting guy from what you told me.”

“Stan was…” She paused. Nobody asked her about Stan. All anyone knew was what little she offered. What was he like? “He cursed like a—well, he was a sailor. Of course he was a Nationals fan. Loved detective novels. We’d have ones we’d read together and see who could figure out the big plot twist first. His front tooth was chipped, but god, he had the best smile. I’m talking serious wattage—“

“Wattage?” Bucky repeated incredulously.

“Okay, I made that up—think electric! He could light up a whole room with just his smile,” she emphasized with a smile of her own. “You know what I mean?”

He glanced up from her hand to her face for a moment. “Yeah, I do.”

“What else…we had this goofy thing going where we’d play tic-tac-toe in our letters to each other. I started doing that because I’m not great at writing letters. I never know what to say, but I wanted him to still look forward to getting them from me.”

“How’d you meet him?”

“I just started secretarial school when he got a job at this fish market up the street from my house. I remember thinking he was so handsome, he almost looked out of place,” Holly said, her voice soft for a moment. “Well, I’d spend so much time there that my mom would complain about how awful I smelled by the time I got home. I asked him out first.”

Bucky laughed. “You’re kidding.”

A wide grin spread across her face. “I wanted to make him mine before he could even think about another girl, so I went in one day and said, ‘When are you gonna take me to see a movie?’ Most guys wouldn’t have liked that, but Stan got a kick out of it. He’d tell the story to anyone who’d listen.” She paused. “I think what really scares me is that at some point, I’ll remember him for longer than I knew him, and I’m always gonna be…like this.”

“I’m gonna set your knuckle back in place now,” Bucky said, his voice low, almost contemplative.

Holly tensed, staring at the ceiling while Bucky pushed against her bruised knuckles. Bone clicked back into place. She groaned. Clenched her good hand into a fist, blinking away tears.

“Barely flinched,” he said. “You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for, doll.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Bucky.”

They were quiet as he finished bandaging her hand. The room was almost chatty though, buzzing overhead lights, ticking clock on the wall, a leaky pipe somewhere. Among them, a thought broke free from the confines of Bucky’s mind.

“Stan was lucky to have a girl like you waiting for him.”

Glassy brown eyes, wavering with the weight of the world, stared back at him in silence.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Holly. I shouldn’t have—”

She kissed him, her bandaged hand caressing his cheek. Weeks of silently longing, lusting, and wondering, answered in full as she moved her lips against his. Nearly forgot to kiss her back until he felt her pulling away.

He placed his hand over her bandaged one, still tenderly cupping his face. The gauze was rough against his skin, a contrast to the pads of her fingers. He curled his fingers around hers, her blunt nails lightly scraping against his cheek.

She gasped against his lips. “John.”

A shiver rolled down his spine as he brushed his thumb over the bandage he’d just finished wrapping, her knuckle that he set back in place for her. All for her. And she kissed him first.

‘I wanted to make him mine.’

Mine.

Her dulcet tone echoed in his head until he couldn’t think of anything but kissing her again, offering himself to her as the sole object of her affection.

Mineminemineminemine. “Holly, baby—” He was trying so hard to be coherent, nearly choking on his words until finally uttering, “I’m all yours.”

#bucky egan x oc #john egan x oc #bucky egan x ofc #john egan x ofc #masters of the air #bucky egan #john egan #masters of the air x oc #mota x oc #mota oc #masters of the air oc #ch: holly

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7ndipity · 9 months

Text

Run away

Jin x Reader

Summary: Just a little thing about you and Jin spending a lazy day together.

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! This was slightly inspired by the song Runaway(korean ver.) by Eric Nam, cause it's been stuck in my head all week.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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The sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, shining just enough in your face to stir you awake, making you groan into the pillows.

Fighting against consciousness, you felt a familiar weight pressing against your back as Jin rolled over, draping himself across you.

"Jagi? You awake?" He mumbled against your neck.

"No." You grumbled, burrowing further into the blankets.

"Then how are you talking to me?" He asked.

"I sleeptalk."

"Since when?" He chuckled.

"Since now." You said, trying to squirm away as he prodded your sides, but failing.

Days like this were you favorite, neither of you had work or any obligations, able to just do as you wished.

"What do you wanna do today?" He asked, after a minute, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"I don't care, I just want to be away from people." You responded. Life had been far too loud and hectic lately, all you wanted right now was to be still for a bit.

He started to roll away from you, making you pop your head up to look at him properly for the first time that morning, hair a mess and rumpled pajamas.

"Where're you going?" You asked, pouting at the sudden absence of his warmth.

"You said you wanted to be away from people." He said, but you gripped onto his shirt.

"I didn't mean you." You said. "You can stay."

"Oh, good!" He said, promptly falling back on top of you, making you squeal as he nearly crushed you beneath him.

"Jinnie! I can't breathe!" You laughed.

"Agh, breathing's overrated." He teased, wrapping himself around you and peppering kisses across your face.

"Ok fine! You win!" You whined, trying to catch you breath. "What do you want to do, then?"

"Mmm," he thought for a moment. "I want food."

You groaned. "Fine."

Reluctantly, you got up, trailing after him to the kitchen, before ultimately deciding that ordering takeout would be easier than cooking.

You piled up together on the couch, watching TV as you waited on the food to arrive. You'd nearly dozed off again against his shoulder, when he suddenly spoke.

"We should go to the beach." He said, shaking you out of your daze.

"Huh?"

"I mean, we can go the mountains, if you'd prefer, but I think the beach would be more fun." He rambled. "We could collect sea shells, go swimming-"

"I can't swim-" You interjected.

"-Go wading." He corrected, without missing a beat. "We could even rent one of those little camper vans, so we could stay right by the shore."

"Where's this coming from?" You asked.

"I was just thinking, if you need away from everyone, like you said this morning, maybe we could run away together, just for a little bit." He said softly, looking down at you.

"You'd run away with me?" You asked.

He nodded. "I'd do anything if made you happy."

"Anything?" You raised a brow at him, earning an eye roll in return.

"Anything within legal limitations, don't get carried away now." He clarified, making you giggle. "Go back to sleep."

"M'kay." You said, resting your head back against his chest. "Love you, Jinnie."

"Love you too, bub."

#seokjin fluff #seokjin scenarios #seokjin drabble #jin scenarios #jin fluff #jin drabble #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #seokjin blurbs #bts scenarios #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts requests #bts fluff #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts blurbs #7ndipity

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historianthesecond · 10 months

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hi!!!!! i was wondering if you could do a nikolai/reader fic that is similar to the rain scene (or, frankly, i'd be good with any scene) from the notebook:

the reader and nikolai had young summer love, then were separated for a long time, but both kept writing letters for years that were intercepted and never recieved. it all leads up to the angry/yearning argument in the rain where they say it still "isn't over" and some not-so safe for work activities follow.

again, just using the scene as a general guide but it doesn't have to be super similar. (hope that was at least somewhat cohesive and you know what I'm talking about. sorry for the rambling, i've just had this idea for so long and am super excited about it lol) tysm!!! <3

Hi! AAAAAAAA I'm so sorry I'm just answering this ask 😭😭 adult life sucks but anyway. I rewatched the movie now that you reminded me of that scene and yeah 1000% worthy it. I hope you like it! :D

I cut this fic in two parts, because the next one is going to be NSFW, so y'all can read the fluffly part without the filth 🥺👉👈 also because my smut scenes are so long for some reason, and it gets hard to edit 🤡

For All Those Memories We Tuck Away;

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader-----3K-----SFW

It had always been strange; like a thread that tugged down his heart every time he sensed your presence; familiar footsteps echoing in the hallways, chirping voices flowing through an open window as you walked toward the palace’s entrance.

Nikolai swept his gaze around the ballroom, catching a flash of your hair moving between a myriad of swirling bodies, your figure walking away from where he was talking with one Kerch merchant and his insisting wife that was trying to drag him toward one of their daughters, who was eagerly waiting for a dancing partner.

When he was younger, a childish part of him imagined that perhaps it was that both your hearts were linked by a thread, like the folktales about soulmates.

Now it would have been more of a coincidence.

He raised his empty glass of wine, playing with the delicate stem between his fingers. “If you’d excuse me,” Nikolai said once the merchant stopped talking to take a breath. “I’m afraid my feet are sore today; I wouldn’t wish to give a bad impression to your lovely daughter.” His hands gestured away toward the table filled with pastries and desserts. “I’ll go fetch another drink. In the meantime, please enjoy.”

Nikolai slipped between the crowd before someone could grab him back by the arm, his neck tilted upwards to scan the room, wishing to see another glimpse of you, or else, he’d thought it was a fantasy.

It wouldn’t have been the first time he imagined you, hoping to see you walking in the courtyard again, lounging in the garden, near the fountain, hands busy as you braid a flower crown. Bumping into you in a corner of the hallway, with your eyes lost in the flicking details of the sunlight reflecting in the decorations of the palace’s walls.

Just a painted reverie, hidden, ruined beneath layers of regrets and missteps overlayed over the decade that set you both apart. Grey and brown with the marks of ash and mud from the battlefield, streams of black ink dripping from crumbled paper’s edges, messy calligraphy from writing down on his knees. Streaks of green and blue of the open sea and the bright sky, the white of the paper replaced by maps and sails.

Nikolai forgot you, or so he pretended. Another distant memory of the past, from those fleeting moments when he felt happier, lighter as he bathed in the soft sound of your laugh.

He trailed down the path he saw you slipping into before, the longing sound of your giggle reverberating in a corner of the ballroom, frozen in all those occasions Nikolai had cracked a silly joke. Only that this time, he wasn’t the one amusing you.

His steps halted, jaw stiffened at the thought of him peeking out into the exit staircase only to see you chatting with another nobleman to which you'd surely be already engaged, if not married.

Curiosity will always take the best of him because he couldn't just walk away. For the first time in years, you were so close—only a door away, almost—but to him felt as if an unsurmountable abyss had opened in the marble floor.

His hand took the handle, turning it slightly. Cold wind blew in the hallway from the open entrance gates. He saw the rosewood hues of your skirt over the steps, your back mid-turned toward him as you waved goodbye to the Count’s only daughter.

Like a spring, your eyes settled on him before he could even conceal his staring.

Not like he could, of course, his eyes hoping to take you in every detail, as if that way Nikolai could engrave you, this new you, with your adult features, into his mind forever.

You looked away; the moment so fleeting that the Count’s daughter didn’t even notice. “Promise you’ll come to my tea party on Thursday?” she was saying, already crossing the entrance threshold.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you replied with a chuckle, steps elegantly descending the stairs when your friend left, your body disappearing from his view as you tried to put as much distance as possible.

Nikolai opened his mouth, but for the first time in so long, words just wouldn’t come out. He darted down the stairs as he did when he was a boy—good thing nobody was looking at this unroyal attitude—, his boots muffled by the carpet.

Saying your name brought a strange sensation in his mouth, like a prayer gone awry. It echoed in the stillness of the foyer; and he repeated it, louder this time. "Wait!"

From the direction toward the former Queen’s gardens, your silhouette flicked between the shadows and glinting gold from the dusk reflected in the canopy, your back still turned toward him, shoulders slightly hunched.

Nikolai breathed your name, voice so low he thought he imagined it, his hand hovering on empty air as if trying to reach you, to gather the courage and jump the evident rift that set you apart.

You looked from above your shoulder. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

He stood there, mid-hallway, hands clenched in a futile attempt to appear calm. "You came."

From the myriad of invitations sent, he didn’t even waste energy in imagining you would assist at the ball, not when you had missed his coronation ceremony months ago.

“Elena told me I can’t hide from the King of Rakva forever," you said, settling on the corner against the wall, the wind carrying away the essence of summer flowers in Plein bloom. "It brings a bad reputation upon our house."

Elena, your sister-in-law. Nikolai had heard of your mother's passing during times of the civil war, but up until that moment, he never remembered before to at least send his condolences, even if your mother was never a fan of his despite his endless charm.

Nikolai doubted his mother the Queen would have confessed to yours the real nature of his real relationship to the Lantsov bloodline, no matter how close the two seemed to be, but your mother had given you your sharp wit. It wouldn't be so far-fetched for her to have to guess it on her own.

He walked toward you, eyes gazing at your hands, bare fingers. You noticed, hiding them behind your back in a swift movement.

“Would you like to come with me on a walk through the garden?” Nikolai said, his arm extended toward you. “I would be honored to have your company.” After so long, he wished to say, but couldn’t. It could have sounded like a reproach, and he didn’t wish to bare laid that hurtful part of him that was convinced of your oblivion.

You met his gaze, observing his smile that tried to be charming only to notice the slight tremor on his lips.

“I can’t deny a request from Your Majesty,” you replied, stomach fluttering as if you hadn’t matured at all when you grazed your hand on his arm.

“Then I should have sent to your residence a marriage proposal instead of the invitation for a ball,” Nikolai found himself saying, the words escaping before he could think of the consequences. A result of the old times, he supposed.

You feigned a chuckle. “Your Majesty is very funny.” Like always, hung on the charged air between you two.

“I’m flattered. Though it has its downsides, as you can observe. People usually assume I’m joking.” He observed the way your footsteps guided you down the path, barely an afterthought as your graze hand poked the flowers in bloom, your brows slightly pinched in focus as if you were arranging flower decorations in your head. “When I’m not.”

You looked at him from the corner of your eye, lips in a neutral line. “Unless you’re still engaged to that gentleman... Mr. Komary?”

You gazed away, cheeks hot from embarrassment. It wasn’t a secret that the only reason you weren’t engaged ever since you were children was because of your mother and her terrible way with lies.

Instead of telling the former Queen that she wasn’t interested in marrying her only daughter to a possible bastard, she had told her that you were already promised to a kid in the Wandering Isle. Family so discreetly that nobody could get a hold of his existence.

“I’m just here because it would be good to make acquaintance with the future queen,” you replied, your tone very monotone, eyes drawn in a far part of the garden, on white walls covered with vines, violet flowers like trumpets contrasting vividly against the marble. “I would like to honor my mother’s place as lady-in-waiting.”

It shouldn't have hurt this much, thinking that Nikolai had assumed the same ever since years ago. But it did, like the ghost of his first shooting wound, right in the chest. Seemingly mortal, though not really.

The sky was getting darker, clouds hiding the last rays of sunlight as the cold wind blew between the bushes, whispering a clatter of remembrances of two happy children laying on the grass and of giggling teenagers running away from the guards, heading toward the lake with the tail of your dress half-smoked thanks to one of Nikolai’s new inventions.

“And what about us?” Nikolai said because he had learned to play all his cards, to seize every opportunity. “Have you considered it’s better not to keep our promise?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut in, your lips curved in a sour smile. “We were just kids back then. You can move on.”

“Have you move on?” he couldn’t stop himself from saying.

You didn’t answered, so he stopped in the middle of the cobblestone path despite the drizzle starting to soak into his jacket, your hand falling limp at your side. “I’ve always thought that kids’ love is the most unconditional kind.” His eyes warmed you from the cold rain starting to embed on your skin. “Don’t you think so?”

You felt a familiar knot in your throat, hoping that he couldn't see the red on the whites of your eyes.

“You forgot about me,” you said in a whisper, scared that if you talked too loud, your voice would break. “You never wrote to me—you can’t say that. You have no right!” you shouted, embarrassed for your outburst when in your mind everything was already settled.

Nikolai furrowed, his hair starting to stick to his forehead. “I wrote you for months—so much I got a bump on my finger.”

You huffed, arms crossed over your chest. “You’d always have that bump,” you replied. “You write too forcefully, that’s why you can’t draw.”

He copied your stance. “I draw my inventions’ blueprints quite masterfully, in case you don’t remember.”

You scrunched your nose like a bunny, and despite his irritation, Nikolai had the urge to lean in and kiss you, knowing that your pout would disappear. “I mean artistically. You could never draw me.”

Nikolai couldn’t stop the smile from escaping his lips. "Perhaps we should give it another try," he said, his hand touching your chin, his eyes drawn to yours. “Sitting in that big red velvet chair with uncomfortable rest, chin up to stop the crown from slipping out your pretty head.”

“My hands would get too clammy from holding the orb and the scepter," you said from memory. “The orb would fall from my hands, and I would get indebted to the royal family forever.”

“The King wouldn’t mind,” he assured you. “He has a soft spot for you, I’ve heard. Always have,” Nikolai muttered, crooning his neck down toward you.

He could feel the warmth of your skin, the sweet essence of your hair that had become more citric than floral, and the way your eyes traveled from his eyes to his lips.

“I wrote you about each dusk I could see without buildings covering the view, hoping that it wouldn’t be the last,” he said in a mutter despite the rain surrounding you. “About how I dreamt of you, imagining that you lulled me with that little song you liked to hum when you were bored—to keep the nightmares away. How the fields covered in dandelions and sunflowers remembered me of you." He chuckled a strained sound. "How can you believe I never write you? You've sieged my mind ever since I have memory of our first encounter. Everything calls back to you.”

He rummaged inside the inner pocket of his jacket, getting out a tiny, disheveled pony figure between his fingers. It had been once white with black hair, a blue saddle decorated with painted daisies. But time had worn it out, brown spots of the wood peeking between the paint.

The silly but sincere gift of a young girl. Your favorite miniature horse toy to accompany him on the battlefield, just as his gift would stay with you on those slow nights of study in the emptiness of your bedroom.

"How could I ever forget you when you're always near my heart?" Nikolai muttered, passing a thumb around your cheek, feeling the warmth of your tears against the pad of his finger. “How could I let you go when this isn’t over for me?”

You smiled, your trembling finger passing through the figurine. “That’s Pearl.” From between the pocket hidden in your skirts, you produced a wooden soldier with its broken rifle—from that time Nikolai toppled it off from his balcony.

“You still have my little friend,” he said in a whisper that was meant to be a chuckle, but now strained.

“I couldn’t throw him away,” you muttered, barely holding back a sob. “He would feel very lonely.”

A lonely soldier that had become a lonely king.

Nikolai enveloped you into his arms, pushing you against a wall to alleviate the force of the raindrops all over your soaked hair; lips hungrily seeking yours to try and make up for the time he had spent imagining how a kiss from you would feel if it would taste like wine and chocolate pastries you had been eaten at the party. You gasped into his mouth, and for a second, he thought you'd push him away.

But instead, your arms hung around his neck, and he started swaying you from side to side as you cried against his chest. “Saints… I missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry, Kolya,” you said, voice muffled against his soaked coat. “I should’ve tried harder. I shouldn’t have believed Mother about your lack of letters. I’m sorry.”

His laughter rumbled on his chest down your cheeks, which made you smile despite your teary eyes.

“We were both very foolish and young to know any better,” Nikolai drew circles on your back. “A clear sign that we’re a perfect match, don’t you agree?”

"I thought a King ought to be wise," you couldn't stop teasing him.

He nudged you closer. “That’s why I need a Queen like you at my side, my lovely.” Nikolai kissed you again, convinced he wouldn’t get tired of it. Because how could he? It was one of his dreams coming true. “What do you say? Should I duel Mr. Komary? I’m an outstanding swordsman. An excellent shot.”

You smiled, hands brushing away the locks that had started to cover his eyes. “Good to know you’re as humble as ever.”

Nikolai winked. “Just another one of my long list of qualities.”

“I don’t think my brother would say no to you if you propose,” you said between the rumble of thunder in the distance, refuged between his warm arms. “Hypothetically, Ally would love to have an excuse to visit your workshop.”

“Only hypothetically, of course. I would be delighted to show him around.” He smiled. “Is he still interested in terrestrial transportation? I'm sure I can convince you to look elsewhere, like up, maybe.”

“You’re more excited to see my brother,” you feigned an offended pout. “Perhaps you should marry him instead?”

Nikolai shook his head, stealing a kiss from your lips as he chuckled. “I couldn’t win a duel against Lady Elena. She’s a scary one.”

“And I’m not?” you said, trying to push him away when the cold of the wall stuck to the wet bodice of the dress.

“I’m sorry, my flower, but no.” He took one of your legs up, so you could tangle them around his waist, allowing him to dip his head lower and kiss you even more. “You’re like a bunny. My adorable bunny.”

“Bunnies bite,” you replied after your round of kisses was over, tiptoeing to nibble at his lower lip just for a moment.

He looked at you, eyes filled with both love and desire in the way they got framed by his lashes. “By all means, do it again,” he said, which made you laugh. One of his hands slipped on your bottom, and you yelped. “But not here. Hold still.”

Nikolai walked back to the rain, both hands holding you closer to his chest as your legs hugged his waist.

“What are you doing?!” you whispered against his ear, arms around his neck as you bounced up and down with each one of his strides, trying to ignore the heat pooling down your stomach at feeling his warmth body through the wet layers of fabric.

"I'm carrying my beautiful fiancé to my chambers to dry her off, of course." The rain echoed on the roof of the private wing of the Grand Palace, and you couldn't stop from burying your head in the crook of his neck at seeing the guards flanking every other entrance. “I wouldn’t like her to end with a cough that could delay our wedding.”

You felt your cheeks hot despite the sudden trembles traveling down your body. “To your chambers? That’s very inappropriate.”

Nikolai kissed your cheek. “I don’t hear you complaining,” he said with a clear note of amusement in his voice. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.” Another kiss, this one falling behind your ear. “I’ll make sure to warm you up whole, my lovely.”

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lantsov imagine #shadow and bone x you

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