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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 11 months

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The List (1)

Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Not Beta’d. I was going to conclude this with an actual ending, but it was getting long so I’ll let the readers decide how it ends. If enough people are interested, I might do a part 2. Comment if you want a part 2.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Rumors spread through the underground of New York like the plague. Four murders of New York's most elite in the past 72 hours. Floating around the city was a list of names, a hit list for anyone involved with the mafia. Bucky was no stranger to a threat on his life. Being a mob boss, he constantly walked a thin line, a trapeze artist always one slip away from falling into the hands of death. Bucky had the resources and power to not be taken out so easily. If his name was on the list, he’d be toward the end, but no one knew home long the list was or who was on it. His team had spent the past 3 days searching the city for any information on the list. He had to know who was on it.

“Mr. Barnes, sir,” Peter Parker stammered, catching his breath in the doorway. Peter was a prospect, a good kid with a good head on his shoulders. Bucky couldn't understand why such a gifted kid was so eager to join the mob. Regardless, Bucky couldn’t be happier to have such potential, but the kid picked the wrong time to join them. “We have a lead.”

Bucky’s head snapped up from his desk. He had been engrossed in his own research on his laptop that he had forgotten about his men’s quest. Peter’s spine went rigid under the mob boss’s intense stare. He had yet to get used to it. Peter was certain that was why Bucky’s right-hand man, Steve Rogers, had sent him to retrieve Bucky. Well, that or it was part of Sam Wilson’s attempt at a joke to haze the new guy. Either way, Peter had been a fan of Steve growing up. Steve usually was the face while Bucky worked in the shadows, which only made Bucky more intimidating to Peter. He respected Steve though which is why he found Bucky without hesitation.

“Follow me, sir.”

Standing abruptly, the chair Bucky had been sitting in crashed into the wall behind him with a loud bang. He smoothed his rough palms down the front of his pristine white shirt before straightening his black suit jacket. Without a word, he extended his hand behind Peter, encouraging him to lead the way.

Peter anxiously peered over his shoulder the entire way down the hall. He thought he might have been walking too fast, but Bucky’s pace never faltered. Bucky was hot on his heels, always one step behind him. Stopping unexpectedly outside of the boardroom, Bucky hissed nearly crashing into the teen. Before Bucky could reprimand him, Peter explained, “Before we go inside, Steve told me to give you a message.” Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a bit leaving Peter relieved his boss wasn’t going to chew him out. Still, his own dress shirt began to cling to him with the amount of sweat he was producing. Bucky may have relaxed a bit, but his posture was always disciplined, predatory, and intimidating.

“Spill it out,” Bucky huffed, his hands resting in the pockets of his slacks.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Peter nodded, “Right, um- He said don’t do anything stupid and that we need her.”

The jaw of the boss twitched before he stormed past a confused Peter. His hands pressed into each of the double doors using his full force to slam the doors wide open. All eyes snapped to Bucky as he strode into the room, confidence and determination oozing off of him. Peter ushered in behind him, awkwardly failing to close the doors several times before succeeding. A string of apologies escaped his lips as he stepped further into the room. The serious look Steve shot Peter had him clearing his throat and adjusting his dress coat.

Sam and Steve stood side by side on one end of the room, their arms crossed. They were cautious, guarded rightfully so. Any one of their lives could be on the line. For all they knew, everyone in the room was on the hit list. Spying the woman sitting at the middle of the conference table, Bucky stalked across from her. With his eyes trained on the floor, he dragged the chair away from the table but made no move to sit down as he stepped up to the table.

When his eyes met hers, he puffed out his chest. His arms remained at his sides, his hands burrowing in his pockets. Without so much as a greeting, Bucky began his interrogation, “Who created the hit list.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, a frown etched on her crimson-painted lips. “Right down to business, huh Buck?” A smirk replaced her frown. “I should’ve known, you never were one for much foreplay.”

Bucky pressed his tongue to his cheek. He had expected this, her teasing. It was always a dance between them, one he wanted to avoid by cutting to the chase. She always knew how to rile him up, in more ways than one.

“Princess-”

‘No,” she stopped him with her hand raised, “you don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Bucky snorted, leaning forward, “Isn’t that what you are now?”

“Who is she?” Peter attempted to whisper to Steve, but everyone heard him.

Taking pity on the clueless teen, Sam answered, “She’s Bucky’s ex-wife, Y/N.”

Ignoring the other men, Y/N flashed her diamond engagement ring at Bucky. The light reflected off of the ring making it impossible to miss even from where Steve, Sam, and Peter had been standing.

“That title is pending, followed by queen,” she sassed.

It started out as a term of endearment. Y/N always had a taste for the finer things in life, Bucky’s lifestyle satisfied that craving. He enjoyed spoiling his princess, but that was all she would be. A princess, someone no one would take seriously. It had been an ironic twist of fate that she had met an actual prince after her divorce from Bucky.

Examining the rock on her finger, her signature red nail had been replaced by a nude shade. She was no longer accepting his blood money; she had a good man and clean money now. His eyes traveled back to her face, zeroing in on her red-painted lip. Her hands may be clean now, but her lips were still tainted. The secrets she could talk about his business alone could ruin him which reminded him of why she was here in the first place.

“Who created the hit list, Y/N,” he tried once again to control the conversation.

Pursing her lips, she let him.

“I don’t know,” her gaze dropped to the table, “but I know who has it.”

Finally getting somewhere, Bucky reached back pulling the chair behind him. Once he was seated, he snapped his fingers. Not a moment later, a pen and paper were placed in front of him.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, pen in hand.

Y/N raised her head, the man twirled a pen between his fingers tempting her to sign a deal with the devil. Shaking the image from her head she placed her hand over his, ceasing his movements.

“It’s not that easy. He won't meet with just anyone.”

“He?” Steve asked.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Bucky isn’t just anyone,” Sam called out.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “He may very well be suspect number one. It would be bad for anyone to meet with Bucky alone.” Feeling Bucky’s hand turn beneath her own she went to pull away, but he grabbed her hand.

“What about a future queen?”

Eyeing him beneath her lashes, Y/N pulled her hand back to her chest. Noticing the hesitant look on her face, Bucky leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t a fool to think she was here willingly. She wanted something; she needed something.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Bucky asked, “What do you want?”

Thumbing the ring on her finger, she contemplated lying. She didn’t want to need Bucky, but she did. One look at Bucky and she knew he would see through any lie she would come up with, so she told the truth, “I need protection.” Suddenly she felt exposed with everyone's eyes on her. “If my name is on the list,” her voice shook. She wasn’t Bucky’s dirty little secret. People knew she was his wife, well ex-wife. She had ties to the mob and if her name was on the list or if her fiancé found out, the engagement would be called off.

After a long pause, Bucky spoke, “Get me access to the list and let me worry about the rest.”

Relief flooded Y/N. He could have turned her away. He could have blackmailed the information out of her, but he didn’t. Bucky was a rough man, but he was also kind. She had seen it first-hand for many years. Guilt ate away at her for her earlier actions. He knew she had been engaged but she didn’t need to rub it in his face. She wanted to hurt him but only because he had hurt her. A small part of her hoped he would protect her not because he was kind but because he still loved her.

Y/N was able to request a meeting with the man not even 24 hours later. His assistant had sent her an invitation, but it wasn’t for what she had been expecting. Instead, the man had invited her to a gala. He was a businessman after all, and her appearance would be good for business. At a time when she should be laying low, she was about to attend a high-press event.

It wasn’t long after Bucky was notified that he insisted he escort her. Y/N protested but he had argued that he couldn’t protect her if she was dead. That had convinced her, on one condition, they arrive separately. She was still engaged.

The event was beautiful but high glass windows had Y/N on edge. Anyone could see her. She tried to distract herself by searching for the host. There were so many bodies and no sign of the man who had invited her. In the middle of her search, a hand circled her wrist tugging her in the opposite direction. Y/N began clawing at the man’s wrist, an attempt to pry him off. When he stopped and spun around, she crashed into his chest. With her face in his chest, the unmistakable scent of expensive cologne hit her. She shoved his chest putting enough distance between the two.

“Bucky,” Y/N hissed, “you’re supposed to be laying low.”

Surveying the crowd, Bucky muttered, “I am. It’s you who is running all over the damn place.”

Y/N shook her head glaring at him. Not only did he smell good, but he looked good too. He had shaved since she had last seen him. He had traded in his white dress shirt for a black one, forgoing a bow or tie. The top button of his shirt was open, relieving his collarbone. Instead of drooling over her ex-husband she continued to glare at him. It was easier to hate him than to pine over him.

“If someone takes pictures of us together and my fiancé finds out-”

His cerulean eyes shot down to meet her eyes, “Where is he anyway? Shouldn’t you be asking him for protection? Surely, he has the resources.”

Y/N froze, her hands clutching the sides of her silk gown. “He doesn’t know,” she mumbled, then her voice grew. “He doesn’t know about the list, my past, or about you.” Bucky’s eyes softened. He had his doubts before, but he was certain now that she wasn’t happy. He wanted to gloat, to rub it in her fiancé’s face. He knew Y/N better than her fiancé did, and even better, she wanted to tell him. Bucky wanted to make a joke about how keeping secrets in a relationship was unhealthy, but he kept his mouth shut. Y/N sighed, running her hands down her dress to smooth out the wrinkles she had created. “He’s out of the country right now.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she wrapped her arms around herself. His gaze dropped to the floor, but Bucky’s remained on her.

He recognized a lonely soul when he saw one because he was one himself. His lifestyle left few people he could trust. He hadn’t always been lonely though, and neither had she. Bucky’s hand twitched to reach out and hug her, but he didn’t think she would appreciate that with cameras around. He took in her appearance and couldn’t help the squeeze he felt in his heart.

“You look beautiful.”

A giggle escaped her lips, “Thanks, Buck. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He had meant to cheer her up, but her giggle was unexpected. He missed it, he missed her. Everyone he knew in the mob lifestyle had died in the mob. It was poetic in a live by the sword, die by the sword type of way. No one got out, but she did. With his status, he’d never get out and a selfish part of him wanted to pull her right back in.

“You got out, you got away from the life,” Bucky hummed, admiration in his voice, respect.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I just got away from you.”

It was his turn to laugh, “Now if that were true, I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. I am standing here with you, not you are standing here with me. He meant it. Even if she was here because of him, he was here for her, to protect her. He put her first.

“You of all people know once you’re in there’s only one way out.”

That was it for Bucky. He wasn’t pulling her back in. She never left. They might have been divorced but they had both meant it on their wedding day when they said, “Till death do us part.” Bucky’s calloused hand cupped her jaw just below her ear, pausing. She didn’t push him away. With both hands, she cradled his jaw pulling his face down to meet hers. Their lips brushed one another, slowly at first, testing the waters. Then his other hand slid up the length of her neck, sliding back to tangle his fingers in her hair. It was a dance they were all too familiar with.

The flash of a camera penetrated Y/N’s eyes beneath her closed lids and it was like pouring a bucket of cold water over her. Quickly, she pulled away shoving Bucky’s chest when his lips tried to follow her. She was fucked, royally.

“Y/N?”

Wiping her smudged lipstick, she ignored Bucky’s lingering gaze before turning to face the new voice. A woman in a blue silk dress approached the pair.

“Virginia?” Y/N asked.

The woman waved her hand in the air. “Please, call me Pepper. We spoke on the phone yesterday. Mr. Stark is ready to meet with you. Follow me.”

Without looking back, Y/N followed Pepper through the crowd. She knew Bucky would be right behind her. She would deal with him later. Right now, she needed the names on the list. Upon their arrival, Pepper exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her. On the other side of a glass desk was one of the wealthiest men in the world, Tony Stark.

“Did I interrupt something?” Tony asked eyes darting between Y/N and Bucky. “I swear there wasn’t so much tension before you two walked in.”

Y/N sent him a tight-lipped smile holding up her left hand. “I’m engaged.”

Tony shrugged, “What you do is none of my business. Besides, something like this would be published on the front page.” Y/N’s stomach dropped. “You know what they say, all press is good press.”

“Says the man with a new woman every week,” Bucky grumbled.

Tony smiled. “Precisely, I would know.”

“Mr. Stark-”

Tony loosened the bow tie around his neck. “Call me Tony.”

“Tony,” Y/N corrected, “so you know anything about a list?”

With a raised eyebrow Tony laughed, “If it’s a list you want, I suggest you talk to Pepper. She handles all of that stuff.”

“Not just any kind of list,” Y/N took a step forward, her hands clasped in front of her, “a hit list.” From this distance, Y/N couldn't miss the way Tony’s eyes shifted to Bucky.

“Are you looking to assassinate anybody?”

Bucky held up his hands, “I’m just looking to protect the people I care about.”

Y/N stood still, watching the intense stare-off between the two.

Eventually, Tony sighed, “I don’t want to be in the middle of any of this.” He tapped a few keys on the computer on his desk before turning the screen. “You better get out of here before your fiancé sends someone.”

“What?” Y/N gasped, blindly clutching Bucky’s forearm beside her. Both of their names were written in green on the list. Beneath them were some of Bucky’s most trusted men; their names written in white.

Tony leaned back in his chair. “Green means active. You’re both next on the list and judging by the number of cameras here, someone probably already knows you’re here.”

“You knew,” Bucky growled.

Tony barely flinched. “Your names weren’t active until recently. Other people’s lives are on the line. I can’t get to everyone in time.”

“Wait, why would my fiancé send someone, he’s not even in the country,” Y/N asked, trying to wrap her head around everything.

Tony frowned. “Your fiance is the one who put the hit list out. What better alibi for your significant other’s death than being out of the country at her time of death.”

Y/N would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Why?” Y/N whispered wide-eyed.

Bucky wanted to drag her out of the building toward safety but was there even a safe place? People already knew their location.

Tony shrugged. “The New York mobs aren't the only mobs out there. They're all over the country, they're in other countries. There are some real higher-ups in the mafia in other countries. The mafia controls everything, it's one of the most powerful positions. Take out other mobs and you can control more area, more power.”

Y/N felt sick. When she said you never get out once you get in, she hadn’t realized how deep she was in life now. Turning to Bucky, he was already on his phone typing. “Bucky, we need to go.”

“No. I text Steve, he’s rounding everyone up. They’ll be here soon.”

Tony’s eyes widened, his eyebrows reaching his forehead. “You can’t be serious. There are cameras everywhere. This will be plastered on every news station.”

Bucky shrugged, lifting the back of Y/N’s hand to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, a quiet promise to protect her. “All press is good press.”

Next Chapter

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

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AITA for snapping at a friend?

Posting for an unbiased opinion. I have this friend (both M, both minors, same age) that I've known since we were babies. We've always been pretty close, and we've always been somewhat competitive, but not in a toxic way, really.

One thing we share is that we both LOVE animals. Neither of us had a pet when we were younger, but we've spent a lot of time talking about what we want and trying to convince our parents for pets, but they wanted us to grow and prove responsibility first.

Knowing this, you could see how exciting it was when a few months ago my Grandpa (who is a zoologist) took us both to get our first pets. It seems unrelated, but it's relevant to know that we both now have the experience and bond with them.

Early last week, I lost my rat. Vet says there was nothing I could have done different, it was an injury he couldn't heal from, but it's taken a toll on me. He wasn't even very old, and I've been feeling awful!

My little guy was buried in a little cemetery for pets, and I took him there on my own to bury (it was safe for me to go alone, don't worry!) and just kinda... sit. I needed to process this, I've never dealt with the death of a pet before. He wasn't my first to get, but my first to lose. While I was there, my friend showed up, and I snapped at him. All of his pets are fine, and I didn't even tell him I was going since I wanted some alone time, so it felt like he was there just to brag!

Over the last few weeks our competitiveness has gotten a bit more like a rivalry, I guess, and he's been able to "beat" me in everything! He's doing better at things I even started on first! Before we were about even, so this change had really gotten on my nerves.

Now, I honestly don't think I'm the asshole here, since I'm still dealing with the loss of my rat, but my Gramps says I need to apologize. Whatever. Smell ya later!

#aita #am i the asshole #fandom aita #unreality #pokemon #gary oak

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bookofbonbon · 5 months

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strut: to the hospital - coriolanus snow

Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Summary: Coriolanus is 'stuck' in hospital with you while the two of you await your uncle and aunt.

Word Count: 659.

A/N: There is no plot, rhyme or reason to this fic. I'm making it up as I go along and using this as a way to get back into writing. This is very self-indulgent and I am writing whatever comes to mind.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Coriolanus exhales loudly through his nose, eyes screwed shut as he pinches the bridge between his thumb and forefinger.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Self-control is an essential skill. Self-control is an essential skill…” he reminds himself, having re-adopted the six word mantra some three weeks ago.

The Grandma’am may not have been around so frequently as to help him practice it but, you? You had been more than making up for her absence since your arrival.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Did you know... Coryo, that talking to oneself may indicate an underlying madness?”

Coriolanus’s eyes snap open at the implication. Your voice nails on a chalkboard in his ears, the sound causing him an immediate headache that he didn’t need - although your presence alone was enough to do that - was it not enough that you had attempted to murder him? Now you insisted on taunting him with the name he reserved only for friends, family and those he loved - all things you were not but, anyone on the outside looking in would think you were.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Coriolanus turns his head mechanically toward you but you pay him no mind, too busy flicking through whatever book you were pretending to read - Forensic Firearm Examinations, he reads the title with a scoff. Now what would you be doing with a book like that? Were you trying to impress him? Did you even know how to read?

No matter, he saw through your little facade; he knew the truth, that you were out to get him and he would prove it in a little less than five minutes. In truth, he had no reason to still be gowned up and laying down in the hospital bed. Coriolanus, by all accounts had escaped your attempted murder unscathed and had in fact been medically cleared for discharge but, he pulled some strings and extended his stay so, that he could play up his false injuries to old Strabo and Ma Plinth when they arrived; so they could see for themselves the ruin their horrendous niece attempted to inflict upon him. Maybe then, they- more so, old Strabo would see that you did not belong in the Capitol and banish you back to where you came from. District Two.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Has no one taught you it’s rude to stare? And I thought you Capitol lot were supposedly provided with an elite-”

Without thought, Coriolanus hand comes down hard and fast with a resounding thwack! against the table.

He watches you intently, your head turning slowly away from your book and over to his hand that now rests atop yours, promptly ending your tapping and your sentence. There’s tension in your jaw as your gaze drags venomously from your joined hands to meet his eyes, your mask is slipping and in turn his mouth curves into a victorious grin but, not for long when your expression begins to match his.

“Self-control is an essential skill, Coriolanus,” you mock, turning his hand over with your own and touching the center of his palm lightly before standing up. “Seems you need a little bit more practice.”

The action is small but sends an oddly pleasant feeling through him, leaving him both speechless and mouth gaping, slightly forgetful of how to breathe until four figures appear at the end of the room.

Coriolanus immediately recognises them as old Strabo, Ma, Tigris and his treating doctor. Kicking himself back into action, his response is immediate as he slumps down into the bed, appearing worse than he actually felt.

"What happened?" Strabo calls from across the room, the question very clearly directed at you.

Coriolanus smothers the Cheshire smile that threatens to appear - how he would love to see you lie your way out of this.

"They didn't tell you?" you say instead, raising an eyebrow at the doctor. "I almost ran dear Coryo over while he was strutting about in the middle of the road."

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #tom blyth #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow

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sweetbans29 · 15 days

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Hey You - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x reader

Summary: You and Caitlin have a history - from growing up together to dating in high school. You both decided that it would be best to end things before going to college and that's what you did. Little did you know that seeing each other nearly four years later would have you both admitting things should have been different.

Warnings: You are looking at some angst, some suggestive themes and some fluff, nothing too crazy ;) mentions of head injury

Word Count: 6.0k

Hey You PART 2

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Hi and welcome! This is my first writing and would love any feedback or ideas! I hope you enjoy!

You were sitting in the backseat of your friend's car rubbing your hands on your jeans. Your friend Jamie was driving you and two other friends to the women's NCAA basketball game in Cleveland. All of you attended a university in Pittsburgh and thought it would be a fun girls' day to go watch the championship game. It was going to be iconic and deep down, you knew you wouldn't miss it for the world. You had been following the teams closely this year despite the squeeze to your heart that came with seeing her name. Looking out the window you continue to rub your hands on your pants.

Your friends all knew Iowa was home for you and that you played basketball growing up. They knew you had friends who ended up playing college ball but an injury you suffered junior year of high school caused you to shift gears when it came to college. They also knew that you and Caitlin Clark had played high school ball together - but that was all they knew on the subject. They didn't know you had grown up together and had been best friends since the first day of sixth grade or that she held your heart in high school and may or may not hold it today.

As you look out the window your mind begins to wander back to when you were young...

It was the first day of sixth grade and your family had just moved to Des Moines, IA for your dad's job. Starting at a new school at the start of junior high was not ideal but you were determined to make the best of it. As you entered homeroom - you took a seat next to another girl who wasn't completely dolled up due to it being the first day. You didn't say anything as you sat down and pulled out a notebook that was completely covered in NBA stickers. The girl next to you perked up when she looked over and saw several familiar faces, even some of her favorites.

She leans over and points to one of the players and says, "That is one of my favorites." I look up at her with a huge smile and reply, "He is great but not as great as Kobe." She nods in agreement and we continue talking about other players who made their spotlight on your Fivestar notebook.

Fast forward to freshman year of high school - you and Caitlin are at pre-season training. Both of you had a single goal in mind which was making varsity. You knew she would make it no problem, but for you, it was going to take a little more. The two of you put in the work, when you weren't at training you were either at a park practicing or at her house training. When you found out you both made varsity after all those hours of hard work you went out to get froyo to celebrate. The night ended with a sleepover at yours that included a movie marathon and many many snacks.

When you snap back to being present with your friends, you realize you are already at the arena. You take a deep breath and get out of the car with your friends to brave the lines to enter the stadium. It was amazing to see the attention women's college basketball has gotten during March Madness this year. The spotlight on all the teams in the Sweet Sixteen, then the Elite Eight to the Final Four all leading to today had brought a lot of attention to the sport and the players. Not only the spotlight on the teams but the spotlight put on Caitlin was something that never really surprised you as you knew how incredible she was and is. Seeing how much she had blown up made you proud of the player she had become but also rattled the box you had put her in that lived in the deepest part of your heart. As you are standing in line to get in, your mind takes you back again...

It was the summer before junior year and your mom and dad just surprised you with your own car. You freaked out and couldn't stop thanking them. Of course, it was their pleasure as you were almost the perfect child. Caitlin was already on her way over as you had plans to go out to get food before having a lazy day. The two of you always worked hard but on the other side of that, you both had major lazy days throughout your friendship. These lazy days consisted of movie marathons, pillow forts, naps, and all the snacks you could ever imagine. The beginning of these days stemmed from making plans one day but you were both so tired you ended up napping on the floor in Caitlin's living room, never seeing the light of day.

Caitlin pulls in and you come running out pointing at the car in the driveway. She jumps out of her car and you both freak out and jump right in. After grabbing food you headed back to yours and settled into the pillow fort you had set up before she got there. You throw on Princess Diaries and you both are knocked out within the first 20 minutes.

When you feel yourself come back to consciousness, you notice the only light in the room is coming from the TV screen. You also felt extremely hot. As you begin to move you feel a squeeze around your torso. Looking down, a smile appears on your face as you realize Caitlin is cuddled into your side and hugging you as if you were a teddy bear. Your arm is draped around her back as her head is nestled into your neck. Her breath is steady - inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It was slightly comedic as she has a solid few inches on you but when she was curled up into your side she looked like a little girl. You slowly start to rub her back and you hear her groan and bury herself deeper into you and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

This wasn't the first time that you both had ended up cuddling next to each other on a lazy day. It had become more common over the last few months than it had been before. You noticed it was typically Caitlin who ended up cuddled into your side but every blue moon you ended up in her arms. Once one of you woke up, you would usually break apart almost immediately - secretly both wishing it would last longer. It all felt so natural that neither of you questioned it. Due to how dedicated you both were to your sport neither of you really had time for boys or relationships so you both just leaned into each other.

You continue to rub her back until you feel her fingers play with the backside of your shirt - this is your signal that she is no longer asleep. Neither of you made a move to untangle yourselves from the other and that was when you knew that the feelings you were pushing down for your best friend might be reciprocated and that alone was enough to hold her even tighter.

Later that night you took your new car and went to get ice cream. You both sat there for hours talking and laughing. That night held your first kiss with Caitlin. It was in the parking lot of your local grocery store, a pint of ice cream in the center console. It was nothing crazy but as you drove back home with her hand in your hand, neither of you could wipe the smile off of your face.

You are brought back to reality when your friend nudged you for the tickets as you were next to get them scanned. While you didn't have to worry about the drive, you were tasked with getting the tickets. Grabbing your phone, you open up your tickets for the guy to scan. As you all pass through security at Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse, you make your way to your seats before braving the sea of spectators to grab yourself some food and a drink (there was no way you were getting through this whole event without a drink by your side).

The usher directed you to where your seats were and you were insanely grateful that you were the one to choose where you all sat. You choose the same section you always supported Caitlin in your senior year of high school...

It was the championship game junior year of high school and you were in the starting lineup. The game was going to be a tough one but you had no doubt in your mind that it wasn't yours for the taking. Everything was perfect. You were already talking to a couple schools to play in college. Caitlin and you had been dating for a few months and you were going to ask her to be your girlfriend your next lazy day which so happened to be tomorrow. Everything seemed it was going your way.

The seconds were counting down in the second quarter and the score was 38-38. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you were not going into halftime tied. You were passed the ball as the seconds ticked away. The other team had just scored, which gave your team possession with just enough time to make something happen. As you made your way down the court you scoped out the scene in front of you. The other team was doing everything in their power to avoid yours from scoring.

Your first vision played out was getting the ball to Caitlin, knowing she could make it happen but the girl defending her was doing a damn good job of keeping her just out of reach. You then scanned to my other teammate Jada who you knew was great at getting the ball where it needed to go in the nick of time. As you were about to pass it her way you took one final look at the clock and realized that time was just about out. You made the decision to take it up the middle, faking the defender that was covering you and going for a quick layup on the left side. As your last foot left the ground, before you knew it you were back against the ground with a pulsing head and pain shooting everywhere.

You don't dare move, you have no idea what just happened. There is a ringing in both of your ears and your vision is blurry and the pain - the pain has your body shutting down to protect itself. Your eyes start to close slowly as you faintly feel someone grab your arm as someone appears in your sight. It takes you a second to realize it is Caitlin - you give a small smile. Then everything goes black.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. That is the first thing you hear as you start to regain consciousness. Confusion hits almost immediately as the last thing you remember is getting ready to play the championship game. You begin to wiggle your fingers and they feel sore, now that you start to feel more - everything is sore.

Before you decide to open your eyes you try to take a deep breath. Yet another thing that is painful to do. You decide you need to open your eyes to figure out where you are and what has happened. As your eyes open, it takes a few blinks to get a clear picture of what is in front of you. You are in the hospital, in a hospital bed. The sun is shining in through the window and you start to look around to see if you can find any clues as to what has happened. There are no casts or bandages that you can see but when you make a minor move in the bed it felt like you got hit by a truck.

Your mom was in the room reading a book. When you began to move, you let out a groan which caused her to look up and quickly make her way to your side. As she gets to your bedside, your dad makes his way through the doorway.

"Baby girl, oh baby girl," your mom begins as she gives you a hug which really only causes more pain to shoot around your body but you weren't going to push her away. Your dad comes and sits on your other side and takes hold of your hand.

"Hi sweetie," your dad says. You look up at him and with your eyes try and get him to explain what had happened, knowing your mom wasn't in a state to do so.

"You were taken out seconds before the halftime buzzer went off," he began. Your eyes lay intently on him. He takes a moment before continuing. "You were going for a layup to put your team ahead going into halftime and a girl from the other team misjudged your movement and body slammed you causing you to go head-first into the ground."

It then all started coming back to you, the pain that shot straight to your head and trying to not pass out. You let go of his hand and start to feel around your head. It had a wrap around it which you didn't even think about when you were making your first assessment of what had happened. Your dad continued.

"You were rushed to the hospital due to your ears bleeding and you not waking up. The doctors determined you had a skull fracture and took you to an emergency surgery. Everything went smoothly and you are recovering well," your father says with sad eyes. If there is anything you know about your dad it is that he shares your dream of going to a D1 school to play basketball in college. The way he was looking at you right now, you immediately knew that even though the surgery went well, everything you had hoped and dreamed about was all about to change.

You continued to listen to how your parents were so happy you were alive and okay and that you should make a full recovery - even though you knew deep down that it truly wouldn't be full. You had learned that it has been almost 2 days since the game. Your parents step out of the room to give you some time to rest - even though you couldn't look at a screen that just left you sitting there with life-changing news. You looked around to see if you could find your phone to text or call Caitlin when she made her way through the door.

She looks just as beat up as you feel. As she walks up to you, she avoids eye contact which you so desperately wanted. Without saying a word, she comes up to your bedside and slowly makes her way into the hospital bed with you. You lift your arm and allow her to curl up by your side. A deep breath finally escapes your body and as you exhale you can feel her body release silent sobs.

All you can do is rub her back. Lying there with her has jogged your memory that she was the last face you saw before you blacked out on the court. Knowing her, these past two days were probably a living hell. You muster up all the strength you have to lean down and kiss the top of her head.

Not many people knew about your relationship. It was really only family and your coaches. Being on the same team, you both decided it would be best to keep your relationship between the two of you. It was a challenge at times but everyone knew the two of you were best friends so there were a lot of things that you did that people wouldn't look twice at.

One thing about Caitlin was that certain things were enhanced when you two started dating. Most of the things didn't affect your day-to-day like the amount of sweatshirts she stole doubled (which didn't bother you as you would just steal hers to replace the ones she had taken, it got to the point where it started a playful argument over a sweatshirt that she swore was here but was actually originally yours). Another that affected her more than either of us really realized was how protective she had become.

You first realized this when you got fouled at practice and Caitlin got all up into her space yelling at her. You had to grab her and pull her away which then led your coach to call for everyone to do suicide sprints. You don't even want to think about the girl who fouled you in the game and caused you to be hospitalized.

"Hey you," you say as it had sort of become your way of saying 'hey babe' without the world knowing. You feel her shift in your arms as she brings her hand up to wipe away her tears.

"You scared me," is all she says before letting out a few more silent sobs. You continue to rub her back and give her shoulder a little squeeze.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," you respond with a laugh. The laugh hurts but decide to keep quite about your pain, only quiet to Caitlin, never your doctors.

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled up on the hospital bed. When the sun starts to go down you tell Caitlin she should head home to get some rest. She protests, of course, but ultimately folds to your request. She comes over and gives you a quick pack which leaves you unsatisfied. You grab her hand and pull her back to give her a proper kiss. As your lips part you mumble a breathy 'I love you'. It was the first time it had been said between the two of you in a manner that wasn't referring to your friendship. The smile that spread across her face lifted your soul.

"I love you," she replies as she leans down pressing her lips against yours. "Well not I REALLY don't want to go," she says with a laugh.

"One night won't hurt anyone - also you need a shower," you say making a face to try and sell the fact that you just called your girlfriend smelly. She scoffs and waves you off.

Following getting out of the hospital, it was a hard reality to face that you weren't going to be able to play ball for a long while. The journey ahead was a long one and you couldn't be more thankful that Caitlin was right by your side.

Two of your friends were coming back with beers when you snapped back to where you were. It was just about time for the athletes to come out and begin their warm-ups. Your heart began to race as you heard the announcer call the teams out.

As both teams make their way onto the floor, your eyes scan for her. As much as you didn't want to, you couldn't help yourself. It took about a whole 5 seconds to find her. Your heart stops and it feels like time slows as you see her running out and making her way to warm up. The first thing you notice is how even after four years, she starts warming up from the same spot. She is on the opposite side of the court facing where you are sitting getting ready to start her pregame ritual. You then notice, how her upper body has filled out a little more as she has matured and increased her strength training. Her hair is in a neatly pulled-back pony with a headband to catch her flyaways. She was as cool as a cucumber.

There were so many things that amazed you about Caitlin but one of the biggest ones was how calm she was before a game. Especially a game like today.

She was completely mesmerizing. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that she was living her dream. You watched her as she continued to warm up and couldn't wait to cheer her on.

The seats you had chosen were right across from Iowa's bench. every game you watched your senior year of high school was from this exact location.

As the warm-ups come to an end and they are just about to announce the starting lineup, your heartbeat begins to quicken...

Going into senior year, your relationship with Caitlin was better than ever. It was a tough journey to come to face the fact that you weren't going to play ball your senior year but you put all that extra energy into loving and supporting Caitlin. You still went to practice and your coach sort of brought you on as an assistant coach. It was great still being a part of the team.

You decided to play the role of the supportive girlfriend during games rather than sitting on the bench with the other players and coaches. It wasn't that you couldn't sit on the bench, rather it came from knowing how competitive Caitlin gets. She didn't need another person telling her how things could have been different or better, she needed someone who was going to cheer her on no matter what and get her out of her head when she got tunnel vision. She was the hardest person on herself.

Before every game when they called her name in the lineup as starting point guard and she made her way down the line of girls she got to the end and pointed to you with a smile. Then at the end of every game, you would wait down the hall of the girls' locker room and greet her when the team got out of their post-game meeting. It became your guys' things.

You weren't expecting it. It didn't even occur to you but when they announce her name and she makes her way down the court and at the end of the line she points directly in your direction and smiles. Your heart stops and she stops in her tracks, her smile dropping immediately. She does a double-take and just stares at you for a second. A small smile starts to creep onto your face and her eyes are on yours. You give her a little nod and she finally breaks away shaking her head with a smile growing on her face. She joins her team for their first huddle of the game.

Your heart feels like it is beating out of its chest. You had imagined it a thousand times since your friends mentioned wanting to go to the championship game. It was the reason you chose these seats. Even in all of the fantasizing about seeing her - you didn't imagine it to actually happen. There were thousands of people in this arena and her eyes found yours.

As the team is in their huddle, she stands up and looks back over at you. A smile now playing on her lips in full view as she can't stop glancing over to the familiar spot.

You want to go down to her and tell her to focus on her coach. Her head needs to be in this game and not turning to look up at you. Although the frequency of her looks brings butterflies to your stomach with every glance.

Once they break, the game begins and you can see Caitlin lock into the game. You cheer with all the other fans as the final game of her college career is underway.

The game is a complete nail-biter. There were times when Caitlin absolutely was killing the game, shooting her signature threes and playmaking. At other times, she let the ball slip and you knew that she would hold onto that but never let anyone see how much it truly affected her. She was really good at shaking off her mistakes in the eyes of others but you knew her too well.

As the game begins to come to an end and you can see the victory slip away from Iowa, your eyes focus on your girl. She is staying composed but you know she is feeling it. In the final minute of the game, Caitlin makes her way to the bench, hugging each one of her coaches then takes a seat with a blank stare.

Your eyes try to stay away from her but she naturally draws your attention. In the final seconds of the game, as South Carolina begins to celebrate Caitlin's eyes make their way to yours. You only hold them for a second but that was all you needed to know she was hurting.

The game ends and you see the team head into the locker rooms. Your friends decide to head to the floor to see if they can talk to any of the players (more like the player's brothers), You use this time to sneak away and try to find the Iowa locker room. You know there is no way they would let you in but you start sweet-talking the security guard. In less than 2 minutes, you were pacing in the same spot you would always wait for Caitlin after a game. As you wait for her, your nerves pick up as your mind continues to take you down memory lane...

You and Caitlin had just graduated high school and you were celebrating in your favorite fashion, with her curled up in your side. The plans the two of you had for the summer were laid out on the floor next to you. It was going to be the best summer and indeed it was until it wasn't.

It was a few days before Caitlin needed to head off for off-season training at the University of Iowa. You were hanging out at her house in her gym. You both had been avoiding the elephant in the room.

It was a conversation you both knew you needed but didn't want to have. You knew that Caitlin's only commitment was to play D1 ball which was once your dream too. You also know to do that, she couldn't have anything holding her back.

The two of you finish some conditioning which leaves you both panting and sitting on the floor.

"As much as I love you, I hate doing cardio," you say in between breaths.

"Ya well, my favorite form of cardio involves a lot less running and a lot more of you..." she says with a smile. "Caitlin!" You gasp and push her over as she bursts out laughing.

You let out a few laughs yourself but then hear her quiet down. Looking over at her, you see her whole mood shifts. She comes in and hugs your torso, burying her face in you. You scoot closer to hold her, knowing what is about to come next. It feels like hours pass before you decide to speak.

"Caitlin, you know I love you. And I want the world for you. You are and will always be my best friend," you say rubbing her back. She squeezes you even more. "We both know where your head needs to be when you head to training. You will always be my person but in this next season you need to be your teams' person."

Silence fills the space again. Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you swallow the sobs that taunt your lips. Then she finally speaks.

"You are my person," she says just above a whisper, you almost miss it.

"This doesn't mean I will stop being your person. Like I said, I will always be your person. We both knew this was coming and we have done a really good job of putting it off," you try to lighten the mood. She doesn't budge.

She lets go of you and sits up. You wipe away her tears. They just keep falling.

"I just don't like the idea of losing you," she says as she starts playing with a piece of your hair. "You aren't losing me, babe," you reply but both of you knew that wasn't true.

"This was always the plan," you start. "And I will always be cheering you on," you say with the best smile you could muster. No matter how much it would hurt you would support her until your last breath.

"So that means you will be at the championship game when I take Iowa to the NCAA championship?" her question lightening the mood.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," you say as you give her one last kiss.

You are pulled back to reality when you hear some of the players head out. Caitlin was typically the last one out of the lockers and with the way you knew she was feeling it was going to be a minute.

It is about another 15 minutes of you pacing in the hallway for the door to open again. Your head whips around to see her coming out. She looks completely defeated. She would never show this side of her to the press.

As you turn to face her, she looks up. You say the only thing that felt right.

"Hey, you."

She immediately makes her way to you. Your arms wrap around her as her head buries its way into your neck. Despite her being taller, Caitlin loved to be held as if she was the shorter one. Your heels were definitely helping.

"I really wanted that," she mumbles into you after a few moments. You rub her back like you always used to. "I know...I know."

"Your legacy is so much more than that one game and I am so beyond proud of everything you have accomplished," you begin. "And with that, I know this was one of your dreams." Caitlin stays quiet and sinks into being held by you.

The two of you finally break apart, her hand doesn't leave your arm and you can't complain. You missed her touch so much. You missed her. She keeps rubbing your arm and you feel like you will melt.

"I have to head into a press meeting, but can we catch up later? Are you staying in town?" Caitlin asks.

"I came into town with some friends, we are staying at a hotel a few blocks away. Call me when you are done with press?" You reply hopeful.

"I'll call you the second I am out," she ways with a smile. Oh how you missed that smile.

You head back to the hotel you are staying at to change into something a little more casual. Your friends checked in and told you they were going out to a bar and wanted you to meet up with them. You let them know you were catching up with an old friend and that they shouldn't wait up for you. You get ready to meet up with Caitlin - changing your shirt and shoes into something more comfortable, keeping the jeans you wore to the game. Right after you finish changing your phone begins to ring.

"Hey you," you answer as you begin to gather a few things in your purse.

"Hey babe," Caitlin responds causing your cheeks to blush and your stomach to fly. A smile is plastered on your face. "I am out of press and am going to head to my hotel, would you be up for meeting me there?"

"Of course, just shoot over the address and I will head that way," you say as your phone pings. She was already sending it as you asked.

"I will see you in a few," she says before you both hang up.

You make your way to her hotel which is surprisingly only a 10-minute walk. You follow her directions on how to get up to her room and knock on the door. The nerves begin to build up and you feel like you are back in high school. Your hands make their way to rub against your jeans, a familiar place for them today.

Caitlin opens the door with a huge smile on her face as she moves away to let you in. "I thought it would be better to meet here, a little more privacy," she says as she closes the door.

The two of you spend the next 4 hours catching up on life and how college has been. She talks about all the records she has broken and how she can finally start looking at what comes after college ball. She talks about her family and how much they miss you. You follow her by also mentioning how your parents are so proud of her and miss her as well. You continue by talking about how you are going full-time with the company you are working for post-graduation. You talk about all the traveling you have been able to do and she gets to pitch in with the travels that she has done. It was like no time as passed, I mean above all you were best friends.

As the conversation begins to die down you realize how close the two of you became. You are sitting on a couch with your legs hanging over her lap and her hands on your knee.

A sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes and take in the moment. You feel her hand begin to make its way to your thigh.

"Seeing you in the crowd today was something else," Caitlin begins. You cut her off, "Well I made a promise once to be there if a certain someone that if they made it to the championship, I would be there."

"If???" Caitlin yells with a fake offended tone and slaps your knee. You let out a little yelp, "Okay, okay, when." Your eyes roll as she starts to draw patterns on your leg.

After another long pause, Caitlin speaks again.

"I think we made a mistake," she says not daring to look you in the eye.

If you were going to be honest, you never wanted to end things when you went to college but you weren't going to make things harder than they had to be. Long distance wouldn't have worked for the two of you. You would have managed but with her schedule and yours, it would have done more damage than good. So you didn't fight her but there were numerous times that you wish would would have fought for her on ending things.

"I think I made a mistake," she continues as she finally looks up at you. You take her hands in yours and reply, "It was the right decision at the time. We didn't know better, we were young."

You continue. "But that was then and here we are now," touching her arm and giving it a little squeeze. After seeing her and how she has filled out, you have been waiting to get your hands on her arms. "And we are both about to graduate and my plan was to come back to Iowa..."

"There is no one like you," she says as she leans closer to you. You let out a little laugh.

"No Caitlin, there is no one like you," you say as your hand comes up to cup her face. You both smile as your lips meet. It is like no time has passed, her lips are still so familiar.

After a few more kisses, you both moved to the bed. She curled up into your side and your arms made their around her. You are her home and she is yours.

"I love you," you whispered as you kissed her head.

"And I love you," she responds as you both drift to sleep, more at peace than either of you have felt over the past four years.

AN: TADA! Let me know your thoughts! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

Now go check out PART 2!

#caitlin clark #cc #caitlin clark x reader #iowa hawkeyes #caitlin clark imagine #iowa wbb

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mickules · 2 years

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CONTINUE ►NEW GAME OPTIONS

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All credit to the delightful Submas Bros who got me back on this train (ha) with some much needed motivation, so here we go again;

Pokémon Super DanganRonpa 2 Good Bye Despair; this time it's personal.

Hajime: There's something about small unassuming Eevee with all that potential inside 'em which they just can't access on their own. Also there's been a fair few storylines with an Eevee trainer being bullied by a bunch of Eeveelution trainers for not evolving . . . Nagito: I know Absol is a fave to give him but regardless of the fact I gave Absol to Kyoko, I wasn't quite feelin' it. Hear me out here: Diancie. One a kind mythical pokemon, crystalised- not evolved- from a Carbink, insanely valuable, with very good mega evolution stats, equal to Makoto's Tyranitar, all of which Nagito would brush off depreciating that he couldn't even catch a 'normal Carbink' And on a meta level; may be based on the HOPE Diamond (given one of the Diancie event's was named 'Hope Diancie') a gem that's reputed to curse the holder with ill luck. Mikan: Hubris has caught me since I gave Hifumi a Blissey, but Audino is another nurse Joy staple and has the hidden ability 'Klutz' Chiaki: what self respecting gamer wouldn't jump at the chance to have an 8-bit pokemon? Ibuki: Electric Guitar pokemon? Low key Toxtricity even matches her colour pallet Kazuichi: Isn't sentient gear box Klinklang a mechanic nerd's dream? Sonia I'm sure every other pokemon she has is a terrifying ghost type; but nothing quite says 'princess' like a Galarian Rapidash Gundham: "Cower before the 4 Dark Dedennes of Destruction!" (also the Ultimate breeder would have shinies out the wazoo) Teruteru: A Rotom controlled oven is perfect for all his cooking needs, with none of the morality questions about FarFetch'd and it's leek. Twogami: So I may have played myself giving Togami a shiny factory Ditto; but who's a better companion to the lonely imposter with no identity of their own than insecure mimikyu who copies beloved pokemon to seek acceptance? Kindred spirits Akane: Both Gluttonous and Athletic? Greedent is a good match for that Nekomaru: it's like looking in a mirror, Machamp is a classic. Hiyoko: The Ultimate traditional dancer gets a Sensu style traditional dancing Oricorio. Call the presses. Mahiru: I'd admit this was a headscratcher since the most famous pokemon photographer DOESN'T HAVE ANY POKEMON; so for your consideration, Chinchou. Lures out shy pokemon for that perfect poke-snap, plus can be an impromptu flash in low visibility Fuyuhiko: Honchkrow the mafia boss pokemon is a no brainer, but more than that the villain groups are basically the pokemon yakuza; so that would make Fuyuhiko the ultimate. . Evil Team Boss? Not a great ring to it, but he's definitely the boss of this generation's Team Rocket Peko: A Honedge for the Ultimate Swordswoman, and the Jessie to Fuyuhiko's James. (I couldn't bring myself to call her simply a Team Kuzuryu Grunt) Izuru: Nothing outside of Type Null, the artificial pokemon created by combining all the greatest strengths and type advantages of all pokemon would be good enough for the artificial being known as Izuru Kamakura created by combining all known talent within one person. . . If this lad stepped out after you defeated the Elite Four. . . Imagine the Despair. . .

A coupla extras for you since I was in the zone

Genocider Syo: Taking Toko's love of bug pokemon and slapping some blades onto 'em? match made in heaven for a Poke-serial killer Ishida: "Chandeleur? What're ya talkin' about? That's just my bro backing me up! 'sides don't Chandeleurs hypnotise folks to see what they wanna see? I ain't dumb enough to fall for that baloney! Ain't that right Kyoudai?!"

Once again this was a blast! Maybe I've got one more in me . . .

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sitp-recs · 8 days

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hi liv! do you know of any draco-centered longish fics??? thanks! i just love him so much

Hi anon, definitely! Here are my favourites:

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight (T, 59k)

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit.

The Trouble with Wanting by waldorph (E, 60k)

Draco Malfoy is cleared of all charges; this is what happens next.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

There Is Always the Moon by @firethesound (T, 159k)

Draco's life after the war is everything he wanted it to be: it's simple, and quiet, and predictable, and safe. But when a mysterious curse shatters the peace he'd worked so hard to build, there's only one person he can trust to help him. After all, Harry Potter has saved his life before. Now Draco has to believe that Potter will be able to do it one more time.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #long Draco-centered fics

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missmatchablossom · 3 months

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The Champion's Babysitter

Pokemon x JJK AU

summary: you are the newest dragon-type gym leader, and you've just been tasked with babysitting the pokemon champion gojo satoru, who has not been taking his job seriously.

a.n.: fem reader, a couple of curse words, kinda slow burn romance, fluffy, cute pokemon interactions, 6.8k words. shoutout @silkspunweb for putting this AU in my head <3

“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? I’m afraid I’m not following,” you asked, nerves overwhelming your senses as you stood before the four toughest pokemon trainers in the region: the Elite Four.

It was impossible not to be in awe of some of the world’s most renowned fighters. How could you just stand there, not shitting your pants, when you spent so many hours watching footage of their pokemon battles? You had the utmost respect for the four figures sitting before you.

Nanami Kento, the Steel-Type master

Okkotsu Yuta, the Dark-Type expert

Fushiguro Toji, the Poison-Type wielder

Iori Utahime, the Ice-Type genius

It was an honor to be granted a private audience with them upon their request. But your reverence was halted once Nanami began delivering the news to you.

“We are asking that you oversee the business of Gojo,” he said, looking you squarely in the eyes as he adjusted his glasses.

“Gojo, as in Gojo Satoru? Our current pokemon champion?” you asked incredulously, eyes flickering between the four people before you, desperate for clarification.

“The very same one,” Yuta answered, smiling at you sympathetically.

“What do you mean by oversee?” you continued, turning towards Utahime.

“As I’m sure you’ve already heard on the news, Champion Gojo has been neglecting his post as of late. Recent challengers have been showing up to battles to find him missing,” she responded, brows furrowing in distaste. The Frosslass at her side nodded her assent.

It was true, it’s been all over TV lately. The celebrated, undefeated champion has been ghosting any challengers. The footage that you see of him nowadays is of him lounging around at different cafes, snapping pictures of the sweets he’s indulging in.

Pathetic, you thought.

“His hedonism is causing a lot of uproar. It’s a huge pain in the ass,” Nanami added, as the others murmured in agreement.

“We’d like you to check in with him now and then…encourage him to take his position more seriously,” Yuta said, the gaze of his dusclops behind him unsettling you.

You blinked a few times.

“Why me?” you asked. The four exchanged loaded glances you struggled to decipher. You could’ve sworn that Yuta’s smile felt more mischievous than usual, like he knew something you didn’t.

“You’re one of the most promising young trainers we’ve seen in a long time. The gym leaders you’ve battled and your fellow peers have vouched for you as someone of great integrity, valor, and talent. We’ve seen it ourselves.” Utahime said, causing your chest to swell with pride.

“The decision to make you the newest Dragon-type gym leader was unanimous. We hope you don’t take that lightly,” Nanami revealed.

“Thank you, it means a lot to me,” you said. You’d worked hard your entire life to become a gym leader worthy of the Dragon-type pokemon you hold near and dear to your heart. But they were still dancing around why they wanted you to do anything with the champion.

“Forgive me for asking, but what can I do that the rest of you cannot?” you pressed, ignoring the bored yawn from Toji.

“Gojo won’t listen to us. But we believe he will at least find interest in a fellow Dragon-type specialist, especially one as strong as you,” Yuta responded.

It was common knowledge that while our champion could wield any type of pokemon, he favored Dragon-types. Not many could say the same, as most trainers found it difficult to work with the stubborn, overpowering nature that is Dragon-type pokemon.

Toji’s heavy sigh filled the room, the weedle around his shoulders tilting its head at you.

“Look kid, we’re asking you to be his babysitter. Follow him around, challenge him to battles, do whatever you need to get his ass back to work so he can stop being a pain in ours.” Toji stated gruffly, crossing his arms and leveling you with a look.

Nanami fired a look of quiet distaste in his direction, focusing back on you.

“My apologies for his tactlessness, but he’s not wrong. We know it’s a big task, but you’re the only one we can ask,” Nanami said, his Lucario nodding its head.

“You might even learn something from him. Few people can say they got to train with Champion Gojo,” Utahime pressed, quipping her brow.

She got you there. While you dedicated countless hours watching pokemon battles of each of the elite 4, you studied Gojo’s battles religiously. There was no documented battle of his that you didn’t know like the back of your hand, and no matter how many times you’d seen him fight, you always felt the same awe and respect watching his talent.

The elite 4 and their pokemon stared at you intensely, waiting for your response. How could you refuse, when some of the top trainers in the world were practically begging you for this favor?

“I’ll do it if you really think I can help,” you said, fiddling with your fingers nervously.

All of them - minus Toji - notably relaxed their shoulders, thanking you.

“We’ve synced up your pokedex with his so you can always locate each other. You have a pokemon capable of flying, yes?” Utahime said, handing you your updated pokedex. You nodded, slipping it into your pocket.

“Perfect. Why don’t you pay him a visit?” Yuta said, smiling angelically at you. It seemed like you didn’t have a choice, not with the way they were all looking expectantly.

“All right. I’ll forward updates in the coming weeks,” you said, nodding to the rest of them as you turned to leave.

Before you reached the exit, a soft paw pad touched your shoulder. You turned to face Nanami’s Lucario, which was holding out a can of lemonade in its paws. You reached out to grab the can, smiling at the pokemon.

“For me?” you asked, brows furrowing as the Lucario shook its head.

“For…Gojo?” you asked, and immediately the Lucario smiled and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll pass it to him. Thank you,” you said, waving as you left.

Once you were outside the building, you released a sigh. Salamence immediately popped out of his pokeball, letting out a mixture of chuffs and roars and he nudged you with his nose.

You laughed, placing your hand under his chin and scratching.

“I’m alright buddy, I promise,” you said. You were incredibly bonded to all of your pokemon, but Salamence had a special place in your heart. He has always been your proud protector, ever since you came across him when he was an injured, weak Bagon.

Flipping open the map on your Pokedex, you located Gojo near a seaside town.

“Alright, ready to fly bud?” you asked Salamence. He roared in excitement as you jumped onto his back.

The soothing music of the waves against the shore always calmed you. Before you became a gym leader, you often visited the beach to relax and let your water-types splash around.

You didn’t even need your pokedex to locate the champion, who was garnering attention from every person nearby as he sat at the local cafe. He was practically surrounded by people, the shine of his silvery hair being the only thing singling him out in a crowd so big.

There was only one trick up your sleeve that was a sure-fire way of getting a crowd’s attention. Grabbing two of your pokeballs, you allowed Kingdra and Gyrrados to come out into the water.

They both jumped in immediately, happily swimming around as you laughed.

“Alright you two, I need you both to execute plan sparkle,” you said. They voiced their agreement and immediately began performing a dual variation of the move dragon dance in the water, causing major splashes and ripples that began drawing the huge crowd of people away from Gojo and towards them.

You shot them a thumbs-up before making your way over to the champion. It almost pissed you off how nonchalant he looked, leaning back in his chair with his legs stretched out, like there wasn’t anywhere he should be. His famous luxray lay at his feet, curled up next to a plate of what looked like poke puffs. Once he spotted you, he rose to his full stature, positioning himself in front of his trainer in a protective stance. You offered the Luxray a treat from your pocket, and the pokemon gently took it in his mouth before retreating to Gojo’s side.

“Champion Satoru Gojo,” you began, squaring your shoulders.

He glanced up at you immediately, his cerulean eyes peeking out behind a pair of black sunglasses that sat perched at the end of his nose. His silvery hair was down, brushing against his eyes ever so slightly from the sea breeze.

A hint of surprise ran across over his features, fast enough that you almost didn’t catch it.

“My name is-”

“I know who you are, dragon prodigy,” Gojo said, calling you by your nickname.

He knows who I am?

“May I ask why our esteemed champion is here, instead of facing all the challengers you have lined up to defeat you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He smiled at you, sending a stampede of butterfrees down your body. Gojo wasn’t famed for just his prowess in pokemon battle, no. He was one of the most famous champions for his beauty, especially with that signature smile of his.

“Looking to battle me, are you?” he said, crossing his arms over his head as he tilted his head down to get a good look at you.

“I’d never turn down a battle, but I’m not interested in your title, champion,” you said, a note of disdain in your voice. He raised a brow at you, as if he couldn’t believe a trainer didn’t want to become the coveted title of pokemon champion.

“Oh? Then why have you tracked me down here, miss prodigy,” he asked, reaching down to pet his Luxray.

“I’ve been tasked with making sure you get back to work. Please return to your post so I can return to my gym,” you said, failing at keeping the bite away from your words.

He stretched his long arms up, humming to himself as he considered your command.

“How about this? If you can retrieve the one thing I’m craving right now, I’ll return to the Pokemon League for today,” he said cheekily.

“How am I supposed to know what you’re cr-”

“You have 5 minutes. Good luck!”

Bastard.

You trudged back towards the beach, not bothering to waste your time on a fool’s errand. You were already mentally preparing your apology letter to the elite 4.

At least Kingdra and Gyrrados are having fun, you thought to yourself.

Your two water types continued to dance around in the water, thriving off the attention of all of the onlookers.

You felt his pokeball rattle against its spot in your pack before Salamence came out, seeming to sense your frustration.

“Can you believe it, Sal? The unbeatable Gojo Satoru is wasting his time here and ignoring his job. Think about how many people look up to him as champion!” you exclaimed, pacing as Salamence nodded his head.

That’s why they say never meet your heroes.

“He asked me to find his craving in 5 minutes. How the hell am I supposed to know what he’s craving? I barely met the man. I just know he likes sweets from all those interviews,” you admitted, shaking your head.

Salamence suddenly began nudging at the backpack you laid on the ground, tipping it over until its contents began to spill out.

“Hey knock it off bud, are you hungry or something?” you asked, reaching to gather the spilled contents. You paused when you laid eyes on the can of lemonade given to you by Nanami’s Lucario.

“There’s no way,” you mumbled to yourself, holding the can in your hands.

Worth a shot, I guess, you thought.

“Salamence, return.” Once your dragon was safely tucked back into his pokeball, you strode back to the champion, placing the can of lemonade on the table before him.

Gojo looked at you incredulously, then eyed the lemonade with a look you struggled to pinpoint.

“Satisfied?” you asked, bracing yourself for a rejection.

Instead, the sincere smile gracing his features took you by surprise. The way he picked it up made it seem like it was something precious, and suddenly the champion looked much younger.

“I am,” he said, moving to stand up to his impressive height. He towered over you, forcing you to look up as he stepped into your space. You gulped as you took notice of how stupidly handsome this man was.

“You win for today. But I’m sure I’ll see you again soon,” he drawled, stunning you with a wink.

You watched silently as he walked away, his enormous Charizard appearing before him. You gawked at the beautiful pokemon, the dragon-type lover in you urging you to come closer.

He was gone within seconds, leaving you with a lingering funny feeling, especially after seeing that last smile. It was nothing like the smiles you were familiar with - the arrogant smiles he wore after each victory, the charming smiles he put on for each interview. You grew lost in thought as you tried swallowing the urge to make him smile like that again.

What did I get myself into?

“Altaria, use peck!” you yelled, watching your pokemon dive toward the challenger’s Machoke. The Machoke stumbled back with the force of the hit, but quickly righted itself.

“Machoke, use low sweep!” your challenger yelled, his pokemon wasting no time in kicking out its feet against your Altaria.

Your pokemon dodged skillfully, evading the assault with minimal effort. After a couple more turns, your Altaria finished off the opponent’s pokemon with a final peck.

“And the winner is, our Gym Leader! Better luck next time, trainer Itadori,” your gym assistant said.

The boy named Itadori Yuji sank to his knees dramatically, placing his head in his hands as he yelled out in sorrow.

“You fought well Itadori,” you said, offering your hand to him.

“Wait, really?!” he exclaimed, taking your hand. His look of despair was immediately replaced with hope, reminiscent of a puppy.

“Yes, that Machoke of yours is quite strong. My advice is to work a bit more on type matchups,” you said, smiling as he eagerly noted your tips.

“Alright, just you wait! I’ll train even harder and I’ll beat you in no time,” he exclaimed, the fire once again alight in his eyes.

“I look forward to it,” you said genuinely, watching as he ran out of the gym in record time. And you meant it. While he was a little sloppy, he fought bravely, and with raw power you haven’t seen in a while. You could definitely see him challenging Gojo one day.

You reached up to stroke Altaria’s feathers, commending her for another battle well done.

“Okay, the rest of you can come out now,” you said aloud, smiling as the other 5 pokemon in your party came out of their pokeballs and began cheering for your victory.

Suddenly, Salamence began growling towards the platform where you usually held your battles. A familiar figure sat perched on the steps, smiling down at you like you were old friends.

“Congrats on the win, dragon prodigy,” Gojo said, unaffected by the rising hostility from Salamence.

“Easy bud, it's okay,” you said, patting his side.

“How long have you been here?” you said, struggling to comprehend how he evaded notice.

“Long enough to see you bullshit that battle with Yuji,” he said, pissing you off with his infuriating smile.

“Excuse me?” you asked, debating on letting Salamence go off on him.

“With your skillset, you’re capable of defeating his pokemon with a single move from each of yours. Yet each of his pokemon lasted longer than they should’ve,” he said meaningfully, his long steps quickly eating up the distance between you two.

“Why is that?” he asked, suddenly much closer to you, ignoring the snarling from Salamence.

You looked straight into his blue eyes, intrigued by how they were flicking back and forth between your own, studying you.

“Every time I defeat a challenger that way, it crushes their spirit. I’m still beating them, but I’m giving them a bit more confidence and practice this way,” you answered, turning away from him.

It broke your heart to see the look of utter defeat on each challenger’s face when you actually fought even close enough to your full strength.

Gojo hummed, shaking his head at you.

“You’re setting them up for failure. You’re giving these kids the false hope that their pokemon are strong enough to stand against your own, then when they finally get to the elite 4, they won’t stand a chance,” he said, piercing you with his words.

“Then they won’t have a single hope against me,” he continued coldly, watching for your reaction.

You never thought about it that way, how taking it easy on your challengers could be hurting them more than helping them.

“My advice: don’t hold back. I’d love to watch that beautiful fighting style of yours when you’re serious,” he said lowly, placing something cold in your hands before walking away.

You looked down at your hands quizzically, finding a can of lemonade.

“It’s the best after a fight!” Gojo yelled over his shoulder before he left.

You stood in silence, mulling over his words over and over again.

You slid your pokedex back into your pocket after confirming you found the right building.

Pokemon Trainer’s School was written in bold letters on the first sign you saw.

Your entrance into the building turned a few heads, and you earned a good amount of wide-eyed smiles and points as you searched the building for a certain champion.

“It’s the 8th gym leader!”

“The dragon prodigy is here!”

“Oh my gosh let's go get an autograph!”

You smiled and waved politely at each of them, making your way through each room until you finally spotted Gojo, standing in front of a chalkboard of a small class of students.

His eyes flickered to yours, but he continued talking as if he were expecting you.

“In order for you to defeat dragon-type pokemon, it’s best to use Ice and Fairy-type pokemon. But make sure to study the types of your opponent, and be weary of dual-types,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, which he of course ignored.

“Ah, perfect timing. Class, we have a special treat for today! A lesson from the very own dragon gym leader herself!” Gojo announced, gesturing to you.

You froze as 6 heads turned your way, various levels of shock written across each of their faces.

“A lesson from the gym leader herself, so cool!” the boy you recognized as Itadori yelled, pumping his fist.

You plastered on a polite smile as you walked up to the front towards Gojo, leaning into his space while the students were buzzing with chatter.

“Teaching them how to defeat me, are you? You’re such a dick,” you said quietly, nudging him in the ribs.

“Worried?” he countered, the grin evident in his voice.

“You wish,” you snapped, trying not to smile. It didn’t bother you, truly. What you were really trying to wrap your head around was why the elite champion was spending his afternoon teaching such a small class of trainers instead of battling his own challengers.

“Perfect, then you don’t mind teaching us a lesson about how to beat dragon types then right? Thank you!” he said, moving aside to sit amongst his students. You flipped him off before any of the kids could see, then focused your attention on the students staring at you expectantly.

“Alright, dragon types 101 then,” you said, launching into a lesson explaining almost everything you knew about your favorite type of pokemon.

The students listened attentively, surprising you with their engagement and the thoughtfulness of their questions. Class flew by in the blink of an eye, and soon enough you were alone in the classroom with Gojo.

He let out a whistle as you sat next to him on top of one of the desks.

“You’re a natural. Ever thought about teaching?” he said.

“Not really. But that was nice actually, those kids are very smart,” you admitted, smiling at the champion.

From the way his eyes widened ever so slightly, it must have thrown him off, seeing you smile for the first time like that.

“They are. I’ll bet you the future champion is among them,” he said sincerely, smiling warmly for once.

It tickled at your chest, the way his different expressions made you feel. You felt greedy to see more sides of him.

“Is that why you’re here, instead of doing your job?” you asked softly, nudging your knee against him.

“I’d much rather be here training these kids to become the best, than have to waste my time battling a bunch of rowdy upstarts who would abuse the champion title,” he said truthfully.

“Is that why you’re avoiding battles? Scared someone will beat you?” you asked curiously, studying the way his long lashes fanned against his cheek when he looked down.

“Nah. More like I don’t want to bother with kids who have zero chance beating me. It’s way more fun to train these kids to become strong enough to beat me. I’d be happy to hand over my title to one of them, someday,” he said, nudging you back.

His words made you pause.

“That was the most decent thing I’ve ever heard you say,” you said, thoughtfully, admiring the way the light of the late afternoon made his hair seem to glow.

“That's rude as hell,” he said, causing you to burst out in laughter. By the time you finished, you realized he’d been staring at you, making a blush creep up your cheeks.

“What?” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.

“What do I have to do to make you laugh like that again?” he asked genuinely, unleashing a hoard of butterfrees in your stomach.

You raised your brows, waiting for him to crack a joke or say something stupid again. But he didn’t, he was serious.

“Go back to the Pokemon League and do your job, then I’ll give you an award,” you said, smiling at the look of interest on his face.

“Hmm, since you were so kind to teach my kids a lesson, I’ll go back to work,” he said, rising up to his impressive stature.

“But I expect my reward to be paid in advance,” he said, leaning down so his face was inches away from yours.

You blushed furiously as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

Clearing your throat, you calmed yourself, plastering the sweetest smile you could muster on your lips.

“Close your eyes then,” you said as silkily as you could, trailing your left hand up his arm.

The champion froze, eyes widening before he complied and shut them. You fought a giggle before pressing the can of lemonade against his lips, enjoying the way his eyes shot open in surprise.

He grabbed the can from your hand before you dashed out of the room, giggling at your prank. You heard his hearty laughter echoing across the halls before you left.

It was a rare day off you had to yourself. No gym challengers, no chasing Gojo, just you and your Pokemon lounging at the beach.

The elite 4 sent you a thank you letter, claiming Gojo’s attendance had gone up significantly since you started checking up on him. They told you to take the week off, and you gladly did. There was an odd pang in your chest, though. You had become accustomed to seeing the champion, used to facing the different challenges he gave you that would get him back to work. He was undoubtedly annoying and cocky, yet you dared to find yourself missing him and the way he made you laugh.

Beach. Enjoy the beach, you urged yourself.

Kingdra and Gyrrados were racing each other in the water, joined by a couple of wild water pokemon. Altaria was soaring with a flock of wingulls, showing off her speed. Goodra and Garchomp were playing in the sand, creating what looked like a giant hole. Salamence was content to be laying at your side, sunbathing next to you.

You broke out of your daze once Altaria started nudging you with her wing.

“What’s up Tari? Are you already done flying?” you said, sitting up as you pressed your sunglasses to the top of your head.

You were taken aback to see that the sunny skies had been completely replaced with angry stormclouds, threatening to unleash their rain at any second.

“Oh geez, it’s about to start pouring huh,” you said, quickly gathering up your things.

You returned the rest of your party to their pokeballs, where they would be safe from the incoming storm.

The rain began coming down heavily, and you dashed out of the sand to take cover under a tree.

An ear-piercing cry startled you, and you turned to see two kids standing next to rocks by the shore.

“Hey you two! It’s dangerous to be out here when it's storming!” you yelled, walking towards the young kids.

They turned their identical faces towards you, both streaked with tears.

“Please rescue our Eevee!” one of them cried, clinging to you.

“She was swimming when the storm started. We can’t find her anywhere!” the other said.

You knelt to be eye-level with them, grabbing one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’ll find her for you, okay? But I need you both to stay hidden. It’s dangerous when it rains, the stronger pokemon tend to come out,” you warned.

“Salemence!” you yelled, watching as your pokemon appeared before you.

The twins looked at him with a mix of fear and awe as he quickly lifted his wings to shield them from the rain.

“I need you to stay with him okay? He’ll keep you safe while I rescue your Eevee,” you said. They nodded, huddling together against your pokemon.

Salamence immediately roared in protest, undoubtedly refusing to leave your side.

“I need you to protect them Sally, please. I’ll be okay, I promise,” you said, dropping your backpack next to him. You grabbed the mouthpiece that allowed you to breathe underwater, then dove into the sea before you had a chance to chicken out.

The freezing temperature of the water was a shock to your system. You had to rescue this Eevee fast if you wanted to avoid frostbite. You had honed your body to withstand extreme climates as you trained alongside your pokemon, but even you knew you couldn’t last long in this weather.

You swam furiously, dodging every pokemon within your radius. Not all of them would charge at you to battle, but the rain made it practically impossible to distinguish which pokemon was what, and you didn’t want to risk finding out. While treading water, you spotted a blur of brown on a group of rocks.

Swimming closer, you spotted a little Eevee, soaked wet and shivering. The poor thing looked up at you with sad, scared eyes as you hopped out of the water to approach it.

“It’s okay little one, I’m here to rescue you okay?” you said through chattering teeth. You struggled to feel your fingers, but you forced yourself to take out the pokeball you borrowed from the twins anyways.

“I’ll get you back to your trainer. Eevee, return,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief once the pokemon was safely back into its ball.

Tucking the ball inside a small pouch you carried, you dove back into the water. To your dismay, a school of tentacruels were gathering near the surface of the water, and you knew them to be aggressive. You’d have to dive deeper into the water to avoid being spotted, but you were running out of time before the cold would give incapacitate you.

Mustering all your strength, you swam the distance back to shore, unable to gather the energy to do anything except lean against a rock just beyond the reach of the water.

Salamence ran to you immediately, the two twins hot on his trail. Once he reached you, he whined and nudged at you, but you were too cold to move. The continued assault of the rain didn’t help the excruciating chill you were feeling.

“S-she’s s-safe,” you bit out, shakily placing Eevee’s pokeball back in the hands of the twins, who cried as they thanked you.

“S-sal, please g-get them t-to the p-pokemon c-center,” you said, your shivers becoming so violent it was near impossible to talk.

Salamence whined, refusing to move. He covered all three of you with his wings, and you had no strength left to chide him for ignoring you.

You vaguely heard the twins speaking to you, asking if you were okay. But you could barely register their words with the cold seeping into your bones, numbing your brain and making you feel sleepy.

“Shit,” you heard from a familiar voice. You felt his hand against your cheek before he released a hiss.

“You’re fucking freezing,” he said, and you cracked your eyes open enough to see the panic racing against his beautiful features.

“G-gojo?” you chattered, wondering if the hypothermia was getting to your brain and making you see things.

“Salamence, please get the kids to safety,” Gojo asked. You heard Salamence growl in response.

“I promise I will help your trainer, but I can’t do that if I need to help them too. Please,” he said, surprising you with how softly he spoke to your pokemon.

It must have worked, as you heard the beating of his wings that meant he took flight. Probably to the nearest Pokemon Center to bring the twins to safety.

“Bear with me for a sec,” Gojo said, lifting you up with one arm under your legs and one across your lower back.

“I’m f-fucking c-cold,” you said, shaking violently in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I know baby. I’ll get you warm,” he said, breaking out into a sprint. You clung to him as much as you could, releasing your grip once the sound of the rain became muffled.

He set you down gently against what felt like a wall of rock. The cold bit into your skin, but at least it was dry here.

Gojo knelt to face you, taking your face in his hands. You leaned your cheek into his warm palms, feeling overwhelmed with relief at seeing his familiar face.

“I need to get you out of your wet clothes, okay?” he said, not moving until you nodded. Once you did, he made quick work of your outfit, stripping you down until you were completely bare before him.

Any embarrassment you felt was overshadowed by the determination in his eyes, the hard set to his mouth that you rarely ever caught without a smile. A part of you wished he’d crack a joke or say something stupid to piss you off and lighten the mood, but he didn’t.

Reaching into his pack, he swiped a hand towel and began silently running it across your body, drying you swiftly as you continued to shiver.

His cerulean eyes shimmered with focus as he stripped off his own clothing, slipping his own shirt over your frame. You sighed with relief as the warm, dry fabric of his shirt soothed your chilled skin, hanging over you like a dress and enveloping you with his clean scent.

“Better?” he asked, taking your frozen fingers into his hands, and exhaling onto them to warm them up.

You nodded, warmth filling your body with how gently he was treating you. Your eyes traveled town his toned torso, admiring how his body seemed sculpted out of marble.

“But won’t you be c-cold?” you asked, wrapping your arms tightly against yourself.

“Worry about yourself, prodigy. Your lips are blue,” he said, settling himself behind you in only his pants and boots.

He placed his hands onto your hips, lifting you slightly and settling you on his lap. You gasped as the warmth of his front began seeping into your back, his arms cradling you and he continued to wordlessly rub your hands between his. It felt incredibly intimate.

He’s just doing it to save your life, calm down, you thought to yourself.

He paused for a second, reaching his hand to grab something from his pocket.

“Charizard,” he said. Within seconds, the pokemon appeared before your eyes, staring down at you.

“We need your fire. Please,” Gojo said, jerking his head down towards you.

Charizard nodded, laying down on its stomach, positioning the tip of its tail in front of you and Gojo. The fire at the tip of its tail provided you with immediate relief.

After a while, the shivering racking your body subsided, and your teeth finally stopped chattering.

“Thank you. Both of you,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. Charizard made a sound that you took as “you’re welcome, I guess,” and Gojo’s arms around you tightened.

“You could’ve died, you know,” Gojo said lowly, his voice tickling the shell of your ear.

“I know,” you answered, squeezing his hands that held yours.

“Why would you put yourself at risk like that?” he asked more calmly than you’d expected, rubbing slow circles into your palms.

“I couldn’t just leave their Eevee out there. It would’ve died,” you said, observing the rain still heavily pouring outside of the cave. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that their Eevee would’ve lost it’s life had you not saved it, either from drowning or from hypothermia.

“Why didn’t you have your pokemon help you? You have water types,” Gojo pressed, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, causing you to shiver.

“I couldn’t risk any of them getting injured. They’re too precious to me,” you said.

Gojo heaved a heavy sigh, the warmth of his exhale tickling across the sensitive skin near your nape.

“You and your bleeding heart,” he said, a mixture of resignment and admiration in his voice.

“Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same. But I would’ve at least called for help first,” he said, making you laugh.

“Right, how did you know to find me here?” you asked, warm enough to turn in his lap to face him. Your breath caught as you realized just how close he was to you, and you couldn’t help your eyes as they lingered on his perfectly pink lips.

You’d never been close enough to him before to see the little flecks of silver that made his eyes shine. His silvery hair was slightly damp from the rain, a few strands curling around his face that made him seem younger. He was devastatingly beautiful.

He reached out to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I just had a sudden urge to see you. I’ve become so used to seeing your pretty face show up everywhere I go, that I got lonely when you stopped,” he said honestly. You smiled.

“Imagine my surprise when I get here and you’re freezing to death. You really scared me back there,” he said, his throat bobbing.

He was frightened for you. He saved you. He cared about you.

You leaned forward, gingerly wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He returned it immediately, wrapping his hands across your shoulders. His hands traced small circles into your skin, as if he needed to keep touching you to make sure you were still there.

“I’m sorry. Thank you,” you whispered into his ear, rubbing your cheek against the silky skin of his shoulder.

The two of your relaxed in the silence, the sound of the rain and Charizard’s breathing becoming strangely comforting.

The sound of a familiar roar shook you from your thoughts, as Salamence landed at the front of the cave, a package in his mouth.

“Sally!” you yelled, attempting to get up from Gojo’s lap. His long fingers grasped your hips, tugging you back down to him.

“You’re not warm enough yet. Stay,” he said, earning him a warning growl from Salamence.

Salamence shook off the rain at the entrance of the cave, walking towards you. Him and Charizard exchanged a few snarls, but neither of them actually made any moves towards the other.

You stuck your arm out, and Salamence stuck his nose against your palm.

“You okay bud? You’re soaked,” you said, feeling the chill from the rain on his skin. He chuffed, depositing the package in his mouth beside you.

Gojo unwrapped it, finding a set of dry clothes and a few towels. The pokemon centers usually prepared these packages for extreme weather, and the twins must have alerted one of the nurses to send him off with one.

“Good job,” Gojo said, reaching out his hand to pat Salemence. To your complete surprise, Salamence accepted his touch, closing his eyes contently as Gojo scratched his chin.

“Let’s get you changed and head out. I’d rather get you checked out to be safe first, that okay?” Gojo asked, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, checking how warm you were.

You nodded, wishing he would never stop touching you.

Luckily, you narrowly avoided hypothermia or frostbite thanks to Gojo. You were able to recover quickly, and before you knew it you were back at your platform inside of your gym.

“How many challengers do we have today?” you asked your gym assistant, feeding Garchomp a pokepuff.

“Um, one,” he said, eyes darting left to right nervously.

“Just one?” you questioned, noticing how your assistant looked more anxious than usual. You were used to battling 4-5 challengers a day, making sure to give your pokemon ample rest between. It was unusual for you to only have one battle.

“Yes ma’am. He requested he be the only one,” your assistant said, fiddling with his pokedex.

“Requested? Who the hell does this guy think he is,” you said, glaring at the trembling teenager. It was very bold to request to be the only challenger at a gym - it usually implied that the trainer thought very highly of themselves.

“The champion,” Gojo said, stepping up from the staircase, smirking at you cockily.

You furrowed your brows as you stared at the Champion. He was actually dressed in his fighting attire - a dark blue zip-up with his collar popped up, and matching pants. You had to admit he looked damn good in it, even though he looked great in everything.

“You’re challenging me today?” you asked, placing you hands on your hips as you gawked at him in disbelief. To your dismay, Salamence came barreling up to him, nuzzling his side like they were old friends.

“Yup,” he said, happily complying with Salamence’s demands for pets. Gojo walked up to you, stopping just a few feet before you.

“I challenge you, dragon prodigy. If I win, you’ll let me take you out on a date,” he said, flashing an infuriatingly bright smile at you as he winked.

You threw your head back as you shook with laughter. Only he would be extra enough to challenge you to a battle in order to ask you out.

“You’re on, champion,” you said, mirroring his own grin with your own. Salamence roared in excitement, undoubtedly itching to face off with Gojo’s Charizard.

“And don’t you dare hold back on me baby, cuz I sure as hell won’t be holding back on you,” he said, readying the pokeball in his hands.

“I wouldn’t dare. Lets go, Salemence!” you said, watching your pokemon ready his stance in front of you.

But you knew you had already lost - because you were going out with him regardless of the outcome of this battle.

Back at the Pokemon League

“Seems like the dragon gym leader succeeded,” Yuta said, smiling at the news article on his pokedex.

“Indeed. Gojo agreed to stop ditching work as long as we invested more funds into training schools,” Nanami said, kicking a ball back and forth with his Lucario.

“Oh, I was talking about her finally dating Gojo. But it was great that she helped us get him back to work,” Yuta said, showing Nanami the article he was looking at.

Newest Dragon-type Gym Leader spotted holding hands with Pokemon Champion Gojo!

The ends of Nanami’s lips curved up as he smiled, shaking his head.

“It’s about time. He hasn’t shut up about her for years,” Nanami said. Yuta’s light laughter filled the room as he handed his Dusclops an oran berry.

“By the way, why did you have Lucario send her that can of lemonade the first time she came here?” Yuta asked.

“Ah, that,” Nanami began, patting Lucario on the head.

“Gojo got that brand every time he won a battle, back when we were teenagers. I figured it would help her make a good first impression,” he said. Yuta laughed once more.

“Looks like it worked.”

~fin~

169 notes · View notes

codfanficedits · 5 months

Text

Final Goodbye - Full version.

Pairing: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick & Reader

Summary: You are Death, guiding the men to the afterlife.

Wordcount: 12,467 | Rating: M (18+ only!)

Warnings: MW3 SPOILERS - Suicide - Selfharm and grieving.

A/N: Different colours to identify dialogue better. Gave John a little backstory.

Being the reaper was a work of art on its own. It was your duty to guide the souls whose time was up to the afterlife, and you had made it your personal mission to make sure that as little as possible souls would cross to the afterlife scared. After all, death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints.

As a result you had to divide yourself, as an immortal being that was an easy thing to do. Being everywhere at once, yet being nowhere at the same time.

You had the taskforce in your sight for a while now. Four elite soldiers going on missions, you almost had your work cut out for you. But they were good, good enough to keep you lurking in the shadows, for now.

Some of them had come close, close enough to dance the dance of death with you, only to be granted a little more time. John “Soap” MacTavish being one of them. There had been plenty of moments where you had held his hands already, almost revealing your true form before he got pulled away from your grasp.

Life enjoyed playing tricks with you, with death. But it was what humans needed, a little reminder of their mortality so they could enjoy their life again.

And so here you were. You had been following John for a little while now, sensing that his time would be up again. And it was special so to say to follow him around, for every life he took, you would see a version of yourself pop up, taking the life he had claimed to the afterlife, only for that version of yourself to fade again, the very fragments of your soul being scattered around the world in an attempt to make the experience of death a more pleasant one than the experience of being alive. Not that you succeeded all the time. Sometimes you had to guide lives who deserved to live for another fifty years, sometimes the souls were terrified, and sometimes they were waiting for you, as old friends finally meeting up again. It could be a cruel world, but you weren’t there to judge. Humans had free will, and you could not interfere with it.

John’s death happened quick. Too quick for your liking. You preferred it when it took a little time. Not that you liked the suffering of the souls, no, of course not. But it was the best for all whenever a soul was at peace with their death. And John certainly was not.

“What the fuck?” He scolded. “Why the fuck can’t I grab my fucking weapon?”

“What kind of bullshit is this? Cap’n are you seeing thi-“ His sentence cutting short.

Oh you had seen this film before, and you never liked the ending. The look of despair when they see their body lying on the ground.

“No. No! Nonononono.” There it was.

Time seems to be standing still when reality seeps into his brain, his hand reaching out to his limp body on the ground, but he goes straight through it. A look of confusion, pain, anger, sadness when he can see his teammates continue the mission he couldn’t finish. He sees them disarm the bomb, he sees his best friend, Simon, kneel by his body, frantically looking for a pulse.

“I’m here!” John yells, waving his arms in front of Simon’s face, but it is no use, John no longer belongs to the earth, nor does he belong to the afterlife yet. He is in your realm, your limbo and you are the only one who can grand him the freedom of moving on.

“Simon! I am here!” He yells again, but he is meet with the empty eyes of his best friend, and a soft. “No pulse.”

“Hello.”

Your voice snaps him out of it. “Who the fuck are you?”

But it should be clear, the big, dark, black cloak hiding you, hiding your face. “I am Death.”

“I have died?”

“Afraid so.”

“That is a whole lot of bullshit. Can’t you turn it back or something?”

“No.”

You give him the time to process what had happened, what is happening, and what is about to happen.

“So, what now?” He asks, a hand running through his mohawk, his eyes shifting back to his dead body again.

“That depends.” You answer. “Are you ready to move on yet?” Normally you wouldn’t give the souls a choice, no normally you would guide them to the afterlife, maybe have a little small talk, but there was something inside of you telling you this death would stir up some things. So you decided to give him the choice.

“No.” His answer is quick, and you can tell he didn’t think about it.

“Why not?”

“There are so many thing that I still need to do.”

“You know you can’t do them now, right? You are death, you no longer possess your own body, everything you say, or do, is not visible in the human world.” Sometimes you have to be blunt in order to get your point across.

“Oh.”

“So I ask you again. Are you ready to move on?”

“No.”

“Give me a reason.”

John’s gaze shifts to the three men standing over his body, the pain in their eyes is visible and it is undeniable that they had a strong bond, something more than just coworkers. And their pain is shared, as you can see the same pain in his eyes.

“I need to know if they will be okay.”

“You can’t change anything if they won’t be okay.”

“I know, but I know they will be okay, I just need to see it with my own eyes.”

“Very well.” You answer. “You get to decide when you are ready.”

He looks up when he sees other versions of you reap the lives he and his team have taken, his brows furrow and you can tell he wants to ask you questions. Humans have always been curious creatures. “If you have something on your mind, speak up.”

“Who are those?” His fingers point at a version of you who slowly fades away.

“They are me and I am them.”

“That tells me exactly nothing.”

A soft laugh escapes you, even death this man is fearless.

“They are parts of my soul.” You explain. “I prefer to guide every soul to the afterlife personally, but with the volume of souls on this earth, I have to split myself in order to keep up.”

“And I am talking to the main version of Death?”

“That is how you could call it.”

“Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Splitting yourself?”

“I am no mortal being, pain does not exist in my realm. So to answer your question. It does not hurt.”

His fingers go to the bullet wound in his head, his fingers trailing on the edges, before he pulls them back and looks at the blood on his fingers. “Huh. I got so caught up with this whole being dead thing, that I forgot I got shot.”

A smile forms around your lips. “You’re not the first to which that has happened.”

He is mesmerized, can you blame him? It is not every day that you meet death in person.

“If there is a death, does life exist too?”

“Yes. And Life is quite nice.”

“You’ve met them?”

“Of course, without Life I would not exist, and without me, Life would not be able to continue their creations. We dance a dance of existence together.”

“Hm.” John seems content with your answer. “Hey, can we follow L.T?”

“Simon Riley?”

“Yes.”

“Sure.” The benefit of being an immortal creature was that the law of physics and time did not apply to you, or to Johnny for that matter. “Why him, though?”

“I worry about him the most.” Johnny admitted with a shrug, a flicker of emotions in his eyes before it dies down again. “He had a fucked up life, and we had grown to be good friends, I worry he won’t take my death well.”

Oh sweet summer child, if you only knew. But you cannot interfere with the living and it is no point in telling Johnny what you know, so you keep quiet and grant his request.

“He has become my best friend in the military, you know?” Johnny breaks the silence, as you watch Simon, who at this time, doesn’t seem to feel a thing.

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Been watching the taskforce for a while.”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“And you give a lot of answers. Now why were you watching us?”

“You’re soldiers. Death follows you around.”

“In the most literal sense.” He laughs at his own joke, and all you do is stare at him, blinking a few times.

“Jezus, even L.T. wasn’t as hard to crack.” He mutters.

“I worry.” John repeats. “I worry that when I died. Simon died too, and Ghost remained.”

In a sense he is not wrong. You can feel it too, the guilt that Simon carries, the hatred towards himself for letting a friend die.

“He is grieving.” You eventually say. “And while grief is a beautiful thing, it expresses itself in the most destructive ways.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

You can see his face shift, he understands Simon won’t cope well, and it doesn’t sit right with him. “I guess there is no way I can interfere with it, right?”

“Correct.”

“Huh.” He stays silent for a brief moment, while he watches the mission debrief going on, without him, but about him. “How does time work here?”

“I am not sure what you mean.”

“Can’t you speed up time or something? Turns out watching people gets kind of boring.”

Humans had always been impatient beings. “I can.” You say. “I can fast forward until we see Simon all by himself.”

His eyes light up, and you’ve hit the mark. “Yes, yes, I need to see how he copes.”

Alas, you grant him his wish, after all, you are death, not some cruel being.

His eyes widen as time around the two of you starts to speed up, the world moving at a faster pace while you are both the centre of it. You see his emotions shift to a sad one, he tries to hide it, but it is hard to conceal the emotions in his eyes, even for a hardened soldier. A soft sigh escapes him when he watches the sunset and you understand it. The sunsets are your favourite thing on earth too.

“It is hard to grasp that I’ll never see another sunset again.” John whispers and you can do nothing but nod. You understand, of course you do. “I just wish I would have appreciate them more while I was alive.”

“For what it is worth. You’re not the first who only appreciates the beauty of life when it is ripped away from them.”

A pained expression paints his face. “It is really the end, huh?” He mutters softly as you slow down time again. “There will be no second chances after this.”

“We are here.” You say, but you only form your sentence to get him out of his thoughts, of course he recognizes Simon’s quarters. He has been there before.

You guide him through the wall, knowing that what the both of you are about to see isn’t a pretty sight. Simon had taken his famous Ghost mask off, balaclava tossed on his bed, an empty look in his eyes, while he watches the dog tags in his hand. One of them is missing, and a smile curls around your lips when you realise where they are.

John doesn’t notice, instead he is hesitant to reach out to his friend.

“Fuck!” Simons booming voice startles John. “Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” Simon is blaming himself and all that hatred needs to come out. His fists slam down on the mirror on the wall, the shards digging in to the skin on his hands, but it only fuels Simon’s anger. “It should have been me! Fucking me!”

Times like these make your job hard, while you do not understand humans all the time, you can understand their grief, their longing, their desperate attempts to cope with their loved ones being gone.

His hands clutch around the dog tag, the material reminder he has of his best friend. You know Simon wants to cry, to let out all the build up frustration, but you also know Simon is raised by violence and not by love, so he doesn’t allow himself to. Blood drips slowly from his balled fist as he takes deep breaths to calm himself down. Not that it is doing much, every time Simon catches a glimpse of himself, he is reminded of the loss that happened today.

“Is he going to be okay?” John asks.

“I don’t know.” You answer, but you know, you know what will happen, and you know it won’t be pretty, but John doesn’t need to know, not when you can see the pain on his face, the pain in his eyes. The pain in his very soul to see his friend react like this.

His breath hitches in his throat when he sees Simon looking for something, a hidden bottle of whiskey appearing from between his socks in his dresser.

“Fuck.” John’s voice is soft. “Fuck!” It isn’t as soft anymore when Simon takes the first swig.

“Are you really sure I can’t do something? Anything?”

You shake your head.

“Please, anything. I beg you.” The desperation in his voice is clear as day, he doesn’t even try to hide how he feels about his best friend drinking.

“I.. I.. I can’t see this. Simon CAN’T drink himself to death because of me, because I died, becau-“

“He doesn’t drink himself to death.”

And for John time stops again, the weight of the world falling off his shoulders. “Oh thank God.” He sighs. “I mean, thank you, thank life? What is appropriate to say?”

He doesn’t drink himself to death, it will be far worse.

“Thank God is fine.” You eventually answer.

John looks at Simon again, who keeps on drinking the whiskey as if he needs it to survive. “I’m sorry.” Simon eventually says, and John’s eyes lit up. “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” John rambles. “It wasn’t your fault. We all knew Makarov was an asshole.”

“It should’ve been me.” Simon sighs, not hearing the words his best friend so desperately wants to hear him. “You had so much things you still wanted to do, you still had a life in store.”

“Bollocks, Simon.” John tries to tell him while Simon takes another sip. “Fucking bollocks. You can make something out of your life too! We’ve talked about this.”

The nearly empty bottle gets thrown to the wall when Simon locks eyes with the dog tag again. “Fuck. I really hope that when I wake up tomorrow, you’ll still be alive, and this is all a horrible dream.”

Simon ignores the mess on the ground, he ignores the life outside of his quarters, he ignores the world that keeps on spinning, that keeps going on, while his life stopped the moment that bullet hit John. Instead he half undresses himself, slow, lazy movements, the alcohol making it hard to be precise. And he curls up in a ball, the single dog tag clutched in his hand, close to his heart, an gesture to keep his best friend close to him.

“Oh L.T. that hangover is going to hurt.” John mumbles. “And you promise he won’t drink himself to death, right?”

“I promise.”

“And I really can’t give him a sign that I am still here? Or you know, put a glass of water on his nightstand or something?”

“Afraid not.”

“I wish I could though.” John adds with a sigh, looking over the sleeping form of his friend.

“How is the rest coping?”

“You mean John and Kyle?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to see?”

His eyes light up again. “Can I?”

“Wouldn’t have said it, if you couldn’t”

“In that case, yes, yes please.”

“Who first?”

He needs to think for a brief moment, does he want to see his Captain first, or his other good friend? He isn’t as worried about them as he was about Simon, yet the decision seems an easy one.

“Kyle.”

“Very well.” You hold out your hand for him to take, taking him to the quarters of his other friend. The young man lies on his bed, above the sheets, just staring at the ceiling, tears burning in his eyes.

John needs to swallow a lump in his throat. “He’ll be fine.” Will he?

“But shit.” John continues. “I wish I had told him I was proud of him more often.”

The both of you stay quiet while Kyle rolls over to his side, facing the wall, eyes still wide open.

“He was a little younger than I was, but we had the same rank, and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t become the best soldier out there. So young, yet so many achievements already.” John runs a hand through his mohawk. “I just.. I just hope he knows how proud I am of him.”

Another smile tugs around your lips, while Kyle rolls over again, it is clear that he can’t seem to get comfortable, the events of today replaying in his mind while he tries to process what happens, while he tries to find a balance between being a tough soldier, and being human.

“I want to become like you Soap, when I grow up.” Kyle mutters, before he finally closes his eyes. And you look over to John, making sure that he heard the words that left his friends lips and in that moment he looks like a proud father, the same words he had once told Simon, were now said by someone he was so proud of.

John wants to reach out, pat his friend on the shoulder and promise him everything will be okay. But he can’t and you can tell it is eating him inside. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and another.

“Okay.” He finally said. “I think I want to see the Captain now.”

“Sure.”

Once more you hold out your hand for him to take, allowing him to see his Captain.

“Oh.”

It Is not a pretty sight. Price’s phone lights up time after time, missed calls from Laswell, from Nicolai, but he doesn’t answer them, paperwork gets ignores while he smokes cigar after cigar. His way to cope with stress.

“Shit.” John curses. “I would’ve thought captain would be the least affected.”

But Price is only human, and humans grief in the worst ways possible. The taskforce had become the family he once dreamed of having, he found solace in the people around him, and losing one was always hard, especially when it was someone who was close to him. Price slams his fist on his desk, startling John.

“Makarov came for me.” The voice coming out of Price is soft, a stark contrast with the loud slamming of his fist only moments ago. “You died because you tried to help me.”

“You would’ve done the same, cap.” John answers. “You would’ve given your life to save any of us.”

Price sighs and shakes his head, his hand reaching out to grab a picture off his desk, a group picture, the four of them together.

“Fucking idiot.” Price mutters. “You should’ve never done that. I should bring you back from the death, only to kick you so hard you’ll die again.” It is almost an endearing way of coping and John can’t help but chuckle.

You give John a nudge, pointing at the dog tags Price is wearing. Instead of two, his chain has three. John’s being added after he identified the body and gave Laswell the details for the report.

John’s gaze softens as he notices. “I’ll never be far away from them.”

“Never.”

“You know what. I think they’ll be alright without me. They will learn to live again.”

You can tell he wants to tell you that he is ready to move on, but you stop him by raising your hand. “Do you want to see your final moment together?”

“Sure.”

Once again you reach out your hand for him to take, and within the blink of an eye you’re in the Scottish highlands, three adults standing by a cliff, an urn in their hands. It is almost peaceful, serene.

“Who dares wins, sleep easy soldier.” Price is the first to talk.

“See you down range, brother. We’ll take it from here.” Kyle is the second to follow.

“Rest in peace, Johnny.” Simon is the last to speak.

You and John watch Simon unscrew the lid of the urn, tilting it, allowing the ashes to dance with the wind.

“I feel… at peace.” John mentions, watching his ashes spread through the air.

He sits down on the edge of the cliff, patting down next to him, signalling you to sit next to him, and so you do.

“I want to ask something.”

“And if I can, I will answer.”

“Why do you look human? Are you human?”

“No, I am not human.”

“Then what are you?”

“I am death. I have always been death and I will always be death. However, if I choose to portray myself other than human, it will make your kind freak out even more.”

John can’t help but laugh at your words. “Truth be told, I think I would’ve freaked out to see something else than human, yes.”

His gaze falls on the beautiful scenery in front of the two of you.

“So, what happens next?”

“When you’re ready I’ll help you cross to the afterlife.” You answer.

“What is the afterlife like?”

“That depends. It is different for everyone.” You reply.

“Is there like a heaven and hell?”

“No. The afterlife is a place where your soul goes to after your body has died. Every soul gets its own realm, and there it stays, together with all the souls it loves.”

“So, does that mean I’ll see the soul of my grandmother?”

“If you loved her, yes.”

“Does that.. does that mean I’ll see Bobby again?”

“Your dog?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course.”

“I’ve missed him.”

“He knows.”

“I’m glad.”

John knows it is time for him to go, but he has to ask the question that burns within him.

“Will I see them again?”

“Eventually. I can tell your bond is strong enough for all of you to be reunited again in the afterlife.”

“I’ll wait for them.”

“And when their time has come I’ll be sure to guide them to you.”

“Thank you, Death.” For the last time John takes your hand in his. “I am ready now.”

Out of all three of them, Kyle had struggled the most with John’s death, or Soap, as the living men preferred to refer to him. Their silly nicknames never made much sense to you, how could John become a Soap, a Kyle become a Gaz, and a Simon become a Ghost?

Kyle had seen Soap – John – as some sort of mentor, someone to look up to, and the fact that that person was gone, was something Kyle couldn’t grasp, something he didn’t want to grasp.

It turned out that Soap also was the glue that held the four of them together, and with him being gone, the group of soldier started to fall apart, slowly, but surely.

And all you could do was wait patiently.

So you did, waiting in the shadow after Kyle took dangerous mission after dangerous mission. Today was no exception, much to the despair of his captain. Not that that would stop Kyle. No, Kyle felt as if he had to prove himself, he wanted to make Soap proud, he wanted to make Simon proud, he wanted to make his captain proud. So much that he forgot his own mortality in the process.

And there he was, laying in the high grass, hiding from the enemy that planted a bullet into his lower abdomen.

Time for you to come into action, you had been lurking into the shadow for a while now, and just when you were ready to step out again, you saw them. Life.

“Not yet, Death.” Life’s bright voice sounds. “This one isn’t done yet.”

You can only watch while Life takes his hand into theirs, making sure Kyle can hold on until help arrives.

Life is everything Death isn’t. Where you, Death, are surrounded by sadness, despair, and darkness, Life is surrounded by joy, happiness, and light. Yet your realms seem to interfere, blend in together, not every soul is happy to be alive, and other souls deserve to live longer than the universe can grand them.

Life and Death dance around the world, leaving a trail of love and grief wherever they go.

“Gaz!” A loud voice booms over the field, his lieutenant comes running over, as fast as his legs can carry him. “Seems like you will win this round, Life.” You muse, as you watch Simon apply pressure to the wound.

“I need a medic, NOW!” Simon yells. “I can’t lose you Gaz.” He adds with a softer voice. “Not you too.”

But Kyle can’t look Simon in his eyes, not yet, right now he isn’t able to cope with the disappointment he will see in his lieutenants eyes. “I’ll be fine.” Kyle mutters with a meek smile, and you can see Life squeeze his hand.

“Of course.” Simon agrees, because Simon doesn’t dare to think about the fact that he might lose someone he cares about again.

“You’ll be okay Gaz, I’ll make sure.” And with those words, Simon spews out what he wanted to tell to Soap.

And Kyle will be okay, Life had made sure that he escaped from your grasp for the final time. Life continued to hold Kyle’s hand until he reached the infirmary, Life didn’t let go off his hand until the first stitch was placed in the wound, letting him live until his time was up.

And you just followed, following Life and Kyle into the infirmary, quietly waiting. Kyle’s time would come, quicker than he would expect it to happen.

Life finally let go off his hand, giving you a quick nod before they disappeared again.

You just watched, seeing fragments of yourself guide the souls of the less fortunate while you had yourself fixated on the young man before you.

You watched over his shoulder when he took out his phone. His hand shaking while he went to call his mother, a shaky breath leaving his lips when his mother picked up the phone and the video call starts.

“Mom.”

“Kyle? My boy, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You never call without a reason. What’s on your mind?”

“Just.. I know.. You.. I..” The poor boy started to stutter, not able to express the emotions he wanted to express.

And a mothers love knows no boundaries. “Are you worried about John, Bearie?”

A sour expression crossed his face by the nickname from his childhood, but it is quickly swallowed. “Yeah.” He muttered softly.

You know the look his mother bears, it is the look of a woman who wishes her son wasn’t away from her, a mother who wishes she could crawl through the phone to comfort her son about his fallen teammate.

“What is on your mind, boy?”

“I just wonder ma.” Kyle starts. “I wonder if he was in pain, if he was scared, if he would ever be proud of me.”

No he wasn’t, more pissed off than scared, more than you’ll ever know.

His mother sighs softly. “Those are questions you’ll never find an answer to. But I get it, I had the same questions when your grandpa passed. And I like to think that both of them are proud of us. You have reason to be proud, Kyle. I am sure John is proud of you too.”

The expression on his face softens. “Thank you mom.”

“Anytime Bearie.”

He rolls his eyes, quick enough so that his mother doesn’t catch on.

“Do you want to speak to your sisters too?”

“No, I’m quite tired, just missed you.”

“I miss you too Kyle. Promise me you’ll come home soon yeah?”

“Promised ma, I’ll see you soon okay?”

“I love you, Bearie, stay safe.”

“Love you too mom.”

The moment his call gets disconnected, he presses his lips against his phone, wishing to press the same kiss against his mothers forehead. Kyle had never struggled to be away from his family, but with Soap’s passing, he found himself longing to be with his family more and more. Maybe he would take a little break after his next mission.

But Kyle never got to take that break. Soon after he was cleared from the infirmary he found himself taking dangerous missions again. The promise to his mother being long forgotten whenever he found himself enjoying the rush again, the feeling of being alive, of being worthy, he finally felt as if he mattered.

Not that any of that was important right now. Because right now Kyle was about to meet you. He had found himself caught in enemy crossfire once more, being in the delusion that he is in fact invincible. But he isn’t, no one is really no matter how often they think they are.

Kyle groans, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his short breaths, as his hands clutch the wound on his chest, he knew that time was running out, and even you knew that Life wouldn’t be able to keep him away from you.

“Hello.”

Kyle looks up at your words, his eyes wide with fear. “Are you? Did I? Am I dead?”

“Not yet.”

“Fuck.” His face scrunches in pain.

“I suppose I can’t sweet talk my way out of dying.”

“Afraid not.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I promised mom I would come home again.”

“You did.”

“How did you know?”

“That is something for later. Right now I would advice you to call your mother.”

A short flash of gratitude in his eyes before the pain takes over again. With a bloody hand he takes out his phone, dialling his mother’s number. But she doesn’t pick up, she is on the other side of the world, blissfully unaware that her son is about to breathe his last breath.

His lips press together to a thin line when he reaches her voicemail.

“Mommy?” His voice is quivering when he speaks. “It’s me, Bearie. I’m so sorry, but I won’t be coming home again. I.. I.. I.. I was too reckless, thought I had to make you and the whole world proud after Soap died, and now I never get to see you again.” The words spill out of him worried his life will be over before he can say the things he wants her to hear.

“I am so sorry for breaking my promise mom, I love you, I love the girls. Please don’t blame yourself.” His breathing is getting quicker and he starts to get cold, a sign for you that his time is coming to an end. You hold out your hand to him, a subtle notice that he has to hurry up.

“Mom. Mom I can’t say this enough, I should’ve said it more to you, but I love you. I really love you, thank you for being my mother.”

One raspy breath, another raspy breath.

“Oh and mom? It doesn’t hurt, I promise. It doesn’t hurt and I am not scared.”

Lair.

He ends the call, the pain is visible in his face, in his eyes. In everything. His hand is shaking when he reaches for your held out hand, and the moment you touch him, it is over. The pain disappears, his face relaxes.

Kyle stands besides you, looking at his dead body. “I had to lie to her, you know. She would never forgive herself for allowing me to join the army.”

“Do not worry, I am not here to judge you.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“To guide you.”

“To hell?”

“No, to the afterlife.”

“Oh.”

It stays quiet for a little bit.

“How did you know I had promised mom that I would come home?”

“You should’ve been dead the last time you got shot, but Life decided you were allowed some more time.”

“Can I thank Life?”

“No, Life is a shy creature, and prefers to not be seen by the mortals. I am in no position to deny Life their wishes.”

A quick nod, as Kyle seems to understand what you mean.

He looks at his body again, and a sad look appears on his face. “Will my mother at least have my body back home?”

You nod. “Yes, let me speed up time a little, because it does take a while.”

“You can speed up time?”

“Correct, right now you are no longer in the world of the living, but in my realm. My rules apply here.”

He relaxes as time begins to speed up.

“Watch closely.” You urge. “You might not have realised, but the sunset are always beautiful.”

He goes to sit down, next to his body, and he allows himself to enjoy the setting sun, a soft, smooth transition to the night.

“Gaz, this is Ghost, how copy?” That is your cue to slow down time again.

“Gaz, how copy?”

“Can I answer him?”

“No, everything you do here, has no influence on the world of the living.”

“Shit, they must be worried.”

“Kyle, how copy?”

“Fuck. Kyle, stay where you are, I am coming.”

Kyle leans back into the grass. “Did you guide Soap too?”

“I did.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was there when he got shot. Guided him to the afterlife too.”

“Did he.. Did he mention me?”

“Mention you? He wanted to stay in my realm until he was sure all three of you could cope.”

Kyle smiles. “He always was a good friend. Did he say anything about me?”

“Only that he was proud of you, and that he should’ve told you more often.”

“He did?”

“I have no benefit in lying.”

Kyle runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the tears in his eyes. “Fuck. I really thought he would’ve been so disappointed in me.”

“He wasn’t. By all means he was telling me how proud he was, how much you had achieved already.”

Kyle’s phone rings, and the screen lights up with the name of his mother, the moment the ringing ends, it starts again immediately. And again. And again. Kyle has a sad look on his face. “I hate that I broke my promise to her.” He admits.

“I understand that.”

“God, she will be so heartbroken.”

“Yes. But you did give her some closure by that voicemail. She will cherish it till the end of her dying days. Even though it was a lie, hearing from you that it didn’t hurt, that you weren’t scared. It will help her heal more than you can imagine.”

Kyle wipes away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. “I am glad. She really is the best you know? Always been supportive of my dreams, even when my father left, she was there for me, always putting me and my sisters first.”

“It sounds like you love her.”

“More than I’ve loved myself.”

You watch Simon approach, his face hidden behind his mask, but the emotion in his eyes is clear. “Fuck, no. Gaz.”

He drops down the body of his friend, searching for a pulse, but the body had gone cold already, and in a moment of emotion, of weakness even, Simon cradles the dead body of his friend. “Not you too man, come on.”

Kyle has to swallow a lump in his throat. “Shit.”

Simon reaches for his radio. “Gaz has been found and identified, Killed in action. I’ll return soon.”

“Will he be okay? I noticed him drinking more after Soap died, and I don’t want him to drink himself to death because of my death.”

“He won’t drink himself to death.”

“Really? Oh god that is a relief.”

He watches, as Simon picks up his body, and carries him away.

“How does the Captain cope?” Kyle asks.

“I can show you?”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

By the gods, that wasn’t a good sight to see, the captain looked at least fifteen years older, the constant smoking now had the company of a bottle of whiskey.

A fourth dog tag on the chain.

“Fuck.” Price muttered. “Fuck, it never gets any fucking easier.”

The fingertips of Price trace the outline of Kyle’s file. “I never should’ve let you go on this mission.”

“I hope he knows I would’ve gone on another dangerous mission if he would’ve declined me this one.” Kyle answers.

“He knows, deep down he knows, but it is easier for you humans to find a way to blame yourself.”

“Will the captain be okay?”

“He will be the last of you four to pass.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh, I guess the captain is tougher than he looks.”

“That he is.”

“And Ghost? Will he be okay?”

“He won’t drink himself to death.”

“Final question, will mom be okay?”

“Your mother? She will never be herself again. She will always miss you, mourn you, but your urn gets a little shrine, and she will never toss out your childhood stuffed animals.”

“How long will it take for her to have me home again?”

“Do you want me to show you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll be able to cope once I see her heartbroken face. Right now all my memories of her are nice ones, and I will break my own heart if I see her grieve.”

“That is fair.”

Kyle looks at his captain again, before he turns to look at you.

“Will I see Soap again?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Once you’ve moved on to the afterlife, your soul will connect with the souls you’ve loved.”

“Can I go now? Simon will be alright, Captain will be alright, and mom will eventually be alright too. I feel like I can leave them now and not be worried.”

Kyle takes a deep breath. “And I would like to catch up with Soap.”

“Very well.”

You hold out your hand to him. “Let me guide you then.”

Simon Riley. You had been following the man ever since he was born. There had been times where he had been ready to leave this earth, only to be pulled back by Life on the last second.

It would be a lie if it wouldn’t make you question whether or not it would be ethical to keep certain people alive. But that wasn’t up to you to judge after all.

Even after he escaped the horror that was his childhood home, death seemed to follow Simon, his hand never steered clear from the blood that stained him.

But this time? This time it was different.

Simon couldn’t cope with the death of Gaz and Soap, leaving him a broken mess. But Simon was taught that feelings, emotions should be hidden inside, piling up until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

So Simon did what he knew best, copying the coping skill of his father, empty bottles piling up just like the feelings piled up inside of him. Whiskey replacing the companionship that his friends no longer could give them, the burning sensation of the liquid making him feel alive, a feeling he thought he didn’t need anymore, but he felt himself craving it, chasing it.

And of course people around him were worried, John tried to talk to him, John had seen this way too often before. Soldiers not being able to cope with the loss, turning to the poison that roamed this earth, alcohol, drugs and self-destruction in the from of women. And John had tried to stop it, tried to warn him, but Simon was a grown man, capable of making his own choices, no matter how destructive.

You knew you had promises Soap and Gaz that Simon wouldn’t drink himself to death, and with the amount of liquor he was pumping into his system, you almost got the feeling you had been lying.

But Simon would bounce back from the alcohol abuse, with the help of his captain that is.

It had been a day like any other, Simon would try to focus on his work, his mind already on the numbing temptation of the liquor, briefings, conversations, details, they would all go past him like a blur while he tried to deceive the people around him. And usually after a day of work, he would lock himself into his quarters, drinking until he forgot his fallen teammates.

“A word.” John’s voice is loud, a little too loud for Simon’s liking.

“About what?”

“You.”

“What is there about me?”

“Why did you join the army?”’

You watch, slightly amused at the low blow John just spat out.

“Don’t you fu-“

“Answer my fucking question, Simon. Why did you join the fucking army.”

And you can tell Simon is struggling to answer that question, hell he doesn’t want to answer that question, because that would mean he could no longer pretend he wasn’t following his fathers footsteps.

“I joined to escape home.”

“And why did you have to escape home?”

“Because my father was an abusive alcoholic.”

“Then tell me, Simon, why the fuck are you turning into your father?”

“Bullshit John.”

“Bullshit? You think you’re sleek, only bringing away the bottles in the early morning. Do you think we really don’t hear the clinking of the glass while you wander these halls? Do you really think no one can smell it on your breath?”

“You don’t get it.”

You had seen John often enough to recognize the subtle anger in his face, flaring nostrils, a slight raise of his brows, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t get it?”

“You have no idea how much their death affected me.”

“I have no idea because you shut yourself out and rather poison yourself.” John spat back at him.

“You have no idea what I have been through Captain, and I would strongly advice you stray away to this topic.”

“You’re right. I did not have your upbringing, and I do wish you dad had healed before he came your father, but you do not get to tell me about grief.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I am affected too. I was the one who asked Soap to come with me to Makarov, I was the one who approved Gaz going on that mission. And I can’t let you drink yourself to death, Simon. I will not be responsible for your death too.”

Both men are silent, straying into territory they are not used too, at least not with each other. Both men had been told that their emotions were forbidden, that emotions should not be on display for others to see.

But you could see their hurt souls, their broken souls, needing the company of each other. John is the first to give in. Holding his arms open and Simon clings on for dear life.

“God fucking damnit boy, get your shit together, that is an order.”

“I forget then when I’m drunk enough.”

“I know. But forgetting them isn’t the way to go. You shouldn’t forget them, celebrate their life because they no longer can.”

“I will, Captain.”

“Good.” John let go off him, giving him a rough pat on his back. “Do you need anything from me, the military?”

“A little time off.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay all by yourself? I can get a therapist for you if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“Good. Now, get some rest, I’ll pull some strings to get you someone to talk to.”

“Thanks Cap, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon.”

Something was off, something was different, and John couldn’t really put his finger on it, but decided to not press any further. He had nagged Simon long enough and it felt as if his point had come across good enough.

Simon on the other hand, felt a calm feeling he hadn’t experienced before. A decision crossing his mind when he gripped his sink, tears streaming down his face when he recognized his father in the mirror. Simon knew he wouldn’t be strong to recover, he had become an alcoholic, just like his father.

“Fuck!” His fist slams the mirror, the second one this year, blood running down his arm while he takes in the freedom the pain gives him. His mind is only giving him one solution, the emotions, his grief, the craving to alcohol, they’re making it impossible to think straight.

Simons scribbles something down on a piece of paper. Before he takes a deep breath and looks around his room. John had been right, Simon thought it had alle been under control, but he was lying to himself, the half full bottles being the proof of that, but not anymore, not any longer.

He takes place in his own bathtub, a piece of glass gripped tightly in his right hand. You know what is about to happen and this is always your least favourite part.

He doesn’t drink himself to death.

Tears blur his vision when the sharp material pierces his skin, dragging down. He doesn’t even register the pain, all he can feel is the peace and quiet his mind gives him. So he does it again, and again, going deeper each time.

His head tilts back and he drops the shard of glass, causing it to shatter on the ground.

It stays silent, the only sound is his blood dripping on the floor of the bathtub. Life is nowhere to be seen, and you know this is his end. In a split second you make a decision.

The universe had been too unkind to Simon already, the least you could do was to make sure he didn’t have to die alone.

“Hello.”

“What the fuck are you? How the fuck did you get in?” His eyes snap open and his head snaps back to face you.

“I am Death.”

“Did I die already?”

“Not yet.”

“Than why the fuck are you here?”

“Because this will kill you, and I did not want you to die alone.”

“Well thanks for your concern but I don’t need your pity.”

“Gaz and Soap did not have to die alone.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Gaz and Soap did not have to die alone.”

“How the fuck would you know?”

You chuckle softly. “I guided them too.”

His face softens. “How.. What.. What did they say?”

“Soap was pissed off, Gaz was worried he had let his mother down.”

“Sounds like them.”

“It is nearly your time, Simon.”

“Will the pain stop?”

“When you’re dead? Yes, yes the pain will stop.”

“I can’t wait to be pain free.”

“Tell me about your favourite memory?”

“Of what?”

“Anything you please.”

Simon has to think for a little while.

“My brother.” He eventually starts. “Had gotten a part time job, and he needed to give the money to our father, but he had hidden his first pay check. So when our father was passed out on the couch again, we snuck out.” A smile forms on his face.

“We bought a cake, one of those fancy ones with a lot of frosting. We ate it in the skatepark where we used to hangout a lot. I ate so much cake I couldn’t stand it for the longest time afterwards. But for the time that it took for us to eat that cake, we were happy, not a care in the world, just loads of sugar and each other.”

He hadn’t noticed yet, but the shackles of life had fallen off during his story, setting him free of his mortal pain.

“I miss him.”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, more than anything.”

“How’s the pain, Simon?”

“Which pa- Oh fuck.”

You watch as he gets up from the bathtub, looking at his body, he died smiling, his eyes closed, almost looking happy.

“You deserved better.”

“I did.” He agrees.

Simon clears his throat. “So what now? You take me to hell and I’ll burn for eternity?”

“Why would you burn in hell?”

“I am a soldier, I killed people. People who deserved it, and people who might not have deserved it.”

“And that is equal to eternal suffering?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Don’t you think you have suffered enough?”

His face turns pale, the words slowly sinking in while he recalls his whole life.

“So there is no hell for me?” his voice is a soft whisper.

“There is no hell for you.”

“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck I was so scared for hell, that had been the only thing holding me back from killing myself earlier.”

“So” He looks at his body again. “What would be next?”

“Once you are ready, I’ll take you to the afterlife.”

“How do I know I’ll be ready?”

“You’ll feel it.”

“I don’t feel it yet.”

“Then you can stay with me.”

He nods, liking the answers that you’ve given him. “I have some questions.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Can I ask them?”

“Of course. I’ll answer them if I have the answer.”

“How do you know which soul to reap?”

“I just know.”

“Okay, and now you are here with me, does that mean no one else dies on the world.”

“If that was the case a lot of deaths would’ve been postponed.” You answer. “I can split myself into fragments, therefor I am able to reap multiple souls.”

“How did you, you know, get into this profession?”

“I was created to be Death. It is all I have ever known, and it is all I will ever know.”

“Hm.” His eyes shift to his body again.

“What is the afterlife, and who will be there?”

“Everyone will be there, every soul goes to the afterlife, and you’ll reconnect with the souls that love you.”

Simon has to swallow a lump in his throat, he wants to say something but is interrupted by a knock on the door. “Simon?” John’s ruff voice sounds.

“Can I answer him?”

“Afraid not.”

“Simon!” the knocking returns. “I swear to God.” John mutters, as he opens the door to Simon’s room. “If you have been drinking again.”

John looks around the room, and you and Simon watch him do so. John’s gaze fall on the piece of paper, his face turning pale. “God fucking damnit.” The paper falls on the ground, slowly twirling in the air before it gently settles down.

‘this isn’t your fault.’ Even though you knew what would be on the letter your eyes automatically shift to the words on the white paper.

Johns open the door to Simon’s bathroom, and he just stand in the door opening, taking in the dead body of his teammate. “God damn it, Simon.” He repeats. “You could’ve talked to me you know.”

John moves over to the body, taking in the smile on Simon’s face. “At least you were happy.” John mutters.

His hands reach for Simon’s dog tags, taking one of the chain to add to his own. John’s fingertips rest on Simon’s cheek for a brief moment. “I hope death treats you better than life.”

Simon looks at you. “You do.”

“Thank you.”

“Will the Captain be okay?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I feel bad, for leaving him behind, for doing this.”

“He’ll understand, and when his time will come too, I’ll tell him about you.”

“Thank you.”

Simon looks at his feet. “I don’t know if you can do this, but I want to visit Johnny.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to go to the Scottish Highlands, to the place where we set his ashes free.”

You hold out your hand to him. “I’ll take you there.”

Simon’s eyes light up as he takes your hand into his, and before he can blink twice, you’ve transported the both of you to the exact same place.

“I forgot how beautiful it was here.” Simon says, as he sits down on the exact same spot where Johnny had sat down, and you can’t help but smile, knowing that their souls are happy together in another universe.

You go to sit down next to him. “It is beautiful here.”

The both of you sit in silence, you know Simon wants to ask you something, a question burning within him ever since John had interrupted, but you’re not filling anything in, letting Simon come to you when he is ready.

“You mentioned something about souls and love.” Simon eventually says.

“I did.”

“Who will be waiting for me?”

A faint hint of a smile can be seen on your face.

“More than you’ll expect.”

“Tommy?”

You just nod and Simon let out a shaky breath.

“It has been a while since I’ve seen him, I’ve missed him terribly. Who else?”

“Tommy, Beth, Joseph, your mother. Roach. Gaz, Soap. They will all be there.”

“Will they be mad for what I did?”

“They love you too much to be mad.”

“I’ve known more love death, than I’ve done alive.”

You turn to look at him. “I know, and I am sorry.”

“Is there anything I had done to deserve such a life?”

You want to wince, flinch at his words, but it is a fair question.

“No. Sometimes the universe isn’t fair when it gives somebody a course of life. You were a child, Simon. What happened to you, should’ve never happened, not to you, not to anyone.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re brave.” You add. “You’ve survived something you shouldn’t have had to face in the first place.”

“How do you cope with it?” Simon asks.

“With what?”

“The unfairness?”

You let out a sigh. “It is hard. Sometimes I have to guide innocent souls to the afterlife, souls I would have wished had a long and sweet life. And sometimes I see souls who I felt deserved death a long time ago. Unfortunately I cannot change the course of the universe, nor can I change the free will of humans.”

“Do you feel remorse?”

“No. I am no mortal, nor do I possess mortal feelings. I do however acknowledge the unfairness of certain situations.”

“I see. It is hard for me to imagine.”

“I get that.”

“Hey Death?”

“Yes, Simon?”

“Do you promise that they will be waiting for me in the afterlife?”

“I promise.”

Simon holds out his hand to you. “Then please, let me see them again.”

John Price.

The man had seen more than enough death for a lifetime. Yet it wouldn’t be the last of it. Being a soldier signed him up to a lifetime of death and despair. But unlike the others, John seemed to accept it a whole lot better. Yes he did feel guilty, yes he wished life could’ve turned out different, for him, for his team, for all of them.

But it didn’t, so he had to learn how to cope.

Even though you know his time isn’t there yet, you decide to follow him around, just a little more, just to see how he would cope. That is what you would tell yourself anyway, maybe you had been getting a little attached to this group of men.

You watch John approach the cemetery, four bouquets of flowers in his hands, a picnic basket hanging on his arm while he walks, silence lingering around him, and if he were in company, they would feel the tension surrounding him. But John is alone, except for your company, who would’ve guessed Death would’ve be such good company?

Three out of the four bouquets get placed on the ground, alongside the picnic basket, number four, a bouquet of tulips. Yellow tulips. John places them on the first grave, his hand brushes away the dirt on the gravestone. “Well, for someone whose nickname is Soap, it sure gets dirty quick.” John chuckles at his own joke. John kneels down at the grave, removing some of the weeds that had grown, using his hand to brush the rest of the gravestone clean.

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” He mutters. “Sorry I dragged you along to that mission. I’m sorry you had to catch the bullet meant for me.” John awkwardly pats the gravestone.

“If I had known that would be our last moment together, I would’ve spent the car ride to our destination telling you how proud I am of you.” He speaks, and while John knows that no one will hear his words, it feels good to get them off his chest.

“I would tell you how good you’re doing, how much you’ve grown. How much we all appreciated you. How we all enjoyed your jokes, even though some of us would rather perish than tell you that.”

“You probably already know, but Kyle and Simon joined you.”

“I wish I could have prevented this. Kyle.. He slipped right between my fingers, I never thought he would push and push the way he did, Johhny. I thought I was keeping him safe, keeping him busy, but in reality I was allowing him to die.”

John swallows the lump in his throat. “And Simon. I think I knew what was happening, I thought I knew what was going on, but I was wrong, so, so, so wrong.”

John takes a deep breath, inhaling the cold air into his lungs, before he slowly exhales. “You’ve been one hell of a soldier, Johnny, but more important, you’ve been an amazing person. I’ll see you again on the other side, take care of the boys for me, will ya?”

With a grunt John gets up from his knees, taking a new bouquet of flowers.

A colourful bouquet of freesias is put down in front of the next grave and John lets out a sigh again, staring into the distance. It is hard to read his face, and you can’t figure out what he is thinking.

“I’ve heard a lot of gut wrenching sounds, Kyle.” He finally speaks. “But I’ll never forget the screams of your mother when I had to confirm your death. The wailing will never leave my mind. I can’t erase it, no matter how hard I try.”

The captain uses his hand once more to brush some dirt of the gravestone, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m sorry.” He says once more.

“I really wanted to believe life had so much in store for you. I should never had let you take on that mission, Kyle. I should’ve seen the signs, the desperate attempt to prove yourself to me, to Johnny, maybe even to Simon too.”

“But the truth is, boy, you never had to prove yourself in the first place. We all saw your potential, we all saw the amazing leader you could’ve become.” John runs a hand through his short hair. “I really wish we could’ve talked about this more. I really wish you would’ve told me you didn’t feel good enough, Kyle. I could’ve shown you my point of view.”

“But, we can’t undo what happened.” John continues. “I hope you can finally feel enough.”

“Your mother misses you. Your sisters too. Simon missed you. But I’m sure he has told you by now. Or not, we both know how he can be.”

“I.. I miss you too, Kyle. I would’ve loved for you to follow my footsteps.” John sighs again. “Simon couldn’t cope, but you already know that. Take care of him, yeah? I know he probably doesn’t want it, but he missed you and Johnny.”

John gives a final pat on the gravestone. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

He takes the third bouquet, a large bouquet of sunflowers, it is being put down on the newest gravestone. “Fucking hell, Simon.” He grunts. “Out of all people, I never thought you would do it. I thought I had it under control with you.”

“At least you had a smile on your face, and I wonder what went through your mind in your final moment.” A sad smile forms on John’s face. “I hope you’re at peace now.”

“Out of all their deaths, yours haunts me the most, Simon.” He confesses. “Because with yours it felt like I really could have changed the outcome, you know.” John kneels down next to the grave.

“I.. I.. I never got to say this Simon, but I am sorry that I compared you to your father. I was trying to get my point across and I’ve used words that I shouldn’t have used. I knew it was a low blow to mention him, and I’m sorry.” He rests his hand on the gravestone. “I hope my words didn’t push you over the edge, and I know you have made that little note for me, but I can’t help but feel guilty.”

John sighs once more, looking at the sunflowers on the ground. “I.. You didn’t have a home I could send you too, like Kyle, so I’ve spread your ashes on the same spot where we send Johnny home. I hope you’re okay with it.” He adds, with a meek smile.

“You’ve been one of the toughest people I’ve ever known in my life, and I’ve met a lot of tough motherfuckers, Simon. But you? You’ve bounced back from everything.”

“And no matter how guilty I feel, the fact that you had a smile on your face brings me a little bit of peace.”

“I hope that wherever you are, that you found your people again in the afterlife. That there will be enough souls waiting for you, to show you how loved you’ve always been.” John gets up from his knees again. “Don’t try to give the other too much shit, but keep them in check for me, yeah?”

He let his gaze fall on the three graves in front of him, a sad smile on his lips once more. His hand goes to the dog tags around his neck, there are too many to just be from one person. His gaze lingers on the names engraved in the stones.

John MacTavish

Kyle Garrick

Simon Riley

“It has been an honour. An honour to have known you all, an honour to have fought alongside you. The biggest honour has been to call you all my brothers in arms.” His voice is clear, never wavering as he pays his final respect, as he says his final goodbye.

“I promise you three that I’ll keep your graves in check, for as long as I live. I don’t care if they’re empty, they will forever be a reminder that you have all existed. Your legacy will live on.”

“I miss you all, until we meet again.”

After a final salute he picks up the last of the bouquets and the picnic baskets, and he walks further up the cemetery, walking past a grave that reads Herschel Shepherd. John gives the grave a quick nod. “You make me wish hell did exist.” He grumbles, flipping the headstone off. “Should’ve done it earlier.”

He continues to walk until he reaches another grave, putting down the picnic basket and the flowers, before he kneels down again, taking out a brush to gently sweep away any dirt.

Jenny Price

“I’m back again, love.” He sighs, as he tidies up the grave, making sure to pull the weeds, but leave the flowers that have grown intact. “It has been a while since I’ve visited, but I have a good reason, I promise.” He added with a chuckle.

He gets up after the stone is clean again, her name can be read again, and he takes a step back to admire his work. “Got you all cleaned up. Looking pretty as ever.”

He opens the picnic basket, taking out a blanket to lay it on the ground next to the stone. A bouquet of heliotropes, forget-me-nots and carnations. John sits down on the blanket, next to the gravestone.

“Next month..” He sighs, something he has done a lot this evening. “Next month, you’ll be gone for fourteen years now, Jen. And I still miss you as if it is the first day.”

He rests his head against the stone. “I miss the boys.” He whispers, almost as if he is afraid to confess it to her. “Blaming myself for it too. If you see them, take care of ‘m for me, please. Show them the love you’ve shown me.”

He takes out a small bottle of wine, and a cigar, leaving the picnic basket open. “I can only hope that Death guided them, the way you have been guided.”

“It’s been nearly fourteen year, love, and I still wake up in the middle of the night, searching for you, hoping you’ve just been in the bathroom and you’ll come back to lay next to me. I would give everything, Jen, and I mean everything, to just hold you once more, to feel your soft skin against mine again.”

“Being a captain, having my own taskforce, it all means less when I can’t share it with you. It all means so little, knowing that I won’t be able to hold you again, to hear your sweet voice ever again.” John opens up the bottle of wine he had brought, taking out the cork before he takes a swig, not bothering to take a glass. “You know.” He chuckled softly. “If I close my eyes and focus really hard. I can even hear you scold me again for drinking wine straight out of the bottle.”

“I finally had an orange again.” He mutters. “They apparently make special tools to help you peel them. So I can finally eat them again. It has been fourteen years, and I finally had an orange again.” He shakes his head. “I cried. I cried while eating it, the taste reminded me so much of you, the scent of the peel almost intoxicating. I remember how your hands would smell like orange the whole day after you’ve peeled mine. And I miss it, Jen. Fuck, I miss it so much.”

He falls silent, a stark contrast with the floodgates of words that spilled over his lips just seconds ago. His voice cracking when he speaks again. “It has always been you.”

“No other woman comes even close to you. It is weird, but I don’t even want another woman, I don’t feel the need to see someone, feel someone. Hell, I prefer to lay alone in that large bed, because when I fall asleep, you’re waiting for me in my dreams. You’re there, waiting for me to come home again.”

You’ve been watching him, while you sat on the nearby bench. Jenny Price. You remember reaping her soul, her husband had walked in on you, and he was the first mortal to see you, and to live to tell the story. But John kept it hidden, maybe that is why he had grown so strong, so tough, because he knew that death wouldn’t be an ugly thing, but an old friend waiting for you to come home again.

You’ve seen enough, as you get up from the bench. His time isn’t there yet, and you have enough to do anyway. Your gaze lingers on the captain, his head resting on the gravestone, his eyes closed as he brings up the memories he has with his late wife. It has become routine for him at this point, talking to her after a mission, visiting her whenever he could, keeping her grave as clean as he could. But for now you let him be. He deserved to have this little peace of mind before he would get sucked into the chaos of his day to day life.

Life goes on for the both of you, you have been reaping souls, he has been doing missions, neither of you meeting, although you take away the lives he has ended.

But his end is near, creeping up behind him, lurking in the shadows. Maybe he could feel it, maybe it was the universe apologising for taking away his wife, for taking away his teammates, but John finds himself at the cemetery again, talking to his old teammates, making sure that the weeds have been pulled, the flowers are fresh again. He updates them on his life, on the missions.

“We’ve done it.” He sighs, to no grave in particular. “We found Makarov. And I’ve put a bullet between his eyes, Johnny. Made sure he knew it was in your name. You should have seen the look on his face.”

And you remember, taking Makarov’s soul, it was safe to say the Rus was less than pleased, especially that John took his soul.

“Your mom is doing well, Kyle. She is still grieving as much as a mother does, but she is doing well. She finally got you that golden retriever you wanted as a kid. Named it Gaz, in your honour. Your sister graduated from her studies. She made sure to mention you in her speech. You would be so proud, Kyle.”

“And Simon, we have a mental health program dedicated to you, making sure that we can talk more open on base about mental health. So we can prevent that others feel the need to do what you did. You’ll live on.”

He moves on, once more laying out the blanket next to the grave of his late wife, sitting down next to her again. “There we are love.” He said with a grunt, lighting his cigar.

His gaze falls on the sky, looking at the setting sun. “You’re looking beautiful tonight.” He tells her. “I like it when you paint the sky orange. I never realised orange was my favourite colour until I found you in the sky every day.”

Maybe he could feel it, maybe your presence was looming to much on a cemetery. But John closes his eyes, breathing in the cold air into his lungs. He opens his eyes, seeing you in front of him.

“It is good to see you again, old friend.” He says.

“Hello.”

“Oh, you can skip the formalities.” He grunts. “I always thought I would die on the battlefield, not next to Jenny.”

“It has become a full circle, she passed in your arms, you will pass next to her gravestone.”

His eyes flash dark when he is reminded of how his wife had passed. “I never got to thank you for guiding Jenny.”

“It is what I do.”

“I know, but still. She was so scared, and you took that fear away.”

“I am glad that I could do it.”

“So, it is my time then.”

“Mhm, it is your call.” You respond. “But it will happen within the next few minutes.”

“Hm.” He answers with a murmur, as he rests his head against her gravestone again. “Wake me up when it’s done.”

You take place on the bench again, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath, his breathing turning steady as he falls asleep next to her gravestone. Sleeping together one last time.

You’re a patient creature, you have all the time in the world, so you wait, wait until his chest stops, until his heart stops beating. Before you can say a thing his soul leaves his body. John doesn’t talk to you yet, instead, he looks at his body, resting against the gravestone of his late wife.

“What a sight.” He sighs, turning to you.

And you just nod.

John turns to you. “I imagine that I also get to ask some questions before you bring me to the afterlife.”

“Anything you wish.”

John’s soul walks over to the bench you’re sitting on, having a view of the graves of his teammates and his late wife. “Do you think I am a bad person?”

“I am in no position to answer that question. For me and Life there is no such thing as a good person and a bad person. You all just exist with free will, and it is up to you how you use it.”

“If you were human, you would be a politician.” John snickers at his own joke.

You let out a sound that represents a huff. “Is this you calling me a bad person?”

“Only if you would be a British politician.”

“I would rather stay Death.”

He looks at the upcoming moon. “Did you guide my teammates too?”

“All of them.”

If he would be still alive he would be releasing a breath. “Glad you did.”

“They all wanted to know how you would cope.”

“They did?”

“Mhm.”

“Guess they cared more than I thought.”

“Of course they did.”

“Why was Simon smiling?”

“Why would I have something to do with it?”

“Because I know you wouldn’t have want him to die alone.”

“That much is true. I asked him his favourite memory. So he could die thinking about something happy.”

“And Kyle’s mother told me he has tried to call her and left a voicemail, I assume that is your doing too?”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Kyle’s upbringing was different from Simon’s.”

“As Death I do not discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. Life can be difficult and unfair enough. Why would I make their process of dying hard too?”

“That.. I.. I never thought about it that way.”

“I had no reason to grand you and Jenny some more time together, I had no reason to explain the afterlife to her, or to answer her questions about dying. Yet I did. Just like the universe does not need reasons to allow events in someone’s life to happen.”

“I see. Well, I think it is beautiful.”

John looks at his body, limped against the gravestone of his late wife.

“How did I die?”

“Your heart gave out.”

“Guess all those years of cigars, whiskey and stress finally caught up on me.” He chuckled. “I never noticed anything though, I mean I’ve been a little tired lately, but thought that was just the stress.”

You just tilt your head.

“Oh.”

“Heart diseases are something else.” You sigh. “A silent killer.”

“Learned that the hard way.”

His gaze shifts from his body to the gravestone next to him and he holds out his hand.

“As much as I liked seeing you again old friend, I am ready to go home, for the first time in fourteen years.”

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thewulf · 11 months

Text

Just Keep Swimming || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Hi there! If it's not too much trouble can I ask for a hangman x fem!reader kinda enemy to lover fic? There's a new squadron coming to top gun and there is some tension between the two squadron... Read Rest Here

A/N: Another long one! Little bit of made of squadron stuff to make the story flow/work better. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 9.4k +

“Dory!” Your head snapped up from the manual you were staring at, hopelessly lost in thought, “Are you paying attention, Lieutenant?” Your captain, Kasper, stepped forward eyeing you. He knew you were gone, lost in your head. You didn’t garner your callsign from just any Dory. Too often you’d be lost in thought almost ignoring anything your leadership was trying to teach you. It drove them mad. But it was just you. It helped that you were a damn good pilot. A really good pilot, exceptional even. Best in your squadron. You’d worked hard to be in that position. Putting in more flight hours than anybody around you almost combined. If you wanted to be the best, you had to beat the best. You always knew that.

“Yes Cap.” Nodding your head with the smallest smile spread across your lips you waited for his reaction.

Shaking his head as he stepped forward, he stopped in front of you table, “What did I say about calling me that? Care to share what I was just saying?” He asked glaring right at you. Although he couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that to his lips. You just drew that reaction out of him.

“The enemy will have fighter jets far superior to ours.” Ignoring his first question you paused flashing him the grin you always did when you won the little battle you were having with him, “Which begs the question, what’s our military spending all that money with?” Leaning back in the seat you watched for his reaction intently. This is what you loved to do, flip it around and put the heat on him.

You’d earned a few snickers from your fellow pilots. You’d always been the firecracker of the group. Sort of a loose cannon. You’d argued that it was because you were the only female in the squadron. You had to be a little tougher. A little snarkier. It worked for you though. When you’d finally landed in your squadron, you’d gelled with almost everybody

“That’s a good question. Take it up with the admiral next time you see him.” He sighed knowing better than to challenge you. Even when it didn’t look like you were paying attention you were always listening. You always had to be on. It wasn’t an option for you. If you weren’t on that’d be an excuse to remove you from the group. You’d never be the reason.

You nodded your head taking in what he said, “You know Kasper, I just might. That’s a really good idea.” You grinned seeing the slightly horrified expression. You really just might. You hadn’t a problem taking anything up with your captain. Why not try a little higher?

“Alright, onto the news. We’ll be traveling to Miramar for the next month.” He broke the news so casually it earned confused glances from everybody in the classroom. Miramar meant Top Gun. What in the absolute hell were you being called back to Top Gun for?

“Top Gun?” Cairo, another pilot, asked after registering what he really meant.

His smirk grew to a smile as he remembered his time there. He seemed equally as thrilled as the guys as soon as they realized, “We’re all getting called back to Top Gun. Joining the Dagger Squadron on a mission in Russia.”

Leaning back in the seat you decided to simply listen. Listening as the men erupted in both happiness and confusion. A few with annoyed looks knowing they’d be far away from family for a while. You didn’t know how to feel. It’s probably something dangerous. The last mission you went on being very short of successful it was hard to comprehend going in and doing something even harder.

The Navy employs four separate groups of elite pilots with the best rising pilots as the elder pilots aged out and promoted up. The squadrons consisted of the Dagger Squad stationed at Top Gun in Miramar. Your squad, the Red Rippers out of Virginia. The Wolves down in Texas and the Ace Squad in Nevada.

You’d been stationed in Virginia for the last four years. With the Rippers Squad for the last three. It had been a while since your Squadron flew something incredibly dangerous. The last mission just consisted of you and Red. They didn’t have the semi-fear that you felt hearing that statement.

You’d listened as all the men around you turned from confusion to cheering in glee. Most of them craved the danger. Danger made you nervous. You had to hide your fears as you feigned a smile. Playing into the cheers.

“A joint training for four weeks followed by a week-long deployment. Captain Mitchell, Maverick, will have more details when we arrive.”

You’d never been on a joint mission between two squads. You’d heard it happen before, but it wasn’t very common. Whatever the hell the mission was must’ve been serious though. Joint trainings were serious business that the Navy spent lots of money on. You knew you had to impress. You needed to redeem yourself. Fly a successful mission. Whatever the hell it took.

“Ten pilots. Five wizzo’s. Will be dropping ten successive bombs over a large intelligence base off the coast of Russia. It’s gone nearly undetected for almost five years. They don’t have a clue we’re onto them though. One pilot to one wingman with a wizzo. Each pair will drop two long range laser guided bomb over a designated part of the facility. The wizzo will guide both bombs in. We’ll be practicing heavily on the drop. There’s hardly any security and we’re planning a Tomahawk attack on the runway.” Mav paused making sure each student was listening. He didn’t know your squadron at all, but he sure had everybody’s attention. You looked around counting everybody. Twenty pilots and ten weapons systems officers gave Mav their full attention.

“You’re a shoe-in.” Jax, one of your very best friends leaned over while poking your side. He never let you forget just how good you actually were.

You shook your head, “You don’t know that. You don’t know how good they are. Didn’t they just like blow up a Uranium plant last year? Living legends.”

He rolled his eyes, “You beat Kasper yesterday Y/N.” It wasn’t often that he was beat, but it always seemed to be at your hands. Still, he got you a majority of the time. For every ten times he beat you, you beat him once in the midst.

“The place must be huge if it needs ten bombs to level it.” Steering the conversation away from topic of you and back onto the mission you didn’t love bragging about yourself. The confidence you exuded was entirely manufactured for visuals

“Five million square feet. Two bombs per million square feet. Rapid succession within twenty seconds of each other. We can’t give them enough time for their defense to scramble. The good news is they’ve never had to worry about any attacks. So, they’ll be a little rusty. We’re going to be testing that. We’ll be dealing with SAM’s. Potentially drones. Recon’s doing more research on the base and its defenses now to confirm. Any questions?” Maverick continued bulldozing through the small side conversations that erupted at each pair at a table.

You nodded your head. You liked him. To the point and simple. He reminded you a lot of your captain, Kasper. He continued as he answered other aviator’s questions. You went into your own head imagining the mission. It didn’t sound overly complicated. Get in, get out and get home.

“Alright, planes up in fifteen.” Mav ordered bringing you right back to the present, “We’ll have Hangman against Dory first. Coyote and Berlin after.”

“Oh, this oughta be easy.” The blonde one laughed patting his partner’s shoulder.

His comment piqued your interest more than you wanted to admit. You didn’t really want to start a fight this early, but he was the one that spoke out first, “Why do you say that?” You turned around asking the man in row in front of you. You really should’ve just walked away. You were sure your first impression of the cocky guy was about to reign true, an utter asshole.

“Honey, you’re walking onto our base. No offense.” He smirked seeing the anger grow slightly on your face. He just loved getting a rise out of anybody that he possibly could, “But if you really have to know sweetheart. We’re the best of the best. Each one of us is better than each one of you.”

You hummed a little amused by the whole situation. This man was cockier than ever. Even finishing his comment with a dazzling smile, you were sure always worked for him. God, you’ve dealt with hundreds of these dickheads too many times before.

Taking a peek behind you, you noticed almost the entirely of your squadron paused turning to this guy. You didn’t like the expression on any of their faces. It seemed like Hangman had already pissed half his squadron off already too, “I wasn’t aware the air is magically different here. We don’t believe in home field advantage.” You laughed softly looking over at Jax who was nodding his head in agreement. The entirety of the squad had your back. Making sure you were good before they went to go get changed.

“We’ll see about that. In the air.” He paused eyeing you. Giving you a once over. Seemingly not used to getting talked back to. It made you smile. You loved taking people out of their comfort zone. It’s how you got to where you were.

You nodded beginning to walk out, “We sure will Hangman. Can’t wait to see you up there.” You’d noticed his last name was Seresin from his name plate. Connecting the dots, you put two and two together. This guy was the one with the second most live air kills, behind Maverick. It was no wonder he was such an arrogant asshole. You wondered how you’d fair in a dogfight had you been given the chance to try. All the missions you flew on were long range missile drops. You hardly encountered any air-to-air combat in your time.

You got the last word as you made a beeline towards the locker room changing for the training session. This was the worst. When your anxiety got the best of you. Nerves so deep it felt like you were choking on them. Luckily your thoughts were interrupted as you heard footsteps come from the entrance of the locker room, “Ignore him. He’s an asshole.” She walked closer holding her hand out, “Natasha, Phoenix.”

Taking it in yours you smiled, “We’ve both dealt with hundreds of him by now, I’m sure. What’s another?”

Her soft snicker could have been taken as innocent, “Hangman is… a very special breed. One of a kind I’m afraid.”

You nodded zipping the front of the suit all the way up. Checking your hair repositioned a few bobby pins making sure no hairs were out of place, “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind. Y/N. Dory.”

“I’ve heard good things.”

You smiled, “Likewise. So, what’s his deal?”

She shrugged, “We call him Bagman for a reason. He’ll leave you high and dry for a shot any day. He’ll play by the rules though. Watch your back.”

You nodded along adjusting your helmet to better fit, “Noted. Watch out for the dickhead.”

That earned a laugh from your fellow pilot, “To say the very least. Good luck out there and please, kick his sorry ass. He needs a good humbling.”

You grinned, “You got it.” Walking out of the locker room you felt that surge of confidence you always felt when you walked to your plane. Man did you love your job.

Being in the air was like nothing else. It came so naturally to you. You flew closely behind Kasper while Hangman flew closely behind Maverick.

“Alright. No going below the hard deck. Hard deck is 2000 feet. No other rules. Fight how you see fit.” Maverick’s voice broke you from the daydream you were in. No rules and a hard deck that low? This was about to be so much fun.

“Mav and I will be in the air to monitor.” Kasper spoke quickly after Mav wrapped it up. You nodded along, easy enough. You’d done these training exercises hundreds of times with the guys in your squad. How much harder could it be with Hangman really?

“What’s the punishment for Dory when she loses?” Hangman chided in before Mav could give you the green light. All you could do was laugh. This fella sure was cocky.

“250 sit-ups for the loser.” You wouldn’t dare let him get the last word in. Plus, you knew how fucking hard sit-ups were for the men in your squadron. They always started crying at 150 while you flew through them, they were cake for you. Just another day of training really.

“That’s a hell of a punishment.” Kasper spoke up. You knew he was shaking his head in that cockpit. He was always shaking his head with a smile on his face. You never ceased to surprise him.

“I like it.” Mav agreed with you, “250 sit-ups for the first person to get shot down. It’s going to be a dogfight. On my command. Go.”

You dove immediately. Your plan was to lose him low in the mountains. They gave you a 20 square mile range to fly in, which wasn’t a lot. The closer you got to the hard deck the harder it would be for him to detect you. You didn’t have time to pay attention to what he was doing. That might’ve been a mistake as he found you easily and was on your tail immediately. You heard your radar beeping as he tried to lock onto to you.

Well shit, he might’ve been better than you were planning to give him credit for. Eyes narrowing you pushed it a little faster to get into the mountains. It was so much easier to dodge lock when you were constantly moving side to side.

“Darling, this is too easy.” He nearly locked on to your jet before you dove even further. He followed relentlessly as you dodged and swerved through the canyons and valleys of the mountain.

“Where are you off too?” He questioned as you pushed him to his limits. It’s a known fact that shorter women pilots were able to take the g-forces far better than their much taller counterparts. But he was handling this well. You just had to hit all those turns just a little bit harder.

You couldn’t seem to shake him as he kept pace with you. It wasn’t easy and you were making it absolutely impossible to get a lock on which was beginning to piss him off. Usually, it only took him a few minutes to take someone out. You were much, much smarter than the guys in his unit. He should’ve known as the only person that could beat him was Natasha. The women had the brains, and he knew it. And you seemed to be even more strategic than Phoenix as you kept diving and rising just to throw him off even further.

And those brains paid off. You knew you couldn’t do this forever. Kasper and Mav would come in and shoot the both of you down. It wasn’t supposed to be a game of cat and mouse but a dogfight instead. Checking out the map you found a straightaway that would let you go up and over without risk of hitting the mountain side.

Hangman was giddy when he saw where you were heading. This was his only literal shot he could get on you. What he certainly didn’t expect was for you begin pulling some Maverick moves. Moves that not even Kasper dared to try. Moves that made even Hangman a little leery to try. Kasper always claimed he loved his life too much to pull the ‘shit that you do’ off.

You pulled up. Before Hangman could follow, he watched as your wings turned down almost stopping you in mid-air nearly halting your speed down to zero knots. Hangman darted right past you. ‘Gotcha’ you whispered to yourself as you hit the stick forward beginning to chase him down.

“Easy my ass.” You giggled speeding right back up hightailing it behind him.

“Fucking serious?” Hangman grumbled as he realized he was now being chased, the mouse. This simply didn’t happen to him. He tried to think fast but you were faster.

“As a damn heart attack, sweetheart.” You locked on before shooting him down.

“Fuck.” Hangman sighed hitting his head against the stick.

“Damn. Good work Dory. That’s a kill.” Maverick chimed back in, “Go ahead and land. Jake, you got 250. Don’t short them.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be counting.” You chimed in. Hearing Kasper’s hearty laugh. You knew you made him oh so proud. He defended you until his face was blue. You had to repay him by backing up your mouth that often ran a too far. You hadn’t let him down though. You backed it right on up.

“There’s really no need for that.” Hangman grumbled as you followed him back down to the runway. Both Mav and Kasper were staying up so long as they had fuel guiding the next groups up.

“There really is.” You countered knowing you were slowly driving him up a wall.

“Has anybody ever told you that you were annoying?” You could hear the frustration dripping through his responses. The laugh that followed was sincere.

“All the damn time. In fact, Jax told me that I was this morning.”

“Christ.” He sighed descending down to the landing strip. Coyote and Berlin were lined up ready to take off once the two of you landed.

“Did I just hear a good old Christian country boy take the lords name in vain?” You gasped knowing exactly how to press his buttons. He sure was special but you knew exactly what to do to keep that bark back inside him.

“I’m not responding anymore.” He grumbled. Somehow you knew he had a stupid little smile on his face. You had a big ass smile on your face as you hopped out of the cockpit of your jet once you landed.

Hangman stood by his jet holding his helmet looking pissed at himself. You nearly skipped over thrilled you got the upper hand so easily against him.

“Good job up there.” He grumbled as you approached.

“Is that a compliment?”

He nodded, “One and only.”

You grinned, “I’m honored. Thanks Jake. Now get to it.”

The two of you chatted causally back and forth. The front that he had in front of the other guys nearly vanishing as you started talking. The conversation surprisingly coming very easily between the two of you. Something you hardly expected at the beginning of the day. You wished you knew how rare of an occurrence this was.

“You guys coming to the Hard Deck tonight?” He asked as he finished up the 250. Naturally he did it with ease and didn’t even complain to you once. You had to admit that Phoenix was right. There was something so different about this man.

“That depends. Are we allowed?” You smirked sensing the tension between the two groups of nearly all men early on in the day. You and Natasha got along easily enough the boys should’ve been able to do the same. Naturally, the Dagger Squad wasn’t too thrilled about your groups appearance, especially on their base. There was bound to be undeniable tension. You thought they’d get over it. But no, they could never. They were like dogs marking their territory everywhere.

“You graduated from Top Gun, right?” Jake was full of Jokes. Every class in Top Gun seemed to make their way to the Hard Deck. It was right around the corner from the base, and it was easy going, The two things pilots needed.

Rolling your eyes you nodded, “We’ll be there.”

“I’ll buy you a beer.”

You shook your head while standing up, “No need.”

“Why? Got yourself a man back home?” He smirked wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t. I can pay for my own drinks. Nothing good happens when a guy buys you a drink.” You hummed beginning your walk back to the locker room. He followed like a little golden retriever puppy right behind you.

“I’d disagree with that.”

“You have your opinions, I have mine.” You shrugged trying your best to keep him behind you. Unlucky for you his stride was much longer than yours, catching up to you like it was nothing.

“Come on sweetheart. Just one?”

“Why are you so adamant Hangman?” You returned his question with one of your own.

“You kicked my ass up there. I think that deserves a drink.” Was he trying to make the peace with you?

“Will it shut you up if I give in?” You didn’t really want to give in, but man was he persistent. Sure, he would’ve kept pestering you all night if you kept the game going.

“You know it darling.” He stopped in front of the door that led to the women’s locker room smirking right down at you.

“Then you can buy me exactly one drink.” You hated giving in but you had a feeling the man you’d simply never stop.

He nodded, “That’s what I like to hear.” He stepped aside heading to change just like you. You took your time putting your regular military khakis back on. Not entirely eager to go sit in a room full of hyped-up men ready to go fly. That was the one downside of going first. Waiting for everybody else to go.

You walked back into the classroom taking a seat at the empty desk. Jax must’ve been coming up since you didn’t see him in the room. You didn’t really feel like listening to the radio, no matter how entertaining.

Hangman’s loud voice pulled you out of the manual you were going through. You suppressed the eye roll when you heard him tell the other guys about how lucky you got up there and that he had you the next time, no problem.

Again, you didn’t want to approach him, but he really didn’t leave you with a choice. You couldn’t let him just sit there and run his mouth.

“Luck?” You laughed behind him as he talked to the guys around him, “That’s not what you said twenty minutes ago, Hangman. Might I repeat what you said? Something about me kicking your ass?”

He turned with wide eyes completely unaware you stood behind him, arms crossed over your chest with an unimpressed look. He kept underestimating you. He needed to knock that off or his reputation would be as good as gone by the time the mission rolled around.

“Yeah,” The one with a mustache behind him agreed with you, “Didn’t sound like much luck on the radio Hangman.” He tipped his head at you as if to thank you. It seemed as though Hangman was a touchy subject even within his own squadron.

He sighed knowing you got the better of him, “Luck and skill.”

“Or just skill. Not all of us need luck to be successful.” You were officially annoyed with this version of Jake. Not the guy who you were chatting with thirty minutes prior. That guy had a personality that was somewhat redeeming. This guy was insufferable.

The one behind him started laughing, “We all get beat Hangman. It’s okay to admit defeat.” He egged him on. You officially liked the dark-haired moustache man. He seemed to find immense enjoyment out of antagonizing the guy. Almost as much as you.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see who’s the real winner after the next few weeks.” He couldn’t seem to back down. Not willing to admit defeat just yet.

“We sure will. Can’t wait to find out.” You walked away right back to your seat waiting for the rest of the class to go through their training for the day. Luckily the latest version of the F-18 manual had come out giving you something to scour through as you waited.

Walking into the Hard Deck with Jax had never felt so good. It’d been far too long. The two of you made it over to where the rest of the two squadrons were mingling. The tensions were still a little too high for comfort. Hopefully the alcohol would lower everybody’s hostility not heighten it.

You took a seat next to Berlin and Bob. You’d taken a quick liking to the gentle naturedness of Bob. He sat behind you in class asking you a few questions as the two of you scoured through the new manuals. The only two not actively listening to the radio comms. Quickly you spotted Jake sitting at the bar with Javy. Javy had been one of the few Dagger Squad members to introduce themselves to you. The rest seemingly put off by the extra squad at their base.

Who you didn’t spot was your old partner in the skies, Red, sitting right next to them. He sat next to them in his civilian clothes being as discreet as possible. It’s not that he wanted to hide from you. He just didn’t know what to say to you. It was difficult. The two of you thought you were untouchable in the skies. Until you weren’t.

“Lieutenants.” Red held his beer up to Jake and Javy. You’d turned back to conversation with both Bob and Berlin. The two biggest nerds keeping you enthralled with whatever they kept going on about. It’s not like you understood the physics they kept going on about.

Jake gave him the up and down, unable to figure out who and the hell was talking to them, “Lieutenant?” He questioned back as if to ask who he was.

He nodded, “I once was. Had to retire. My wingman and I took a few nasty hits on our mission months ago. I got stabbed in the eye on my decent down. My wingman almost bled to death. Needless to say, you can’t fly with one eye. Call sign’s Red. Just took a job as a Chief Warrant Officer though.” He held his beer up to the pilots.

“Cheers.” Jake held his beer up. The three of them drinking in silence until Jake couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re wingman. Does he still fly?” He didn’t know why he was so curious but he was.

Jake missed the quick glance he threw you through the crowd, “She does.”

Jake took a long sip of his beer contemplating his next move. Did he really want to know? He did, “What happened then?”

Red sighed leaning his back against the barstool, “Recon didn’t do their job. We got ambushed right in the middle of the mission. It was supposed to be a few long-range bomb drops. No big deal. We’d done it hundreds of times before. This was different though…” He paused looking down like he had failed you, “There were so many SAM’s that we couldn’t shake. She went down defending me. I didn’t last much longer. Got stabbed in the eye by a tree, I think. I don’t really remember. Doctor said I was lucky that’s all that happened. My wingman though. She took the brunt of it. Found her lying in the snow shivering half conscious. When I rolled her over there was a 10-inch cut running right next to her spine. Doctor was amazed she even survived. Said she should’ve died from the blood loss. She got lucky the cut didn’t hit anything crucial. Doc said whatever it was that cut her missed her spine by inches. Miracle really. She made a full recovery in a few months. She’s flying right now.”

“Is she good?” Javy asked, curious as ever.

“Good?” Red laughed thinking of all the stunts you’d pulled over the years, “She’s the best damn pilot I’ve ever gotten the privilege to fly with. She put her life on the line for me and would do it again in a heartbeat. I’d do anything to go fly with her again. But when you lose an entire eye it’s hard to convince the Navy.” The three of them chuckled at his joke around the subject. He was trying to lighten the drawn down mood.

“What’s her name?” Jake asked.

He shook his head, “She wouldn’t want me to say. It’s between the two of us and her squad. She’s not looking for any points.”

That’s when Jake heard your laugh. He turned towards you with a warm smile on his face, “Got it.” Jake failed to turn back towards Red as he collected another beer from Penny for you, “I’m sorry. Not be rude but I told Dory I’d buy her a drink.”

Red laughed unironically and nodded, “Go on. I’m sure she needs it.” The three of them laughed as Jake walked over to you. Javy kept the conversation going with the retired Pilot who was returning as a CWO. He’d gotten fast tracked with the aviation department after the unfortunate incident. That’s why he was here after all. Kasper invited him out to help out with the mission and he jumped at the opportunity. He just hadn’t had the courage to tell you just yet.

Red simply smiled as he watched your face scrunch up as the pilot walked over to you. That was the same damn face you’d make at him for years as the two of you trained together. As much as the two of you got on each other’s nerves you loved the other harder. Red finished the glass that Penny poured him and headed out. Tomorrow. That’s when he’d tell you he was back.

To say the next few weeks were anything but challenging would be a vast understatement. You’d put a target right on your back after handing Hangman that first defeat. Not only was he, but everybody in his damn squadron had it out for you. They had to beat Dory. But you didn’t let them. You had to hand it to everybody though, they were making you the best pilot you could be. Having to be so technically sound and anticipating in the air wasn’t an easy task.

Jake managed to beat you a few times in all the trainings. But you still had the edge. Every two times you beat him, he beat you once. Natasha was right, Hangman was a very special kind of guy. He made you so irate one moment and then had you giggling like a middle school girl with a fiery crush the next.

Just as much as he drove you mad you did the exact same to Jake. He’d never met anybody like you. You were nothing like Natasha but every bit as confident, if not more than the girl. You never seemed to let any comment bring you down only drive you further. He knew what to say to get under your skin. You knew what to say to get under his.

It all hit a breaking point when you and Hangman were against each other again in another dogfight training. Mav and Kasper just seemed to love to pair the two of you up. Neither one of you wanted to give it up in this training session which led to Maverick and Kasper yelling at the both of you on comms to let up, both of you ignoring him, you almost running into Jake and narrowly avoiding the side of the mountain and Jake completely fucking the frame up of his F-18, bending it so it was unflyable as he tried to shoot you down.

To say Maverick gave you an earful was the understatement of the year. Kasper simply stood there and watched as he berated the both of you. Threatening Court Martial and all. Truly, you’d never been so frightened by a leader in the military. Kasper must have noticed the expression on your face as he simply shook his head once Maverick was done tearing into the side of both of you. You felt lucky you weren’t having to go see the Vice Admiral on base, Cyclone. Now that was a terrifying man.

Both you and Jake stood there in silence. Both too afraid to speak or move. You’d surely done it now. Your chances of getting picked for the mission were slim to none now. It was so quiet you were sure that was Jake’s heart you could hear hammering in his chest, or yours.

“That could’ve gone better.” You whispered. It almost sounded like you were yelling it was so quiet in the hanger. The rest of the class was surely in the classroom waiting on you. They definitely heard everything on the radio. You were sure one of them heard the nice ass chewing that just commenced.

“Fuck.” He ran his hands across his face through his hair. You watched as the emotions crossed his face and ended in anger, directed right at you, “What the fuck was that?”

Was he really blaming you? “What was what? We were training.”

“You wouldn’t stop.” He frowned.

“Neither would you!” You mimicked him with a frown right on your face.

“Because you wouldn’t!” He could never be wrong, could he? It’d always be your fucking fault. He was so exhausting. You didn’t know how much more of him you could realistically take. While the highs were very high with the man, the lows were just as low. It was a roller coaster ride you suddenly wanted off of.

“Oh my god. Are you serious right now?” Eyes wide you walked away from him, quickly.

He followed quickly, “What is that you say? As a heart attack.”

You stopped so quickly he almost ran right into you, “Has anybody every told you how insufferable you are?”

The smirk that crossed his face almost made you want to slap him. That’d give him far too much satisfaction though, “All the time.”

Your face saddened just enough to get to him for a second, “I didn’t really think you were Hangman. I thought that was just a front. That’s so… disappointing.” Walking away slowly this time he didn’t dare follow. You hit him right where it hurt. You really thought he was an asshole. All that work he did put in was shattered in an instant. He had to admit he was being a bit of a dick.

Once he made it back to the classroom you were already sitting with Jax. Not daring to take a single look in his direction. Jake saw the comforting squeeze Jax gave you. He knew it was because of him.

Mav went on and on about how we weren’t clicking as a team. You had a sneaking suspicion it was because of the tension between you and Jake. Almost everybody seemed fine besides the two of you. You could only look at your notebook in shame, not daring to look towards the front like you always did.

“Alright. Go to lunch. I don’t want you reporting here after. Get to the Hard Deck. We’ll be playing some good old fashioned dogfight football to get you all gelling just a little bit better.” Mav walked out of the room followed by Kasper.

“The hell is dogfight football?” You asked Jax who looked just as confused as you were.

Bob so kindly explained as best he could. You just knew you were in for a hell of time. After changing and riding to the beach with Jax you both made it out to where most of the squadron already stood. You looked over to Phoenix and Halo noticing they were both in just sports bras and shorts. The t-shirt was already clinging to the sweat on your skin. You really should’ve thought this one through. You pulled on Jax giving him the help me face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once the two of you were out of ear shot.

“Please tell me you have a tank in your car? I’m too hot in this t-shirt.” Your expression must not have given off how panicked you felt.

He shrugged, “Take it off then?”

You sighed, “What about the big ass scar down my back Jax?”

Scrunching his face, he thought for a second before responding, “Just take it off. Nobody will even notice. It’s a bunch of jacked up dudes ready to go.”

“Really?” You looked at him skeptically.

“Yes, Y/N. You’re fine.”

Rolling your eyes, you slid the shirt off. Back facing the rest of the group. Jax would’ve been right if Jake wasn’t already staring right at you. His eyes crinkled as he took in the sight before him. An almost footlong scar racing down your back had his eyes nearly bugging. That pilot at the bar wasn’t lying. It was you? You should’ve died before Jake was ever going to meet you? That realization just wasn’t okay with him.

His heart started racing as he watched you walk back down the beach towards them with Jax. It hit him that he absolutely loved training with you. There was a world where you probably didn’t make it out of that crash alive and he had to do this without you. That also wasn’t okay with him.

The whole situation wasn’t sitting quite right with him. He was beginning to realize how much he enjoyed having you entangled in his life. How much he loved riling you up. How much he adored seeing you smile at his expense. He loved that smart ass mouth that always seemed to put him in his place. He cherished your presence. You.

He knew he had a whole lot of work to do to change your mind. He was going to have to do the most un-Hangman like things to win you back over. He was going to be himself. That’s when you smiled the most around him. He could do it.

He lined up opposite you on the line, “Hey pretty lady.” He smiled warmly. It turned into a frown when he saw you roll your eyes.

“Really, Hangman?” You spoke his call sign with so much disdain it made the comment sting that much worse.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, “For earlier, for now. For everything I’ve put you through.” He spoke quickly before the ball was snapped. You gave him a funny look before running off for the play. Was he being serious?

When you lined back up with the next play, he just looked at you, waiting for you to respond, “You’re not joking?”

“No! I’m sorry, I… I have no excuse.” He sighed almost forgetting you were in the middle of a game before you took off again. You were loving this game right now. These runs gave you a chance to think. Not that you’d come up with a good response. You weren’t very good when it came to this stuff. Talking about feelings.

“Okay.” You nodded gaining the courage to look up at him.

His concentration on you broke as he smiled hearing that response. It wasn’t great but it certainly wasn’t bad. You weren’t all out rejecting him at this point, “Okay. Yeah?” He nodded hoping to get something else out of you.

“Yeah. Yeah okay. Sure.” You weren’t sure why any words were coming to your brain.

He laughed at that, “What’s your favorite color?” He asked changing the subject.

You raised an eyebrow before darting off. This time you caught the football scoring one for your team. Jax was right, nobody seemed to give a shit about that red scar. Even if they did, they did a good job hiding it. That or your squad mates threatened them. It certainly wasn’t out of the question.

Both you and Jake were tapped out. He sat next to you again, waiting patiently for your answers, “Sometimes it’s blue, the color of the sky on a bright sunny summer day blue. Sometimes it’s green. Like when you find that perfect Christmas tree on a cool winter day. And sometimes it’s orange. The orange of the sunset when you’re at the beach on a crisp fall night. There’s nothing like it really.” You weren’t lying. Your favorite color rotated just like the seasons seemed too.

“Wow. I was just going to say green.” He coolly scratched the back of his head suddenly feeling terribly less than. How could he keep up with you if that’s how you thought? He knew you were smart not downright brilliant.

You smiled looking up to him, “Nothing wrong with that. You can like green. There doesn’t need to be a reason.”

He shook his head, “And here you are comforting me.” He was at a loss for words as he studied you expression. Suddenly he didn’t give a shit if Bradley or Javy walked over and watched. He didn’t seem to care. It was about you. How could he have been so damn blind not to see it?

You shrugged, “It’s the truth, so.” Playing it off as nothing more you tuned your head towards the setting sun outlining your squad and the dagger squad playing football.

He smiled seeing you so coy. He’d found a weakness. Something he wasn’t planning to exploit, “Do you have any siblings?”

You nodded thinking of your past life. A life so innocent compared to this one, “I do. A younger brother. What about you?”

“A couple of sisters. A few older and one younger.”

You grinned, “Lucky you. Sisters are a blessing.”

“So are brothers.” He countered knowing it’d get a rise out of you.

Raising your eyebrows you continued, “I didn’t say they weren’t.”

He sighed knowing he had to let the ego drop, “They are a blessing. Each one of them. They’d be horrified at how I’ve been treating ya sweetheart.” The term of endearment tumbled out so easily it almost slipped by you.

You prayed your foundation was heavy enough to hide the blush. Having a sneaking suspicion, it wasn’t you continued talking trying to distract him, “If you could only eat one type of cuisine for the rest of your life what would it be?”

He grinned, “I was supposed to be asking you the questions. But to answer yours, it’d have to be Tex-mex. I could eat it all day every day.”

You nodded smiling wide not saying a word.

“What?” His smile was unlike one you’d seen on him. It seemed so genuine and sincere. Like he was smiling at you for this first time.

“That’s the most Texas answer you could’ve given me.” Your grin only widened seeing his smile turn to shock then guffaw.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Can I tell you something?” He asked once his laughter died down. Nodding your head, you watched the game unfold before you. Smiling as you saw Berlin tackle Jax out of the corner of your eye. The boys were having a hell of time.

“Shoot.”

“I find you fascinating.” He stopped before he went on. He knew a big confession was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t yet. Not until you trusted him. He’d started to burn the bridge and he was desperately trying to put that fire out before the bridge snapped.

Shaking your head slightly in disbelief you had a hard time believing him, “What?”

“Absolutely fascinating. And incredibly beautiful. One of the best pilots I’ve flown with. The most unafraid person I’ve worked with… I could go on…”

You stopped him, “Don’t. Thank you.” You smiled to yourself gleefully. How this man could make you feel such things in such a short amount of time.

“Anytime sweetheart.” His goofy grin was noticed by almost everybody playing in front of them. Jax wanted to slap it right off his face. What was more concerning was your face. You looked utterly taken by him. A look he’d quite literally never seen on it before. He wanted so desperately to disapprove but he knew it was bound to happen. The way one moment you complained and the next you had nothing but good things to say gave him whiplash.

Eyes moving up to the handsome man you had to wonder where all of this was coming from? Did your words actually mean something to him? You’d only known him for three fucking weeks, but it felt like three years at this rate. The intensity between the two of you was bubbling up and hitting a head, “Where’s all this coming from Jake?” You had to ask. As fun as it was to play twenty questions with the man you needed to know.

Did he want to tell you he knew? How much your words from earlier already affected him and seeing that fresh scar running down the right side of your spine pushed him over the edge of realization. He liked you. Maybe even more than liked you. He’d never admit that out loud though. He’d never met a woman so sure of herself. It all made sense now. Why he wanted to be around you. Why he found enjoyment poking fun at you. How it hurt him when you were hurt from Mav’s words and his. He realized he never wanted to be the cause of your anguish. Only the root of all your happiness.

“I met a pilot friend of yours at the bar a few weeks ago, Red.” He stated so causally.

Giving him a quizzical look, you had to wonder how in the hell had he known Red? Your guy. Your partner in the sky, “He didn’t tell you…” You paused not sure what the hell you wanted to say. It was never easy admitting when you went down. Nonetheless shouldn’t have survived. It was awkward to talk about. Like you weren’t good enough at your job.

Jake shook his head quickly, “He didn’t say who, he just told Javy and I what happened.”

“How did you know…” Again, it suddenly clicked. The fucking scar that dragged along your back. Nobody noticed it except for Jake, “The scar.” You stated continuing to look ahead letting out the breath you had been holding in.

“He didn’t realize we’d be playing football when he told us the story.” Jake laughed trying to ease your discomfort. He wouldn’t lie about it. That was no way.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly, “I don’t blame him. I’m just glad he’s back. He was talking about retiring for good.” He wasn’t here. He was with Hondo training a few new guys all the ins and outs of the F-18.

“And you?” Jake asked.

You hadn’t really been asked that in the six months since the accident. It was assumed that once the Doctor said you’d make a full recovery you’d be right back on track. That’s what you did. Not even sure if you’d properly processed all the trauma you went through just months prior, “It wasn’t even a thought.”

“Well, I’m glad.” Jake smiled down at you even though you were so intent on staring straight ahead, “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Are you?” You hadn’t a clue where that came from. It’s not like Jake was the worst person you’d come across, but he certainly had shown you a side you weren’t particularly fond of. Even if he had been complimenting you moments before. Finding some courage, you looked back up at him curiously.

He took a second to come up with the right words, “I’m so happy you’re here. You’ve made me a better pilot. A better person. I know how I’ve come off to you and it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. When I saw that scar along your back, just like Red was describing I realized a few things. There was a chance that you could’ve never had made it here. You could’ve died before I even got the chance to meet you. It made me realize just how important you are to me. I… I can only apologize for the way I’ve treated you before, but I promise you I won’t do it again.”

Placing your palms behind you in the sand you leaned back taking in every word. Jake was a whole lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them, “Okay.”

“Okay.” He continued smiling knowing you weren’t terribly good at words when it came to stuff like this. The dichotomy between your personality, a spit fire in the sky yet too shy to say a word when it came to emotions, “Would you be willing to give me a second shot? I won’t disappoint you this time.”

You nodded, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice and I’ll find somebody to kick your ass.”

A hearty laugh escaped his lips, “I’ll let you kick it, how does that sound darling?”

Grinning and nodding it felt good to talk to the man you’ve been harboring a crush on, “That sounds amazing. You better not mess it up again or I’m coming for it.”

“You know, I completely believe you.”

“Good.” You giggled feeling all the tension finally leave your body. It felt so damn good letting it all out in front of him.

He sighed. Looking at him fully you could see there was something bothering him. Like he wanted to keep going but was holding back his tongue.

“Spit it out Jake.” You wanted to roll your eyes, but he was trying. Having battles in his head on how to best handle the situation.

“Are you okay? He said you should’ve died. That… that can’t be easy.”

Were you okay? You still loved being up in the air. You loved everything about flying. In fact, the accident made you only want to become a better one. But were you okay personally? You thought you were. You’d been to a couple of military required therapy sessions that didn’t do a whole lot for you.

“I think so. Haven’t really thought about it much.” Admitting that to him was hard. You were a sure person. Think wasn’t in your vernacular, you knew. But you didn’t know if you were okay. You thought you were, but could you really be?

“Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, “Not anymore. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t remember much. I blacked out.” You took a moment before continuing, “I ejected to late. It’s my own fault but they were going to kill him. I should’ve pulled the handle sooner. I don’t know what happened. I was too close to the ground…” You paused not really wanting to think too much into it, “I think the cockpit cut me on the way out. I was spinning out. I don’t remember. It just hurt.” You blinked back a few tears that flooded your eyes just thinking about it. You were not okay. You weren’t a crier in the first place, so this was odd for you. Sitting back up you used the back of your hand to wipe away the few that fell. Fuck.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze, “Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I just want you to know that I think you’re insanely strong for being able to fly the way you do after going through that. I don’t think I could.”

Wiping away the remaining tears you shook your head, “Bull. You’d be right back up in the air. You’re too much like me. Can’t let it go. Not yet anyway.”

The two of you were so immersed in the conversation both of you missed Mav calling you back into the huddle. Your eyes were trained on him as his eyes were on you. It was only Jax’s whistle that tore you from the gaze.

“Come on.” He gave you a hand once he stood up, “Better go join the group or we’ll get another ass chewing from Mav.”

Placing your hand in his felt so right, so natural, “I’d rather not go through that again.” He pulled you up. Walking back over he broke towards his squad as you nestled yourself in between Berlin and Jax.

“I don’t like the way he keeps looking at you Dory.” Jax spoke far too loudly. Berlin, Cairo, and a few others snickered knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Shut up Jax.” Giving him the look your turned your attention back towards Mav.

Berlin decided he wanted in on the conversation, “Were you not just complaining about him, oh I don’t know… yesterday?”

You punched his arm playfully, “Yeah, so?”

“It means we don’t like the way he’s looking at you.” Cairo chimed in from in front of you.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked at them all skeptically, “You’re all so nosy.”

“And I don’t like the way you’re looking at him!” Jax gave you a wide-eyed look like you’d failed to tell him something.

“Shut up.” You pushed him.

“Oh? Does Y/N have a crush?” Berlin quipped earning the laughs of everyone around you both. Including some of the Dagger Squad.

Rolling your eyes, you resigned to flipping him off instead not daring to disagree.

“Well boys we lost her. She’s not fighting back.” Jax started cracking up.

“If it’s any consolation, he won’t shut up about you. Pretty sure he feels the same way.” Rooster leaned in smirking with that damn mustache on his face.

You put your hand over your face avoiding everybody’s gaze. The random burst of Oh’s made Jake turn towards the group you were by with that same genuine smile. You’d deal with all the teasing in the world if it meant you got to see that smile again.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Jake’s voice broke your stride as you turned towards him.

Jax continued walking not waiting up on you, “Be good Y/N.” He snickered as he walked back towards his car.

“Let me give you a ride back to base?” He was practically begging for some more time alone with you. No matter how short of a ride it was.

“Sure.” You followed him to his truck. Jake being the newfound gentleman he really was rushed over to open the door and close it for you.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but to smile up at him as he slid into his seat.

Nodding his head he turned the key, “Anytime sweetheart. Really. Anytime.”

He pulled out driving back to base, “I heard what your friends said earlier.”

“You did?” The blush that coated your cheeks was probably immaculate. He was so forward with everything it made you want to scream. He put you right on the spot with that one. You’d normally dance around the emotions rather than full on confront them.

“Mhmm. I might have a crush on you too.” He said so nonchalantly it made you double take.

“Really?” You were sure your voice was three octaves higher as your eyes widened in realization. How could he be so cool about it?

He nodded taking his eyes off the road for just a second to reassure you, “What’s not to love? Beautiful, kind, tough, smart as hell, the whole package.”

“Wow. Are you sure?” You didn’t know

He chuckled taking your hand in his, “I’m so positive about this. I know we’re stationed across the country, but we can figure it out. Moves can be made. Promotions can be had. I want to try this with you. If you’d let me?”

The smile that burst onto your face felt incredible, “Hell yeah. Let’s do it.” You answered before you could really process it. But your brain knew before you did because you were thrilled.

He squeezed your hand tight as he parked the truck. Seemingly the last group to make it back. Surely the rest of the squadron was waiting on the two of you, “Yeah?”

You nodded looking so happily up at him, “Yes! Yeah, who knows what’ll happen? Plus, you know I have a whole squadron ready to hunt you down if you fuck it up.”

“Trust me, I’m not messing this one up.”

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worseforwords · 1 year

Text

The Last Wrapper

(Leah Williamson x Reader)

Chapter 1: Absence & Anticipation

Cold air filled your lungs as you slowly took in your surroundings: a four-tiered bowl with about sixty thousand red chairs, a glass and steel construction establishing a roof over them, white chairs forming a trademark cannon in the lower level stands opposite the entrance tunnel you were standing in. For many, including yourself once upon a time, the Emirates had the welcoming feeling of home. However, to the opposing team in an upcoming London derby, it radiated immensity and intimidation. As you stepped onto the pristine pitch of North London, memories flooded your mind, reminding you of the first and last time your feet had graced this grass.

You were eleven years old, standing alongside your then friend and teammate Leah Williamson, as your Arsenal Academy coach gathered the team of potential future stars together on the center of the field amid the mesmerising arena. Audible gasps were heard as everyone took in the stadium of their dreams.

“Take it all in. If you work hard enough, this right here could be your future. The fact that you are here now means you have talent and potential, or at least someone saw something in you. You’re all part of an elite selection, and while that’s already an accomplishment of sorts, it’s not enough to get you to the top. You’ll need to work harder than you have ever worked, and that hard work begins now. You’ll also need support, from family, friends, and everyone around you. Look around, some of you may be inclined to see each other as competition, but these people are your friends, and you’ll find that you need to have each others backs in order to survive. And lastly, unfortunately, you’ll need lots and lots of luck to actually make it to the top, which you have absolutely no control over.”

Hard work, support, and luck: a triad of elements determining whether a talented individual made it to the top. You’d never forgotten the speech your coach gave that day, as the following years taught you just how right she was.

Over the years you and Leah became close friends; you even developed a pre-match ritual: you always got each other small sweets with some words of encouragement written on the wrapper before every match and you secretly ate them when the staff wasn’t watching.

You worked together well, pushing each other to work the hardest you could, making tough sacrifices together and eventually, lifting up trophies together in several youth tournaments. You were adamant on making it to the top, together.

But fate had other plans.

Just when everything seemed to be falling into place, an injury during a critical match sent you crashing down. You had been taken to the hospital, and when you woke up after your emergency surgery, Leah was nowhere to be seen. Your dream was shattered, the future uncertain. And where was Leah, your supposed friend? Nowhere to be found. You were furious. You had expected her to be there for you, but instead, she had abandoned you when you needed her most. The injury was serious, and it took over a year of painful rehabilitation before you could even think about playing football again.

After months of gruelling physical therapy, you slowly began to climb back up. You trained harder than ever, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion day in and day out. The road to recovery was long and arduous, but you were determined to come back stronger than ever before.

Eventually you got back on the field, but by then, everything had changed. Leah had made it big, joining the senior team, and you were still struggling to get back into the game, having missed a crucial period in your development as a young athlete. You resented her success, and the fact that she had left you behind.

One day, after hearing yet another story about Leah’s latest achievement, you snapped. You called her up and unleashed all of the anger and frustration you had been building up. The conversation ended in a bitter argument, with both of you hurling insults and accusations at each other. After that, you both avoided each other like the plague, refusing to be in the same room or even speak each other’s names. Your once close friendship had turned into bitter rivalry and you both hated each other with a passion.

Even though it had been mostly out of your control, it felt like she was winning, at football and at life, playing for Arsenal, making new friends and even dating one of their star players, but you refused to give up. You poured everything you had into your training, working tirelessly to improve your skills and perfect your game. Slowly but surely, your hard work began to pay off. Years after Leah had joined Arsenal’s first team, you also found your way into the WSL, by joining Brighton, hoping to move up from there. You worked hard and proved your worth at Brighton, eventually catching the eye of Chelsea scouts.

The offer to join Chelsea was a dream come true, but it also meant crossing a line you never thought you would. The rivalry between Arsenal and Chelsea was well-known, and as a lifelong Gooner, it was a difficult pill to swallow. But in the end, you knew that this was the chance of a lifetime, playing alongside some of the best and brightest, and you couldn’t let it slip away.

So here you were, about to face your new team’s greatest rival, with your nemesis serving as their captain. You had crossed paths with her on the field before during your time at Brighton, and the encounter had been far from pleasant, but now, about to participate in a highly anticipated London derby, you didn’t know what to expect.

As you stood on the field, thoughts flooding your mind, Millie approached you, her hand on your shoulder as she asked, “Are you ready?” You turned to face her, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so.” you replied, your thoughts already consumed by the upcoming game. Before you could say anything more, Millie added, “I mean, are you ready to face Leah?” The mention of her name made you flinch. “So you’ve heard, huh?” you asked, a hint of bitterness creeping into your voice. Millie nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, she’s mentioned your history a few times at England camp.”

“What did she say?” you asked after a moment of silence. “I don’t think you want to know that.” Millie answered carefully. You sighed as you pushed the tip of your shoe into the grass and you thought about how everyone must view you, only having heard Leah’s side of the story. “Hey, we’re a team now you know. Whatever happens today, I’ll be on your side.” Millie said as she noticed your frustrated expression. “Thanks.” you said as you nodded slightly.

Two hours went by slowly as you got ready for the match. You walked towards the tunnel, heart racing as you saw Leah already waiting there. As you approached her, she refused to meet your gaze, her jaw clenched tightly. You both knew what was at stake in this match.

You forced a smile and extended your hand for the customary pre-match handshake, which she reluctantly reciprocated. You could feel the tension between you and you felt a knot form in your stomach as you made your way to your position on the field.

The match started and it was clear from the first whistle that this was going to be a tough one. Dirty tackles and near misses flew from both sides, with tempers flaring and players arguing with the ref. You and Leah ended up coming head to head multiple times, both of you determined not to give an inch.

As you walked into the changing room at half-time, Emma looked stern and unimpressed as she began to lecture the team about their performance in the first half. You listened carefully, taking in every word. As Emma finished speaking, you could feel the determination welling up inside you. You knew that this was your chance to prove yourself and to show Leah and everyone else what you were made of.

Only, once again, faith had different plans, as about ten minutes into the second half, you felt a boot collide with your left knee, causing a sharp pain and sending you tumbling to the ground. You held onto your knee as you hid your face in the grass. It didn’t take long for the medics to arrive, and you immediately told them it was your bad knee that had just taken a hit. As they started their check up routine, you looked up to find Leah getting booked by the referee: a yellow, which somehow was only her first card of the match. Of course it had been her, hitting you right at your weakest spot, where the rivalry had once started.

To your surprise, she started to approach you, but she never got her chance to say anything, as Millie jumped in to stop her, staying true to her word.

“I’m fine, I can continue.” you said after being forced to the sidelines. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” one of the medics spoke, signalling Emma you had to be subbed out. “No, please, I have to finish this.” But your plea remained unanswered, and much to your dismay, you were ordered to spend the remainder of the game on the bench.

As gruelling of a match this was, watching it from the sidelines was far more excruciating than playing in it. Your team became increasingly frustrated, resulting in foolish mistakes and unnecessary fouls. Defensively, they stood their ground though, until in the fourth of seven added minutes, the ball hit the back of the net, your net. And of course, it had been sent there by none other than Leah Williamson, with a glorious header. As the stadium erupted, you could feel the anger boiling inside of you like a volcano ready to erupt.

The final whistle blew a few minutes later, and you quickly shook hands with the opposing team, trying your best to be polite. You avoided Leah at all costs, not trusting yourself around her with your anger boiling just beneath the surface. She seemed to want to at least shake hands with you, but you had no interest in hearing what she had to say. You made a beeline for the changing room, feeling the urge to get away from the stadium and the memories it held. You quickly changed out of your kit, barely speaking a word to anyone, before making your way out of the stadium as fast as you could.

As soon as you got home, you slammed the front door shut and turned straight to the wall, punching it with all your might. The pain shot up your arm, and you winced as you looked down to see your knuckles bruising and swelling. Feeling defeated, you made your way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hot water hit your body, and you closed your eyes as you tried to calm down. After a few minutes, you got out and dried yourself off, then went to the kitchen to make some food.

Despite your body’s need for food after the match, you didn’t feel like eating anything, and you found yourself staring at the food without any appetite. Frustrated, you pushed the plate aside and slumped onto the couch, trying to find something to watch on TV. However, your mind couldn’t focus on anything, and you felt restless and uneasy. You knew you needed to do something to distract yourself, so you got up and grabbed your coat, deciding to go to a bar and drink away your misery.

You walked into the bar and made your way to the counter, taking a seat on one of the stools. You ordered a beer and watched as the bartender poured it for you. You took a sip and closed your eyes, feeling the cold liquid go down your throat.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, a stranger came up to you. “Hey there, you look like you could use some company. Is everything okay?” she asked. You looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance. A woman in her mid-twenties, with curly brown hair and a warm smile looked back at you questioningly. “Oh, uh, yeah, just had a bad day.” you replied.

“Ah, I see,” she said, nodding sympathetically. “Anything you want to talk about?” You hesitated for a moment, but then decided to open up a little. “Well, I lost an important football match today.” you said. “You’re a footballer?” she asked, smiling. “I love football. Which club do you play for?”

“Chelsea, we played Arsenal today.” you answered, making her jaw drop to the floor. “Wait so you like, play professionally?” she asked, eyes widening. “Yeah, I just signed with them actually.” you said, a small smile finally appearing on your face. “Wow, that’s amazing, congratulations!” she exclaimed, “And hey, I’m sorry you lost a derby, but you’ll get ‘em next time, I’m sure.” She smiled. “Thanks.”

“So hey, sorry to be blunt, but could I maybe get your number?” she asked out of the blue, almost making you spit out your drink. “Erm, I’m sorry,” you started, “I don’t really date right now, too busy.” “Who said anything about dating?” she quipped, sending you a quick wink.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, “but you should go find someone who’s more fun tonight. I’ll keep my sorrow company with a solitary drink or two.” “Okay suit yourself, Emily Dickinson, but if you ever decide to get out of that cloud of misery you’re sitting in, you can find me on the dance floor. I can be a great distraction you know.” she said as she sent you one last wink before she left you sitting alone once again.

You sat at the bar, quietly nursing your beer and trying to forget about the day’s events. Just as you were about to order another, the same stranger from before approached you again. You were a bit annoyed at first, wondering why she wouldn’t leave you alone, but she looked serious this time. “Hey,” she said, “I’m sorry to bother you again, but I saw someone in the bathroom who you probably know. She’s really drunk and crying her eyes out.”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering who she could be talking about. “Why would I know her?” you asked her. “Just go to the bathroom, you’ll see.” she said, sounding serious. You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Fine, I’ll go check on her,” you said, reluctantly getting up from your stool and making your way to the bathroom.

You rounded the corner and saw a blond girl hanging over a toilet, sobbing. You immediately recognised her, even from behind: Leah Williamson. “Of course.” you mumbled to yourself, very annoyed at the situation you had just found yourself in. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should just leave her there. But something in you wouldn’t let you. You took a deep breath and approached her. “Leah,” you said softly, “are you okay?”

Chapter 2

#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #engwnt x reader

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eldesperadont · 8 months

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@ AEW GIRLIES (gn) who are interested in NJPW lore

with All In coming up, I need fans that only know Kota as Kennys insane boyfriend and Jay as the silly Bullet Club bastard to know about their history with each other (and Kenny/Hangman) which spans 5 years at this point, even more if you count in Jays time as a trainee in njpw (2015/16), so he like.. watched and learned from them all – anyways lets go with the rambling recap

Starting with Jays first title win and how it came to that: early 2018, Kenny was in the midst of a power struggle in Bullet Club, his relationship with Cody was getting more strenuous by the day and the non Elite BC members were getting tired of their BS.

Kenny, trying to legitimise his position as a leader, thought recruiting new promising talent to his side would help, so he offered a young Switchblade Jay White “the opportunity of a lifetime”.

Jay accepted, only to attack him right after, and with that nothing could stop the threads holding Kennys BC together from rapidly unravelling.

Kenny would lose his US Heavyweight Championship to White soon after, and in the aftermath of the match even more. Hangman, finally taking a step out of his friend's shadow, got all up in Jays space, snatched the belt and obviously implied a challenge, but Kenny wouldnt have any of that. He pushed Adam aside and gave Jay his price back. (to the surprise of the crowd who expected Kenny to be more bitter apparently lol)

Enter Cody. Opportunistic and sinister as he was at the time he immediately stoked the flames, snapping at Kenny why he wouldnt let Hangman have that moment.

They seem to talk it out but whoops, Cody attacks Kenny after all, Adam helping him.

They are about to lay him out as Ibushi runs to Kennys aid, finally giving us the reunion people have been waiting for years.

In the following months a lot happens, Adam gets his match with Jay (and is read to filth by him - it’s essential to watch that promo, here) but doesnt succeed, the Golden Lovers and Young Bucks have an emotional feud, Cody continues being a menace with Hangman at his side, Kenny finally wins the IWGP Heavyweight belt, the Golden Elite was formed, Cody is a sad lil bitch now, they were all kinda friends again, oh and Bullet Club split fr*.

[*On one side you had Kenny and his friends, on the other BC originals Bad Luck Fale, Tama Tonga plus his younger brothers and technically their dad? Things were kinda messy but thats technically the BC that stayed in Japan and made Jay White their leader. The last real appearance of the Elite as BC was at the inaugural All In, their indie PPV.]

Alright end of 2018/beginning of 2019 - Kenny loses his IWGP belt at Wrestle Kingdom (njpws wrestlemania) and quietly leaves NJPW with the Bucks, Cody and Hangman, starting AEW (things behind the scenes didnt work out as expected and nooj didn’t wanna cooperate with them at first)

So yeah. Ibushi. He was all alone again, but in the summer of 2019 finally manages what he was so close to in the previous year: winning the G1 tournament.

He faced Jay White in the finals, who at that point firmly held Kennys position as Bullet Club leader and is the top gaijin of the company.

Both him and Ibushi were together with Kazuchika Okada and Tetsuya Naito the top of NJPW. And all four would be involved in the main events of the following Wrestle Kingdom. Jay and Okada as titleholders, Naito and Ibushi as challengers.

Well neither Jay or Kota came out victorious on the first WK night, but the following day, in a match for third place, Jay defeated Ibushi, making the latter the biggest loser of the event,,

Covid caused quite a mess in the following months - their next singles meeting wouldn't be till late 2020, during that years G1, where Jay gets another win over the Golden Star

but is unable to reach the finals, in contrast to Ibushi, who wins the whole tournament for a second time.

Jay doesn't wait and immediately brings up Kotas loss to him, demanding a match for the WK contract he's just won.

Alright bada bing bada boom Ibushi-

LOSES??

Yeah to the shock of everyone Jay actually managed to put himself in the main event for the following WK, thinking he'll face double champ Naito to dethrone him .. but Naito still wanted to face the G1 winner so Kota got his title shot regardless lol

so yeah we got Ibushi vs Naito on night one, and whoever wins that on day two against Jay

In complete contrast to the previous WK Ibushi would not only be victorious on the first night, but also finally beat Jay for good, becoming the undisputed double champ, and God. (their words not mine)

Which absolutely broke White, giving us a glimpse at whats really going on in the "Switchblade". He's so obsessed with success, finally wanting HIS moment, his era, and despite everything he's sacrificed it doesn't seem to happen..

(pls watch the whole promo, its an insane performance)

He'd show up for one last "contractually obligated" match, battered and bruised, taking the pin in a multiman tag match between Bullet Club and Chaos, before leaving everyone in the dark for month about whats next for him.

He'd stick with NJPW for two more years, returning even more unhinged than he already was.

Kota would go on with his reign as double champ, till NJPW unified the titles to create the IWGP World Championship (a highly unpopular move with the fans), which he's the inaugural champion for.

Jay would try his best in the New Japan Cup in hopes of getting another shot at Ibushi, but fall short in the quarterfinals - new focus new goal, he goes for the NEVER Openweight title, and becomes the first ever NJPW "Quadruple Crown" champ, having already held the IWGP US, Heavyweight and Intercontinental Championship at that point.

Ibushi, now with the IWGP World Championship, has his first proper defense with the new singles belt .. and loses to 2021 NJ Cup winner Will Ospreay, cutting his reign shorter than anyone expected.

His bad luck doesnt end there tho, despite making it to the G1 finals for the fourth time in a row, he breaks his arm in said match and is unable to continue. He'll not appear in a NJPW ring again. Mistreatment by staff which caused serious trouble in his private life has him decide against re-signing with the company.

Jay in the meantime would shake things up overseas, defending his NEVER title, debut in IMPACT, be on weird terms with the Elite, lose the NEVER title, debut in AEW, oh and not return to Japan. For a full year, missing out on key events, which had even his BC mates start asking questions.

After some rearranging within the club (kicking out old and recruiting new members) he’d finally return to Japan in the summer of 2022, swiftly dethroning IWGP World champ Okada, Jays last title reign in NJPW (youve might seen his first defence, at Forbidden door against Hangman, Cole and Okada).

He’d hold the title till early 2023 and in good old switchblade fashion be this 👌 close to realising his errors, only to blame everyone else and lose his mind over it, getting involved in a “loser leaves Japan” match against Hikuleo (who had turned his back on Jay) and afterwards, cause that somehow wasnt enough, a “loser leaves NJPW” match against Eddie Kingston. And thats how we got Jay White in AEW, mf is in exile and acts like nothing ever happened lmao

Ibushi, whos last match had been in October 2021, would finally return to the ring in March 2023, at Josh Barnetts 9th Bloodsport event, and make his AEW debut at Blood and Guts, reuniting with Kenny, the Bucks and Hangman as the Golden Elite :)

So yeah both Kota and Jay had quite different paths (that crossed a lot) towards AEW, and as someone who's been watching them for so long now I'm absolutely giddy to see them face one another again - if youd have told me a year ago that I'd get to see Kota and Jay in the same ring again, cause of KENNY of all things, I'd have imploded on the spot (positive)

📷 picture credit: NJPW World, one pic from Jays Instagram, one impact thumbnail and one aew thumbnail

‼️ feel free to ask about anything / correct me on info or spelling mistakes, english is not my mother tongue and im disabled so sometimes i mess things up

#hi i have a lot of feelings about seeing them at all in #jay white #kota ibushi #kenny omega #adam page #aew all in #aew #njpw #bullet club #wrestling thoughts tm

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lundenloves · 8 months

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⇀ ¹ “𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐇𝐒.”

〔 you’re slotted right into the service of doctor john price, an elite head of division and self titled marmite character — you either love him or hate him. you personally can’t quite decide, but he knows for certain that you’re not for him. what will you do after being forced to learn under his wing? 〕

˗ˏˋ and so we start a new series. doctor!price is slowly going to plague the price x reader tag, and i will not be blamed for the thirsty author notes. i’ll create a series masterlist at some point but this is just to see if anyone actually reads it and/or even likes it. but then again, who doesn’t like a sarcastic man?

⇀ 3.1k | mentions of medical procedures + blood | f!reader nicknamed ‘rev’ (later on)

masterlist | taglist | request info

Another day, another fucking alarm. Another day, another flurry of issues, problems and carnage upon barely setting one foot in the door. It was disgusting really, the way each and every nurse greeted him with an enthusiastic welcome. He wasn’t sure if it was because the shift change was now upon them or if he himself, the ray of unprecedented sunshine, was there. He met their words with a sarcastic smile and nod, shoving a thumbs up toward them before teeming through the busy corridor to reach the scrub room.

“Price, do you mind—“

“No.” He leant against the push door, his back pressed to it with a shrug and a feigned smile of empathy. “Don’t talk to me before six.” The words came blandly, face dropping after rubbing at his nose and taking the step backward to enter the room, the door involuntarily slamming.

Seventeen hour shift today, fucking dreadful. Six in the morning till nine at night. Was this good for his health, both mental and physical? No. Was this morally right? Fuck no. Was this even legal? Absolutely not. Though you were expected to check the boxes, turn up and chuck the scrubs on — by which, half of them had run out — welcome to the NHS.

The depressing scrub room was the feat of many tears, all bad of course. Accompanied by the motivational posters from the early noughties, strewn across the walls about how you’re ‘saving a life’ every day, and Price couldn’t ever help but to laugh at them every shift start. Though, by the end he would be fucking talking to the walls, the small people on the posters now his delirious friends.

“Christ.” He mumbled, tying the knot of the trousers before raking around for a passably clean scrub shirt that wasn’t covered in bodily fluids. Not even the fun kind.

The door swung open with its predicted slam, presenting a bunch of fresh faced med students who had stopped to stare at Price. “What.” He frowned, highly aware that he was standing without a shirt, white coat ditched and raking through an old scrub locker for the dispenser had run out. This was fucking poor.

They all snapped their looks away, reduced to quiet chatter before ditching their bags and rolling their sleeves in preparation for the first day of the rest of their lives. Price would have warned them had it not been quarter to six in the morning, and had he not been half as miserable as he always seemed.

Though all hope wasn’t lost, the clouds parted and a beautifully clean scrub shirt was found and chucked on to solidify that he, in fact, did hate his job. He was head of division, so scrubs weren’t a necessity though he didn’t fancy getting said bodily fluids over his regular clothes. “Ready for today, captain?” His assistant doctor, Mike, loomed by the door, bringing all of the noise from outside in with him. Four years ago he had coined the nickname ‘Captain’ for Price and it stuck. For those brave enough to talk to him anyway.

“I’d rather kill myself.” Came his short reply, shoulders dropped upon eyeing Mike in the mirror.

“Well, that’s just grand.” He held out a clipboard, hands clutched to the top and downsides of the wood. “Did you see the schedule?”

“Why would I see the schedule?” Price’s eyes met his in the reflection before turning around to lazily snatch the board from his hands. “What am I looking at?” His eyes roamed the overly complicated excel sheet, shifting his weight to one foot before flicking through the various pages that had been clipped down. “Eh?”

“New SHO resident.”

“And what?” He lulled, handing him the board back and stretching his back out as if preparing for the fucking olympics or alternatively, a shattering seventeen hour shift. I’ll let you decide that one.

“She’s on your service.”

The look of betrayal struck his face, an exasperated sigh leaving his every fucking fibre. “No she’s fucking not.” Price made it his business to let everyone know he did not like new faces on his service, regardless male or female, fucking worldclass or freshly chucked into the deep end, he did not like it. Therefore wouldn't have it.

That was the strange beauty of being not only a white coat, but also head of division — you were almost encouraged to be a bit bratty every now and then. It was like your reward for going through the last eight years of training, because the money surely wasn’t fucking worth it.

“Chuck her elsewhere.”

“You’re the only senior today.”

Price shrugged his coat back on, momentarily screwing his face while rubbing at his brows. “When is she in?” His eyes remained tightly shut.

“Seven.”

“Till?”

“Five.”

His hand dropped at that, pulling a slight face as if he hadn’t heard his co-worker correctly. “Ten hours?” Tilting his head to lean an ear closer to Mike, gesturing he repeated himself.

“She’s transferring.” He instead said, hitting the clipboard rhythmically against the side of his thigh. “From Central London.” Brows wiggled, as if the mere mention of London was valued. Which for the record it wasn’t.

Price left his assistant hanging, passing by him and holding the door open. “Monday fucking morning.” His face somehow dropped even further to accommodate for a low whistle, brows furrowed after stepping out into the upsettingly bright lights. “Floor five.” Came a mumble, lifting his arm to check the time. Six on the dot.

“Mornin’ Price, looking like death today — spend all your weekend juggling the nurses again?” A fellow white coat teased, John spinning on his heel to walk backwards, his arms wide in feigned offense.

“Morning would have sufficed.” He earned an echoed chuckle from the Doctor who had already turned a corner. “What’s on the books today then?” His voice returned to its flat state, and Mike passed him yet another excel sheet.

“You’re split today. Labour ward and one theater.” He leaned over to run his finger across the paper before Price, eventually landing on an estimated time. “Two till four.” He pointed. “Joint replacement. I’ll be with you for that one, then you’ll be joined by the new SHO for a walk around.”

“Thrilling.” He replied shortly.

Mike nodded, splitting off after they had reached the nurses station to do whatever the fuck it was Mike did when not following Price like a lost dog. John leaned on the reception counter, resting his head against his arms. “Rough night, Price?”

“Every night is a rough night.”

“Heard that one before.” Someone else chimed in from behind, coffee in hand. “Still on the coffee ban, John?” She teased, sliding the shitty paper cup toward him and Price could’ve sworn this was some type of flirting had it not been six in the morning. Which was fine, flirting was fair game, except he was usually the one doing it.

In a dramatic statement, he’d vouched to not touch coffee again after losing a scalpel inside a patient. It was most definitely his fault and not the blend like he had whispered to the nurses after the patient had been taken for re-op by junior surgeons. “He’s still going on about that?”

“I didn’t bring it up.” He scoffed, knocking his knuckles on the counter before leaning back and using the clipboard in his hand as a pointing stick of accusation. “Listen, it’s been rough—“

“We all know. It was the blend.” His deep voice had been mimicked, each nurse laughing and swivelling their chairs to face the man of the fucking hour.

“I’m telling you.” He pointed once more, rounding the counter to sift through various exposed stacks of paperwork. “What’s this?”

“I’m filing it.”

“When? Tomorrow? Pick up the speed.” He kissed his teeth, swiping a paper cup of tea from the hourly cart. “Please.” He smiled, smearing his charm all over them and gesturing his definition of speed by rolling his hands in a continuous motion.

“Away you go.”

“Thank you, gorgeous.” He had a cheek really, pushing back from the station and scrunching a second paper cup to toss it in the bin with force. The reason for his cheek being, his own office. The absolute obliteration of a room that any mother would shake her head at, any sane person would form tears at, and any other doctor would take lethal punishment over.

It wasn’t just the papers. It was the oddity of the whole room, chaotic would be your best description. Littered with miscellaneous clutter, clothes, shoes, half finished food, unrelated books and photos — some familial, some from children on wards and others completely unserious like the framed image of Yoshi on his desk. No one ever bothered to ask.

He sat down with Mike’s clipboard in hand, eyes shifting between the monitor on his desk and the fucking excel rota. Your name was underneath his, scheduled for a mere ten hours, the shift looking like an alternative to heaven had Price not signed the contract that enabled over forty hour working weeks. The frown across his brow was a sight to see, clicking around on screen before reaching the digital rota purely to find your transfer notes. Ones embedded in his higher-ups chat.

He pulled his lip up, eyes skimming through your mere experience — fresh from med-school and training in obs and gynae, though excelled in early neurology modules.

Your reason for transfer wasn’t listed and Price lifted a brow, clicking his tongue against his teeth with a grimace expression. His fingers tapped the desk in a momentous motion, each one in succession of the other after pushing his sleeve up to check the time. Six thirty.

“Price.” Came a rapid knock on his door.

“What.” He replied, patting around his pockets for the vibrating pager that he had clicked off after standing up and opening the door.

“They need you on—“

“I’m going.” The midwife nodded at his cut off, speed walking alongside him to room fifteen where a flurry of doctors had gathered. “Right, clear it, clear it.” He cleared his throat, pulling gloves on and pushing the door open to see another frantic scene.

“What do we have?”

“In determination, sir.”

Price edged his way through a few nurses and introduced himself calmly, ducking to have a look at the issue after rolling his sleeves up. The head was forcing the umbilical cord down and out of mother, resulting in possible fatality if not delivered immediately. “Cord prolapse, page the anesthetics. We’ll need a maneuver.” The midwife nodded at him. “Knee to elbow, prepare for cesarean.”

Even urgent deliveries felt almost auto-pilot for him, like zoning out and entering a catatonic state when washing his hands thrice over and thumbing two separate rounds of gloves on. “Ready?” The scrub nurse accounted for each utensil as usual before nodding to Price who returned one.

Not everyone’s six am, but all in a morning's work for the man who would rather be anywhere else. He left the theater fifty minutes later. Standing for two minutes with his bloodied gloves up, waiting for a junior doctor to assess the stitching he had made. Now, two minutes isn’t a long time but it fucking well feels like it when your hands are up. “Never seen stitches before?”

“Why didn’t you staple?” She asked timidly.

He blinked lamely. “Because we had time.”

The poor girl nodded, apologising for the time and allowing the team to wrap up — Price leaving the room with a sigh. His watch read seven twenty, something he tsked at as bullshit before passing the nurses station. Though, not without attention. “John.”

“Hmm?” He looked up, brows furrowed like always. His scrubs covered in blood spats. “What.”

Non. Fucking. Stop.

“Your SHO is here.” His eyes then trailed to you, stood with fear plastered across your face and arms tight to your chest. “Tough delivery?” She batted her eyelashes at him, making you feel like an involuntary voyeur.

“Tough paperwork?” He replied sharply, leaning back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Where’s Mike?” Eyes giving your entire frame a once over as if determining your worth right there and then.

“Behind you.” She scoffed.

“Great.” Price turned, gesturing two hands Mike’s way for you to wander to. Much like a baby taking their first unsure steps. Though, Mike had already taken off by that point and John sighed, hands placed on his hips before looking back at you.

“S’fine, I can just—“

Though your sentence was cut by nerves.

Nerves and not the six foot something man before you who stood like a disappointed parent. Not that you knew where you were going with those four words anyway. “You’re the SHO, correct?” There was a crease in his brow, one that cropped up upon your bland nod. “Follow me.” He sounded and seemed physically pained by your presence, walking away down a long stretch of corridor that you swallowed at.

Your previous hospital, while being in the center of London, was small. Surprisingly so with the amount of foot traffic that would tumble through the rotating doors every day. You’d supposed to have lucked out with that, finding your feet in one of the only central hospitals to grant you a minute in the day to fucking practice what was taught.

Everywhere else seemed a free-for-all.

Price pushed open a door and leant against it till you had caught up. “Sorry.” Though he shrugged, pulling his foot back and letting it slam against the wood after you had entered.

“Scrub room.” He gestured, rubbing a finger on his upper lip for a second before turning to you. “Brats and Twats, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Obs and Gynae.” His face couldn’t convey nonchalance anymore than it did. If anything, you could trade the word for uncaring but that wasn’t as strong. His arm dropped back down to his side, cutting the silence you had created at the thought.

For god given embarrassment, words refused you and Price nodded. “I read it.” A beat, cocking his head at your daze. “On your transfer form.”

You were out of your element. Which was to be expected, sheepishly following him around after changing into scrubs. Price seemed important, that was easily gathered by his white coat and the nods he received in the hallway, his calm yet demanding tone, the seriousness in his brow and the way he offered little to no emotion in place of sarcasm. It all pointed to vanity if nothing else.

He was doing a walk around of labour ward when you had paused to peer into a room. The sound of screaming was usual, though the open door and team of doctors around one bed was something that caught your attention. Price shifted from behind you, “How many have you delivered?”

You turned to face him, faltering at his stare. Words barely stuttering from your lip, something perhaps a child would get away with. “None.” It felt embarrassing to say amidst the chaos. “I- I never had the chance.” Seemingly grasping at straws to defend yourself under Price’s weighted eyes.

“You’ll get a chance.” He said firmly, pulling his lip upward after leaning to view the patient room. “See one, fuck one up, teach one.” Your brows collapsed at his statement after he had begun to walk away again.

“You’re not going to help?”

He shook his head. “They’re fine.”

John had discarded you to the nurses after that. Retreating back to his office to put together not only a schedule but also a mental plan, accepting the fact that you were now his responsibility. Subsequently, you would also now be one of the best doctors in his service. It wasn’t a choice.

You were now a passion project for him. Of sorts.

He’d been busy most of the morning. Darting between sectors and floors without a break of any sort, though you’d come to learn from the nurses that Price doesn’t take breaks. Some hadn’t seen him eat in the five years they had been here.

Fuck that you said, taking someone’s orange and leaning on the nurses desk. Food was not escaping you. “He’s always been like that.” The head midwife, Joanna, would nod upon chatting about Price. Her eyes followed him and his glare. “Morning, John.”

“Mhm..”

“Can I ask you something?” She ticked off a few scribbled ward rounds on her clipboard, shoving it to the counter beside her.

Price stood with his arms crossed to check the measly whiteboard of the ward, one that held all patient information in a shit spreadsheet way. You’d never seen someone look so miserable, the wrinkles around his eyes were rare for the occasional smile, but a permanent crease existed between his brows. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Personal.”

“Even worse.”

You watched from the side, rolling your orange across the counter. The only chance you’d get to eat in the next nine hours. “Must be hard, eh?” She placed a hand on her hip. “Being such an arsehole.”

Price gave her a stiff laugh, his eyes catching yours over her shoulder. “Remember to remove the hard, shiny layer on the outside.” He nodded toward your fruit, arms expressionlessly dropped to his sides. “Need any help doing that?” Should’ve stuck to a fucking apple, maybe it’d have kept him away too.

“Point and case.” Joanna looked at him, flicking through a few pages of her discarded clipboard. “Can you check on room sixteen? I'm concerned she’s making slow progress.”

He sighed, taking all of four steps before he had paused to stare back at you. “Let’s go, kid.”

You ditched the orange, finding a mental note to mark that you had left it by the printer. John cleared his throat, lifting an arm to check the watch for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “Why’d you keep checking the time?”

“Time is important.” He began, “Tell me the time without looking at your watch.”

You shrugged and he tapped the side of his nose, pushing the door open with a grand sigh once you had reached the room. “See one, fuck one up, teach one.”

“Now?” At your pointed emphasis of the adverb, Price tilts his head, watching the redness fill your cheeks. He struggled to understand how you hadn’t been given a chance to deliver yet.

It was barely two hours into your first shift and he was already throwing you in deep. You sensed a potential pattern, “I told you you’d get a chance.”

Fuck.

comfortably numb by pink floyd. this’ll be a series of five or so parts, unsure yet, might take it to ao3 instead.

i’m still figuring out how i want to write this world and the characters so give it a chance, the second part’ll probably be better. + one or two nicked jokes from medical tv shows🤺

it’s unedited btw i gotta work but i’ll edit later or smth

as always always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated for boosts. if no one pats me on the head every now and then i’ll sit in a hole.

any and all cod characters taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @luvfromkat @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @mistydeyes @dilfdotgov @sofasoap @bubbyblob

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kckt88 · 3 months

Text

Cruel Intentions.

Summary:

Two brothers who attend an elite university make a bet: to deflower the new dean's daughter before the start of the new semester.

Warning(s): Language, Drug Taking, Slight Homophobic Language, Bet Making, Maniplulation, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M Recieving), P in V, Major Character Death.

MODERN AEMOND x O.C & AEGON x ALYS. - (HINTED AEMOND x ALYS & MINOR AEMOND x FLORIS BARATHEON)

HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE MOVIE - CRUEL INTENTIONS

Word Count: 8124

Taglist - @immyowndefender, @mrsbarnes314, @dixie-elocin, @targaryenbarbie, @ammo23

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“What are we betting for?” asked Aemond.

“Money of course” quipped Aegon stubbing out his cigarette.

“Seriously-how boring, let’s put something really worthwhile on the line” said Aemond.

“Ok-If I win, I get your car”.

“And if I win?” asked Aemond pursing his lips.

“I’ll let you fuck my girlfriend” replied Aegon.

“Not even remotely worth it” quipped Aemond.

“Oh please-I see the way you look at Alys”.

“Again-Not interested” retorted Aemond.

“Not even if I tell you that Alys will let you put your cock anywhere-she’s into all sorts of freaky shit” said Aegon smirking.

Aemond paused as he thought over his brother’s proposition, he wasn’t wrong when he pointed out his fixation with Alys, she was a little older and she was so fucking beautiful, and she had a spectacular set of breasts that he just wanted to bury his face between and worship.

Of course, there were other parameters of the bet that needed to be discussed but a chance to stick his cock into Alys was more than enough to gain his acceptance and the fact that she was allegedly into freaky shit intrigued him thoroughly.

He was sick of bedding insipid debutants who’s shoe size was higher than their I.Q, he wanted someone different.

“I accept-now what are the actual terms of the bet?” asked Aemond.

“You know the new dean’s daughter-“

“-Reese Hargrove?” asked Aemond.

“Yeah, that one-little miss prim and proper thinks she too good for anyone, so I say we knock her down a peg or two” replied Aegon.

“-And how do we do that?”

“You will seduce her and then discard her” said Aegon.

“Seriously? That’s too easy-not even remotely enough of a challenge” laughed Aemond.

“Did I mention that she’s a proper daddy’s little princess-“

“Again boring” said Aemond yawning.

“-And a virgin” replied Aegon smirking.

“How’d you know that?” asked Aemond curiously.

“I take it you didn’t read her manifesto in the University magazine” asked Aegon as he threw a copy onto the glass table.

“Menstrual cramps?” asked Aemond as he glanced at the front cover.

“Shut up and turn to page sixty four” snapped Aegon.

Aemond rolled his eye and picked up the magazine, he flicked through the pages until he found the one, he wanted.

“Why I plan to wait by Reese Hargrove-Jesus christ is she for real?” asked Aemond.

“Oh, she’s daddy’s little angel-a paradigm of chastity and virtue”.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as Aegon ripped the magazine from his grasp.

“Let’s see-boring, boring, boring-I love my parents, boring, boring, boring-making a mature decision-oh here, she has a boyfriend named Trevor, been going out for a year and he understands” said Aegon mockingly.

“What a loser” snarked Aemond rolling his eye.

“My point is-you and I have fucked our way through most of the girls at university, which is hardly a challenge anymore”.

“So, all I have to do is fuck her and I win the bet?” asked Aemond.

“Pretty much-but if you’re thinking it’ll be easy then your wrong-” muttered Aegon.

“How do you even know that?

“Remember that chick I told you about over Easter?” said Aegon.

“The one who broke your nose after you tried to finger-wait that was her?” asked Aemond trying to stifle his laughter.

A girl with some bite to her-this could be interesting.

“Yes, it was her, humiliated me in front of everyone so now it’s payback time”.

“So, this bet is just your desperate attempt at getting revenge against a girl who wasn’t interested in you-for fuck sake Aegon” muttered Aemond running a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

“Oh, cut the moral high ground shit brother it doesn’t suit you-or do I need to remind you of the time you fucked your way through all of the Baratheon sisters in the space of a week”.

“Far point-so I fuck Hargrove and then what?” asked Aemond.

“Providing you have proof of the deed being done, then I’ll let you fuck Alys” replied Aegon.

“What does Alys say about all this-” mused Aemond.

“Well of course I asked her before I discussed things with you, and she agreed-“

“-Just like that?” asked Aemond disbelief.

“We have a semi open relationship remember-as long we tell each other that we want to fuck someone else, then it’s ok. Sometimes we even share” shrugged Aegon.

“Well, I’m not into sharing” growled Aemond.

“Do you seriously think I want to see your bare arse-no thanks. I just meant that me and Alys are open to many forms of expressing ourselves and our love” said Aegon.

“-And you’re ok with her potentially fucking your own brother?”

“You have to win the bet first” laughed Aegon.

“-And if I fail?”

“I get your car which I will make sure to fuck Alys in” quipped Aegon smirking.

“Fine-you’re on” said Aemond holding out his hand.

“There was me thinking you’d need a little more convincing”.

“Thing is, can you imagine what this would do for my reputation? Screwing the new deans daughter before the semester starts” mused Aemond.

“Would be one of your greatest victories-aside from the school nurse that you fucked last year, I’m still surprised they didn’t kick you out for that” said Aegon reaching for his silver cross necklace and pulling away the end.

The white power lingering on the small scoop spilled over the edge as Aegon lifted it to his nose and inhaled it in one sharp breath.

“Speaking of getting kicked out-if mum and dad see you doing that, they will go crazy, they told you last time that there were no more chances” said Aemond.

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them-besides you need to start making nice with Reese”.

“I suppose this would make an interesting chapter”.

“Oh, gee your journal, could you be any more queer?” said Aegon.

“Could you be more desperate to read it” smirked Aemond.

“I would say good luck brother-you’re going to need it-besides it might be worth mentioning that you only have a limited time in which to get Hargrove into bed” replied Aegon.

“What do you mean?”

“Her father’s preoccupied with getting ready for the new semester, so Reese is staying at our aunt’s place for a few weeks, but I also know that she’ll be spending the last two weeks of summer break at her grandmothers place-so that means you’ve only got four weeks to win the bet” said Aegon.

“FUCK” exclaimed Aemond as he turned on his heel and left the room.

“Your home is so beautiful Mrs Hightower” exclaimed Reese, her grip tightening on the reins of the horse she was riding.

“Oh, thank you-It’s been in my family for over a hundred years”.

“I’ve never seen anything like it” replied Reese.

“Does your family ride much?”

“My grandfather used to breed horses on his farm-“ said Reese softly.

“Really how-“

Suddenly the sound of a distant bang echoed through the air.

“What was that?” asked Reese looking around in alarm.

“Oh, Aemond must be here”.

Reese smiled at Mrs Hightower and directed her horse to follow as they entered a small clearing.

“Pull” shouted Aemond and he aimed the shotgun he was holding towards the sky.

The accompanying attendant pressed a button, and a small clay disk was launched into the air, and without skipping a beat, Aemond pulled the trigger and shot the clay out of the sky.

“Aemond”

“Ahh fuck me” muttered Aemond as he handed the attendant the shot gun and plastered a fake smile on his face before he raced over to his aunt.

“Sweetpea”.

“Aunt Ellen-god I’ve missed you” exclaimed Aemond as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I miss you too”.

“I’ve been looking all over for you” replied Aemond sweetly.

“Now, I want you to meet Reese-and be nice”.

“Well-well-“ muttered Aemond as he slowly walked towards Reese who was still sat upon the chestnut mare.

“Reese Hargrove-this is my nephew Aemond Targaryen”.

“I do believe you’ve already met my older brother Aegon” said Aemond as he reached forward and helped Reese climb down from the saddle.

“Briefly” replied Reese clapping her hands together slowly to dispel the dirt.

“Reese will be staying with me for a few weeks”.

“Interesting-that makes two of us” muttered Aemond as he folded his arms behind his back.

“Thank you for helping” muttered Reese.

“Aunt Ellen, why don’t you go a whip us up some of that iced tea of yours and I’ll tend to Reese” said Aemond smiling.

“Alright-you two don’t get into any trouble”.

“We won’t” said Reese and Aemond in unison.

Aemond waited until his aunt had disappeared inside before he took Reese’s hand and led her towards the manor.

“Come on-quickly, lots to see” urged Aemond.

“Ok” muttered Reese.

“I read your manifesto” said Aemond.

“Oh, you did” replied Reese smiling.

“Hm-I must say I found it rather appalling”.

“That’s a first, most people praise me for it,” said Reese.

“Most people are sheep-who are you to criticise something you’ve never experienced”.

“I wasn’t criticising anything-it’s just my belief that people shouldn’t experience the act of love, until they are in love. I just don’t think people our age are mature enough to experience those kinds of emotions”.

“Are you a lesbian?” asked Aemond smirking.

“No”

“I didn’t mean to offend you-I just picked up on a little bit of that lesbian vibe”.

“Look-I wouldn’t expect a man of your experience to understand my beliefs”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Aemond.

“I’m well aware of your reputation and that of your older brother,” said Reese.

“What have you heard?”

“That you promise girls the world to get them in bed with you, but then again I suppose that’s a better approach than your brother who thinks he can just take whatever he wants”.

“I heard about that-Aegon shouldn’t have done it, but I heard you were pretty adept at defending yourself” said Aemond.

“You almost sound impressed” muttered Reese raising her eyebrow.

“Oh, believe me I am” replied Aemond smiling as he walked away.

Later that night after her shower, Reese was sitting alone in her bedroom reading a book, when the sound of loud opera music broke her concentration.

“What the-“ muttered Reese as she put the book down and looked around bewildered.

A few minutes later she let her bedroom and wen in search of someone who could tell her what was going on, gods the music was so loud.

Noticing the lights on in the pool house, Reese slowly opened the door and went inside.

“Hello-Excuse me” said Reese loudly.

Just when she was about to give up and look elsewhere, Reese spotted Aemond sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, his hand absentmindedly swirling in the air as he reclined against the cushions.

“Excuse me” said Reese as she slowly approached Aemond.

“What a pleasant surprise” replied Aemond as he paused the music.

“Are you aware that this music is playing in every room of the house?”

“It’s not-just yours, I thought you’d like it” said Aemond.

Reese scoffed and turned around full intent on walking back to her room, until Aemond pressed the remote again and ‘Lovefool by the Cardigans’ began blasting through the speakers.

“So, what were you doing in your room?” asked Aemond smirking as Reese turned back to face him.

“Reading-“

“-Anything interesting?” asked Aemond as he levered himself off his chair.

“Yes actually-it was quite intriguing” replied Reese.

“I got you a gift” said Aemond as he reached behind one of the ornate stone pillars and handed Reese a leather bag, embossed with her name.

“What-“ exclaimed Reese.

“Something to start the new semester with”.

“You didn’t have to do this” muttered Reese softly.

“I get it -you hate it” snapped Aemond as he pulled the bag out of Reese’s hand only for her to snatch it back.

“No-I love it, you just didn’t have to, that’s all” retorted Reese.

“Do you think you can pry yourself away from your reading and join me for a swim?”

“Ok-just give me a minute” muttered Reese and she turned away from Aemond and left the pool house.

Aemond nodded and then proceeded to get undressed, having no qualms at all about being completely naked. Reese’s reaction to his nudity would be very interesting.

Suddenly his mobile rang, Aemond grimaced when he saw the name highlighted on the screen, but he answered, nonetheless.

“Alys”

“Fuck her yet?” asked Alys.

“I’m working on it”

“Loser” replied Alys.

“Blow me”

“Call me later? Aegon wants to go for a drink” mused Alys.

“Ok” said Aemond as he hung up the call and threw his phone onto the chair.

With the music now playing softly in the background, Aemond placed a towel around his neck and turned his back to the door.

Sure, enough the door opened, and a soft gasp of surprise echoed around the tiled room, Aemond smiled before he slowly turned giving Reese a complete view of his naked body.

“Do you mind turning around so I could put on my bathing suit?” asked Aemond thoroughly delighted by Reese’s reaction.

“I-I’m sorry” muttered Reese and she placed a hand over her eyes and turned away.

It was only when she heard the splash of water that turned back to face Aemond who was now in the pool.

Reese took a deep breath before she untied her robe and descended into the warm pool.

“Your right you know” muttered Aemond.

“About what?” asked Reese.

“What you said today-I’ve done something I’m not proud of”

“Look I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time-“

“-No, it’s ok, I mean look at you with all your morals and values, you seem to be happy in your choices, I envy you. No bullshit”

“Really” asked Reese curiously.

“Seriously-you’ve got everything going for you-your smart, beautiful, determined. Everything I’d want in a girlfriend” said Aemond.

“You know I’m seeing someone-“

“-Oh yes, the infamous Trevor, it’s funny you haven’t mentioned him until now”

“He’s backpacking through Europe-He’s great, I really miss him,” said Reese.

“I’m here” whispered Aemond as he reached out and slowly ran his hand down Reese’s arm.

“I’m sorry but you are not my type”.

“Honestly?” wondered Aemond.

“Yeah-your smart, your beautiful, listing my qualities on your fingers is not going to get you anywhere with me, the best you can hope for is my friendship and your really walking a fine line at that” replied Reese as she moved away from Aemond and climbed out of the pool.

Aemond watched aghast as the wet swimsuit clung to every one of Reese’s curves, her body swaying slightly as she picked up a towel and left the room.

“Night sweet pea” snarked Aemond as he lowered himself into the water.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Oh no what am I going to do”.

“Is something wrong?” asked Aemond as he sat at the breakfast table.

“That was Mrs Collins-their short of volunteers over at the retirement home, but I have theatre tickets for this afternoon”.

“Oh no that’s terrible” said Aemond softly.

“I have a thought why don’t you two fill in for me”.

“I’d love to” said Reese smiling.

“You two are the best-thank you, so sweet of you”.

“Can’t help it” said Aemond pulling a face as his aunt kissed him on the head and hugged him.

Gods, how he found himself in such a predicament Aemond would never know, for the love of all that was holy why did he have to open his big mouth.

He supposed it was another opportunity to spend time with Reese, but the car ride on the way to the retirement home had been rather awkward with neither one of them not knowing what to say to the other.

The retirement home itself had a funny smell to it and just as Aemond hoped to be paired with Reese, he was shoved into a room with an old lady called Mrs Sugarman.

Turns out she was quite senile, so he could work that to his advantage, he supposed sitting in a chair and doing the crossword puzzle was the only semblance of entertainment he would have for the next few hours.

“Oh, did I ever tell you the time, when my late husband sent me-“

“Yes, you already did, Mrs. Sugarman” replied Aemond.

“Oh, I did?”

“Right after we played backgammon, Mrs. Sugarman” muttered Aemond.

“Oh! We played backgammon”,

“Uh huh. You beat me three times” exclaimed Aemond.

“I did?”

“Yeah, and I fucked your daughter-“ said Aemond.

“What?”

“I said would you care for some water?” asked Aemond smiling sweetly.

“No thank you dear”.

Aemond rolled his eye and resumed his crossword puzzle.

Suddenly a knock at the door, had Aemond springing into action as he put down the newspaper and sat behind Mrs Sugarman, smiling.

“How’s going in here?” asked the nurse.

“We played backgammon, and I won three times” exclaimed Mrs Sugarman excitedly.

“Oh well done” said the nurse brightly.

“Isn’t it wonderful” gasped Mrs Sugarman.

“See I told you she was special” said the nurse as she hugged Reese who smiled widely at Aemond.

As they got in the car for the drive home, Reese reached into her pocket and pulled out a beaded bracelet.

“What’s that?” asked Aemond.

“A friendship bracelet-I made it with Mr Gottlieb” replied Reese.

“Sounds like you had a productive day” mused Aemond as he watched Reese tie the mismatched beaded bracelet round his wrist.

It was positively ghastly, the colours were wrong, it made a weird clicking sound when he moved his hand and it clashed terribly with his outfit, but he found himself unwilling to tell Reese any of those things, so he kept quiet and decided to wear the damn thing if it made her happy, as making her sad invoked a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“You know I actually feel good about myself-Mrs Sugarman was cool” said Aemond.

“Oh, come on your trying to tell me that you had a good time with that old lady”.

“I did, we played three games of backgammon and-oh alright I was bored out of my mind” said Aemond frowning.

“It’s ok-it doesn’t make you a bad person”

“It does-“ muttered Aemond.

“No, it doesn’t” replied Reese softly.

“I can’t win with you” quipped Aemond.

“It’s not about winning Aemond-you know what you take yourself far too seriously”.

“I do not” snapped Aemond.

“Yes, you do-you should lighten up” laughed Reese.

“I am lightened up can we just drop this”.

“Ok-fine” replied Reese shrugging, but as Aemond huffed, she turned to him and began pulling faces.

“What are you doing?” asked Aemond.

Reese ignored him and continued to pull faces.

“Cut it out-it’s distracting, I said stop that” exclaimed Aemond smiling.

“Are you smiling?” asked Reese.

“No”.

“It’s ok, you can laugh-I won’t tell anyone” replied Reese softly.

Aemond looked over at Reese briefly before he returned his attention to driving, but his heart skipped a beat when he felt her take his hand and entwine their fingers.

Gods the music was loud, it was almost hurting his eardrums.

Why in the fuck had he let Aegon talk him into coming here was beyond him. The place was cheap and smelled like rancid shit, but it served its purpose.

He needed a distraction, his days were being consumed by Reese and it was driving him insane, the more time he spent around her the more he wanted her, but she didn’t give any inclination that she was interested. Sure, she’d held his hand in the car but that was it, nothing had happened in the days since.

Probably wasn’t the best idea to come here and get shit faced, as his frustrations surrounding Reese and the copious amounts of alcohol that he’d consumed did not make for a good combination, and it led to some pretty bad decision making on his part when he happened upon Floris Baratheon and allowed her to suck his cock in one of the toilet cubicles.

If he squinted his eyes enough, he could almost imagine that he was Reese, that it was her lips stretched around his cock, that it was her hands grasping at his thighs as he ruthlessly fucked her mouth.

But it wasn’t-it was Floris, and he knew he would end up regretting this later, but he needed to come, he was desperate. In his pursuit of Reese, he’d gone from regularly indulging in depraved and debauched sex to nothing and he needed this, to clear his mind if anything.

He just wished Floris would shut the fuck up, her little moans were distracting him, he screwed his eyes shut and he saw Reese smiling at him, her blue eyes twinkling in the-

“FUCK” moaned Aemond as his spilt rope after rope of come into Floris’ mouth.

He probably should have lingered a while longer, but as soon as he tucked his softened cock back into his trousers, he couldn’t wait to get out of there, he didn’t want Floris getting the wrong idea-again.

He placed a quick kiss on her forehead and practically vaulted himself out of the cubicle and made a hasty exit from the shithole that Aegon had dragged him too, he did consider looking for his brother, but he was more than likely piss drunk and cock deep in Alys or some bimbo they’d found.

So, he hailed a taxi and went back to his aunts manor, hoping that tomorrow would be brighter day.

Aemond sighed deeply as he watched Reese through a pair of binoculars, upon hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, he and turns to find Alys standing behind him.

“Aegon’s looking for you”.

“Hm”.

“Who are you spying on?” asked Alys as she snatched the binoculars from Aemond’s hand.

“No one” muttered Aemond.

“Is that her?”

“Yeah”

“Oh no she’s crying-little baby seems upset by the big bad book” mocked Alys.

“Shut up” snapped Aemond.

“What’s up your arse?”

“Nothing”

“She’s really getting to you isn’t she” quipped Alys.

“If you must know yes-I don’t know what to do. I can’t stand that holier than thou bullshit, yet I’m completely infatuated with her, she made me laugh”.

“So that’s why you’re going to lose the bet with Aegon?” mused Alys as she examined her red painted nails.

“I’m not losing the bet-it’s just taking a little longer than I expected”.

“Mind if I take Aegon’s new car for a ride?” asked Alys as she leaned forward and kissed Aemond on the corner of his mouth.

“Alys-the only thing you’re going to be riding is me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do” replied Aemond quietly.

Reese looked up from her book and smiled as she saw Aemond approaching.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle” whispered Aemond as he knelt down and slowly pressed a kiss to her left cheek then her right.

“Bonjour Monsieur Targaryen” replied Reese as Aemond’s lips met hers.

He leaned forward slightly, trying to manoeuvre her onto her back as they kissed, his tongue sliding against hers.

“Aemond. No” said Reese as she sat up and pushed him away.

“I’m sorry about that” muttered Aemond as he stood up.

“I am too” whispered Reese.

“You know what-I’m not sorry. I don’t take it back”.

“I thought we were just going to be friends?” asked Reese.

“I-I can’t handle it. I can’t keep my feelings all bottled up like you. Can you honestly tell me that you feel nothing for me?”

“Yes, I have feelings for you Aemond”.

“T-Then what’s wrong. It’s not like you have a husband. Unless your married to Jesus”

“That’s not fair” snapped Reese.

“Do you really want to know why?”

“Yes, I want to know why” retorted Aemond.

“Because I don’t trust myself with you” snapped Reese as she stood up and left Aemond alone.

Later that night as she sat brushing her blonde hair, Reese was startled by a sharp knock at the door.

“Come in”.

The door opened slowly and Aemond walked in, his expression giving nothing away as he stood in front of her.

“I just came to say goodbye”.

“Where are you going?” asked Reese.

“Back to the city-I might go to the south of France until the end of summer. I just can’t take your games anymore” said Aemond shrugging.

“What games?”

“Oh, come off it, your hot one minute, cold the next. You make me feel inadequate” said Aemond bluntly.

“Well, I guess if that’s how I’m making you feel then it’s for the best that your leaving”.

“Good for you” muttered Aemond as he turned around and went to open the door.

“Aemond-I don’t want us to part on bad terms” muttered Reese.

“Well, I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter-you’re a hypocrite and I don’t associate with hypocrites”.

“How am I a hypocrite?” asked Reese.

“Oh, please Reese. You spend all your time preaching about waiting for love. Well, here it is. Right in front of you, and you're going to turn your back on it. So, I guess we're just fucked. I'll move on. But you are going to have to live the rest of your life knowing that you've turned your back on love. And that makes you a hypocrite. Have a nice life”.

“Wait” gasped Reese.

There was a beat of silence before Reese slowly walked towards Aemond, placed her hands in his face and kissed him.

Their tongues moved together as they slowly walked backwards towards the bed.

“Aemond” moaned Reese as she began to undo the buttons on his trousers.

For a brief moment Aemond was stunned to silence, as he watched Reese climb onto the bed and undo the buttons on her silken p.j top, his chest becoming more exposed with every undone button.

This was happening, she was giving herself to him. She was soft and sweet, like a ripe peach ready for the taking.

But he couldn’t do it, something was stopping him, he didn’t know what it was, but the feeling of uncertainty swirled within him almost to the point of making him feel sick.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t” spluttered Aemond as he turned around and left the room.

The tears rolled down Reese’s cheeks as she quickly buttoned her p.j top back up, she had offered herself to him and in turn he had rejected her.

She couldn’t stay here now, not after this.

“Morning” said Aegon brightly as he handed Aemond a coffee.

“Morning” replied Aemond through gritted teeth.

“So, how’d it go last night with Reese?”

“If your asking if a nailed her then the answer is no-“

“She shot you down” asked Aegon smirking.

“Exactly the opposite” admitted Aemond.

“So, what went wrong”.

“I don’t know-she was laying on the bed ready to do it and I was-I just didn’t feel right about it” said Aemond.

“Your telling me you had the chance to fuck her, and you didn’t-god are you pathetic”.

“Fuck off” snapped Aemond leaping off the bed.

“Oh, if your heading towards her room, you won’t find her”.

“Where is she?”

“You don’t know-she left thirty minutes ago” retorted Aegon smirking.

“Where did she go?” demanded Aemond.

“She apologised to our aunt and then told her she was going to stay with some friends in the city-you blew it Aemond, that girls come to her senses, and she’ll never go near you again”.

Aemond let out a growl of frustration before he stormed out of the room, he had to go after her, tell her he’s sorry.

She’d obviously left because of him and what happened last night, and the thought that he wouldn’t see her everyday had left him feeling hollow.

After speaking to his aunt, who told him that Reese had taken a taxi to the train station, Aemond got in his car and put his foot down in the hopes that he could beat the train and arrive at the station in the city before she did.

After the train pulled into the station, Reese grabbed her things and stepped onto the platform, she felt guilty about her hasty departure from Mrs HighTower’s manor, but she couldn’t stay not after last night-she’d fallen in love with Aemond, and it hurt when he rejected her. His reputation of bedding copious amounts of women seemed a little exaggerated in that moment.

As she stepped onto the escalator, Reese couldn’t help but think about Aemond, she wondered if he was ok, and she hoped he wasn’t too upset when he’d discovered that she’d gone.

As the escalator ascended, there he was standing there, looking at her as if she was the only person the world.

“I’m impressed”

“Well, I’m in love” said Aemond he cupped her cheeks and kissed her, not caring if they were in the middle of a packed train station.

She had fled and he had chased her, this was their moment, and no one was going to take it from them.

“I-I’m ready. Make me yours” whispered Reese as she pulled off her clothes.

Reese laid down and smiled shyly as Aemond gazed at her naked body.

"So beautiful” whispered Aemond as he slowly reached out and ran his fingers over Reese’s breasts.

Goosebumps erupted over Reese’s skin as Aemonds hand began to move lower.

“I-I need to prepare you” whispered Aemond.

“P-prepare me?” whispered Reese.

“I don’t want to hurt you” replied Aemond as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Reese’s lips.

Reese gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.

“O-Oh Aemond” exclaimed Reese as he slipped a finger inside her.

Aemond buried his face in Reese’s neck as he added another finger to prepare her as best he could.

Aemond removed his fingers and then laid between Reese’s open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against his cock her now slick entrance.

Reese shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.

Reese’s cunny choked his cock so tight that he needed a few seconds to adjust, making him terribly aware that he was not going to last for too long.

Aemond’s cock twitched and throbbed with need, and he released a shuddered breath while Reese sighed in relief.

“The pain will ease,” rasped Aemond.

Aemond was generous enough to start with a slow, deep grinding that soon enough turned the stinging pain into pleasure.

“Gods be good,” panted Reese, gripping Aemond’s shoulders.

“Fuck. You were made for me. You were made to fit my cock in this sweet cunt of yours.” breathed Aemond as he increased the pace of this thrusts.

“A-Aemond. Please.” exclaimed Reese her nails digging into his shoulders.

“Tell me you want me” moaned Aemond his hips slapping against hers.

“I-I want you, Please Aemond” gasped Reese.

“I love you-I love you so much” exclaimed Aemond as his thrusts beginning to stagger. He was close. So close.

“Love you too” gasped Reese as she felt Aemond’s fingers encircling her pearl in tandem with his thrusts.

It felt like lightning had shot across her stomach. Gods it felt so good.

“I want you to come-come for me” moaned Aemond, he needed her to come before him, he would not disgrace himself.

“AEMOND” screamed Reese.

Aemond pushed into the hilt for one last time and let out a long loud groan as he painted her insides with his white hot spend.

Later that night as he escorted Reese to her waiting taxi, Aemond couldn’t contain his happiness, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was worth something. That he wasn’t totally soulless, and he’d found the capacity to love and in turn be loved, and it was all down to Reese.

As he watched the taxi drive away, he thought that nothing in this world could ruin his happiness, but of course he was completely oblivious to the looming figures of Aegon and Alys silently watching him from the balcony.

The next morning, Aemond had left the apartment bright and early, he’d gone for a run and stopped by a flower shop on the way home, buying flowers for a girl was a completely new experience for him but Reese was worth it.

He arrived back home, clutching the bouquet of flowers but was stopped in his tracks when he spotted Alys sitting on the edge of his bed, in only her underwear.

“A-Alys” gasped Aemond as he placed the flowers on his desk.

“I hear that you succeeded in your task”.

“Hm” replied Aemond.

“So, I thought that we could make the necessary arrangements” mused Alys as she reached out towards Aemond’s groin, only for him to push her away.

“Some other time” replied Aemond as he walked away, ignoring the look of fury on Alys’ face.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not in the mood” said Aemond slamming the door shut.

He needed to get out of here, he needed to get away from Alys and Aegon, so he did the only thing he could think of and rang Reese, she spoke softly to him and whispered words of love, it calmed him down immensely and making plans to see her later that day made his heart skip a beat, he was too engrossed in the phone call to even notice Aegon entering the room.

“I love you too” muttered Aemond before he ended the phone call.

“I love you too-my god you’re completely pussy whipped” said Aegon flatly.

“Stop it” ordered Aemond.

“Oh, come on Aemond it’s just a bet” replied Aegon as he looked over at Alys as she shut the wooden sliding doors.

Alys walked over to Aemond and kissed him, her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, until her pushed her away.

“This is ridiculous” laughed Aemond.

“What’s ridiculous dear brother is you-look at what you’ve been reduced too, have you given any thought to what’s going to happen once the semester starts-not only are you dating miss manifesto but she’s also the new deans daughter” said Aegon.

“Stop it”

“Before you know it, you’ll be giving campus tours with her-oh wait her father doesn’t know about your past, does he? I doubt he’ll let his little princess be seen with the likes of you. Quite disappointing to see that Reese’s manifesto was a total sham, I think he has a right to know” said Aegon picking up the phone.

“Put the phone down” ordered Aemond.

“Oh, this will only take a second” replied Aegon.

Aemond lurched forward and snatched the phone out of his brother’s hand, before slamming down on the desk.

“Quite the predicament you’re in” mused Aegon.

“I don’t care what either of you say, the fact of the matter is that I was planning on telling her everything this afternoon” said Aemond pulling on his long black coat.

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot, your so in love” mocked Alys.

“Do you honestly think that you’ve changed in the few weeks you’ve known her. Let me tell you something little brother-people don’t change overnight. You and I are two of a kind, at least I have the guts to admit it-you were going to leave University and legend, now all you’ll be is a joke”.

“I-I’m willing to take my chances” said Aemond reaching for the door.

“Don’t do it Aemond, you’ll not only ruin your reputation, but you’ll destroy hers”.

Aemond didn’t respond, he gave Alys and his brother one last look before leaving the room.

Aemond walked around the city for hours, thinking about Reese, the bet and what he should do, his brother’s words playing on a loop in his mind.

He seemed to walk aimlessly, without any sense of direction, letting his feet carry him wherever they desired, until he found himself standing in front of the apartment complex where Reese was staying with her friends.

After taking a deep breath, Aemond entered the building and knocked on the door.

“Hi” breathed Reese as she opened the door.

“Hey” replied Aemond solemnly as Reese pulled him in for a kiss.

After a few minutes Reese, pulled away and then gave him a quick tour of the apartment, she smiled sweetly as she took his hand and pulled him into a well-lit bedroom.

“This is my room”.

“It’s nice-“ mumbled Aemond.

“Do you think we can be quiet? asked Reese suggestively.

“There’s something I have to tell you”.

“Ok-tell me” replied Reese.

“This isn’t working out for me anymore”.

“Yeah, me neither-what’s wrong?” said Reese.

“It’s not you-it’s me. I’m completely fucked up”.

“What are you saying?” asked Reese.

“I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a lie-I wanted it to work but unfortunately. I feel nothing”.

“Why you are you doing this?”

“I just wanted to see what you were like in bed” muttered Aemond his shoulders slumping.

“I know you don’t mean that” gasped Reese.

“You know nothing-you don’t even know me; the fact of the matter is there is someone I want and you don’t even compare to her”

“I don’t believe you”.

“I don’t know how to make this any clearer-you mean nothing to me; you were just a conquest” snapped Aemond.

“Your such a coward-look at yourself, your shaking. Is that what you came to tell me”.

“Listen I’m sorry I’m completely-“

“-Yeah, your completely fucked up-get out”

“Reese-“ said Aemond reaching towards her.

“Don’t touch me”.

“Please-“ whispered Aemond.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME AEMOND-GET OUT” screamed Reese as she slapped him across the face.

Aemond stood stunned for a moment, watching the tears roll down Reese’s cheeks. His heart pounding in his chest.

“Just leave” begged Reese as she turned away from him.

Aemond bowed his head and then left the room, furiously wiping at his own tears as they fell.

“Jesus-a little melodramatic don’t you think” said Aegon as he spotted Aemond sitting in a darkened corner of the room.

“I thought you’d like to know what happened between me and Reese-It’s over”.

“Really?” asked Aegon.

“You were right-I can’t change, you and I are two of a kind, I thought we should celebrate” replied Aemond as he pulled out a bottle of champagne.

“I’d love to-but unfortunately I’m expecting Alys” said Aegon examining his nails.

“Great-As I’ve won the bet, I guess it makes sense for Alys to be here. We we’ll need to make arrangements after all”.

“We do” nodded Aegon as he took the half-filled glass from Aemond.

“What shall we toast too?” asked Aemond as he lifted the glass of champagne in the air.

“To my triumph” said Aegon smugly.

“Not my choice of toasts, but it’s your call-to your triumph over Reese” retorted Aemond as he downed the contents of his glass.

Aegon however let out a melodious giggle.

“What’ so funny?” asked Aemond.

“Silly rabbit-my triumph isn’t over her, it’s over you”.

“Come again?” asked Aemond confused.

“You were very much in love with her, and your still in love with her-but it amused me to make you ashamed of it-you gave up on the first person you ever loved, because I threatened your reputation, don’t you get it your just a toy Aemond, a little toy I like to play with and now you’ve completely blown it with her, I think it’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard-cheers” said Aegon as he lifted the glass of champagne to his lips.

Aemond stood their stunned to silence at his brother’s revelation.

“Hmmm tastes good” exclaimed Aegon.

“Aegon-“

“I also feel I have to tell you that, no arrangement will be made for you to have your way with Alys-you see she doesn’t fuck losers” said Aegon smirking.

Aemond nodded his head solemnly before he left the room.

“Will you please just tell her that I called?” asked Aemond desperately before he slammed the phone down.

Slumping in his seat, Aemond reached for his leather bound journal and ripped it open.

He had to speak to Reese, he had to make things right with her.

After spending hours furiously writing page after page, Aemond wrapped up his journal and began walking to the apartment where Reese was staying, of course Mrs Michalak refused to allow him entry into the apartment or even tell Aemond where Reese was, but he was desperate.

“Please-will you just give her this” begged Aemond.

“Of course,” replied Mrs Michalak as she took the journal.

“T-Tell her I’m sorry please-Reese if you’re in there. I’m sorry” said Aemond loudly.

“Mr Targaryen, that is enough-Now I need you to leave” urged Mrs Michalak.

“Tell her, that I’m not going anywhere-I will wait for as long as it takes”.

“Goodbye Mr Targaryen” snapped Mrs Michalak before she slammed the door.

“Fucking bitch” muttered Aemond under his breath before he walked away.

-Later that night-

Reese stared at the envelop gripped between her fingers and for the briefest of moments she considered throwing it in the bin, before curiosity got the better of her and she opened it.

Dear Reese, I don’t know what I could possibly say that would rectify the harm I’ve caused you. The truth of the matter is that being with you was the only time I have ever been happy. My whole life has been a joke. I prided myself on taking joy in others’ misery. Well, it finally backfired. I succeed in hurting the first person I ever loved.

Enclosed is my most prized possession. My journal. For a long time, I considered it my trophy. A sordid collection of my conquests. If you really want to know the truth than please read it. No more lies. Please give me another chance. I’m a wreck without you.

Your, Aemond.

Reese tore the brown paper that was wrapped around the leather bound journal and opened it.

Completely unprepared for what she was about to read.

All night he waited, sitting opposite the apartment building hoping and praying that he would catch a glimpse of Reese as she passed by her window.

But he didn’t, he’d made a massive mistake, and he had no idea how to fix it, Reese was the first girl that he’d ever loved, and he had broken her heart.

He’d allowed himself to become entangled in one of his brother’s sick twisted games and it was Reese that had paid the price, she didn’t deserve any of this. Maybe it was for the best that he left her alone, as much as it hurt to think of never seeing or speaking to her again, it wasn’t about him, it was about her.

So, with a breath of determination, Aemond decided it was for the best that he went home.

Casting one last baleful look at the apartment building, Aemond walked down the street, completely oblivious to Reese looking out of the window, and watching as he walked away.

It must be madness the drove her, but she couldn’t let him leave like that, so she decided to follow him, she had no idea what she was going to say once she caught up with him but that was a plan for later.

“Son of a bitch-Targaryen”

“Who-oh hey Roland” said Aemond.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” snapped Roland.

“What else am I meant to say”.

“You know Floris told me what you did”.

“Floris-I haven’t seen her in months” replied Aemond.

“What about your little escapade in the club toilets not to long ago”

“Oh-shit” muttered Aemond, he knew that was going to come back and haunt him.

“You think it’s appropriate to do that to my little sister” snarled Roland as he shoved Aemond backwards.

“Oh, get over it Roly she willingly got on her knees and sucked my cock-I didn’t force her”

“You smug piece of shit-“ snarled Roland reeling his fist back and punching Aemond in the face, sending him flying towards the ground.

Aemond quickly rose from the ground and tackled Roland, both of them falling the floor with a heavy thud.

“You-fucking-cunt” breathed Roland as one of Aemond’s punched connected with his nose.

“If anyone is the cunt here, it’s you” wheezed Aemond as Roland managed to knee him in the stomach.

“AEMOND” shouted Reese as she ran towards him.

He didn’t seem to hear her, too lost to his rage as he repeatedly punched every bit of Roland he could reach.

Reese reached forward and pulled on Roland’s coat, suddenly he reared backwards, and she was propelled away from the fight.

At the sound of Reese hitting the floor, Aemond quickly came back to his senses, his eye widening at the sight of her laying haphazardly on her side.

Aemond levered himself off Roland and immediately went to Reese, crouching slowly beside her.

“Reese-are you ok?” asked Aemond nervously.

“I-I’m ok-AEMOND LOOK OUT” screamed Reese as Roland came up behind Aemond and tackled him into the road.

After shoving Roland away from him, Aemond hunched over trying to catch his breath, he’d hit his head on the concrete and was momentarily dazed, the blood dripping from the cut on his forehead.

“AEMOND” shrieked Reese.

Squinting his eyes, Aemond looked up and saw the car hurtling towards him.

Then all of a sudden, a pair of hands seized the back of his coat, and he was propelled out of the way.

“REESE”

Everything after that happened so fast.

Reese didn’t even hear the sound of the car honking or the screech of tyres, she didn’t even feel the impact of the car as it hit her.

She slid up the bonnet and crashed into the windshield before she slipped over the roof and over the back of the car, before landing heavily on the road in a heap.

“Someone call an ambulance”.

“Reese-can you hear me” urged Aemond.

“I-I tried to stop in time” said the driver panicking.

“CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE” yelled Aemond.

“I-Is she going to be ok?”

“Reese, my love” said Aemond.

“A-Aemond-hurts” muttered Reese.

“It’s ok, an ambulance is on its way-you’re going to be fine” urged Aemond.

“D-Do y-you love me?”

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I’m sorry for what I said-none of it was true. Please Reese, forgive me. I’m sorry-I’m so sorry” exclaimed Aemond as he reached out and took her hand.

She wanted to say more, to move-but she couldn’t. Her legs wouldn’t work, and she felt so cold all she could do was squeeze Aemond’s hand.

“Please-Reese hold on” begged Aemond a tear slipping down his cheek.

“L-Lo-ov-e y-you-“ rasped Reese.

“Don’t do that-don’t say goodbye. Don’t leave me” cried Aemond.

The birds, she could hear the birds, the light it was bright-so bright. Perhaps she could close her eyes just-

“Reese-please, just hold on” begged Aemond. The sounds of sirens echoing in the distance.

The funeral was a complete blur, he didn’t want to say goodbye. But he had no choice. She was gone.

It was a beautiful service, complete with flowers, poems and hymns.

Aemond stared at the picture of Reese and he felt his heart constrict painfully.

He didn’t want to hear from anyone, not his parents, not Aegon or Alys. They were remnants of a life that he no longer wanted.

Reese had shown him there was more, her love had opened his heart to a whole realm of possibilities, and he was determined to live. For her.

So, after the funeral he packed up all of his belongings and watched with mild curiosity as Aegon and Alys were being hauled out of their apartment bound in handcuffs and surrounded by police officers.

The drug trafficking and distribution charges that Aemond had reported them for should earn them both quite a lofty custodial sentence. Although it wouldn’t see them incarcerated forever, it would see them face the consequences of their actions.

Casting one more look at the place that never really felt like home, Aemond climbed into his car and drove away.

He owed it to Reese; she had given her life to save his and he was determined to make something of himself.

He wanted to make her proud.

As he clutched the steering wheel, the beaded bracelet she’d made him jingled on his wrist and he smiled, he had once scorned her gift but now when he looked at it, he remembered they day she had tied it to his wrist, and he smiled.

Reese taught him everything. About life, hope and the long journey ahead. He would always miss her.

But their love was like the wind. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it.

She would always be with him, a guiding light in the darkness.

The End.

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